lend me your ears.

I've recently become a strong believer of responsible eating and knowing where the food we eat comes from. I've said it for a while now but I believe a high majority of people are disconnected from their meat. They only see meat as coming in neatly plastic wrapped packages; they miss the part where that cut of meat came from a once living and breathing animal.

People often have trouble consuming cuts of meats when they realize they've come from something alive. The minute you start to eat something like liver, hearts, ears, or tongue you become to connected to that food and that animal. You realize that it was alive because you're aware that your body has those organs or features too.

This weekend I was out grocery shopping at a local Chinese supermarket. In their meat section they have some cuts that one would rarely, or never, find in the average grocery store. As I took my time browsing around I came across pig's ears. I was pretty fascinated with them and decided that this long weekend may be a good opportunity to try my hand at making them for the first time.

I started with this:

And ended up with this:

The entire process of cooking was pretty tedious. Two hours of slow poaching followed by a night of chilling, followed by slicing, and then finally a marinade. The pig's ears are served chilled and deliver a wonderful crunch from the cartilage and a satisfying chew from the skin and fat. The ears themselves don't have much flavor but deliver an wholly enjoyable mouthfeel.

All the flavors are very Asian in origin and distant from what I normally used doing. However, I'm learning and I'm treating this as part of Garde Manger. I've only just started to branch into that area of cooking and I now finding myself wanting to learn more.

I posted my adventure of cooking Pig's Ears on a cooking related community at LiveJournal. I received many favorable comments to what I had done. These are just some of the 150+ comments to what I had done.

"I love your entries because it's so clear that you really, really love food."

"If I didn't know what they were, I'd try them in a heartbeat, they look so good. If I did know what they were, I'd still try them because they look so good, though it might take me a minute longer."

"I totally expected this to be something gross and disgusting and I'm surprised that I'm interesting in trying this. You obviously did a good job in tempting me!"

It's comments like these that make me feel good about what I'm doing and where I'm going with food. I'm pushing myself, going in new directions, exploring new horizons, and learning new things. I'm growing as a cook and that's the most important thing for me. Also, by inspiring others and opening people's minds I feel as if I'm contributing to my craft, which is also important as I am connected to something larger than just what I am doing alone.

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the boiling point.

This past week, at work, I was introduced to a Chef of a private golf and country club somewhere near Hamilton, Ontario. I introduced myself, told him who I was and what I had planned to do. He looked me dead in the eye and asked me one question, "Why?" There were no words of encouragement, no smiles, and no jokes. He wanted to put me on the spot and know why. I knew the answer inside myself but my reply wasn't nearly as glamorous as I imagined it to be. I said it was what I wanted to do since I was 12 years old and it's something I can't really explain, it's what I love. This is not the answer I should have given.

So what's the reason to my madness? To this obsession with all things food. The simplest answer to this question, with the least amount of words, is that this is pure unadulterated passion. I love cooking, I love reading about food, learning about new foods, going to market, thinking of new flavours, and just talking about all things food. This is a passion I can't ignore.

"Why does a painter paint?" or "Why does a writer write?" or "Why does a carpenter build?" I strongly believe that the answer to these questions and a question of a similar nature applied to other professions should all be the same. Love and passion, having some of those things for what you want to do in life is so important.

The goals in my life have changed since I was 12 but the same passion is there. When I was younger I wanted nothing but to become a superstar chef. I wanted cookbooks, celebrities, TV shows, and more; I wanted to be famous. Now, I just want make good food, scratch that, I want to create amazing, incredible, life changing food. I want do the raw ingredients justice, and have my food appreciated by those who truly care. The one person who will relish every morsel and finds love in every bite is more important and fulfilling than what any TV show, book signing, or celebrity diner can offer.

My current goals are simpler and humbler. But I know that they wont be any easier to attain.

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the cutting edge.

The essential tool of any serious cook is a serious knife. The knife is the one tool that every cook must use if they plan to make food, without the usage of a knife one is most likely not cooking but only reheating food. For the cook, a knife is used so much that it often becomes an extension of their hand and arm. With time, every movement of the blade should becomes faster and more accurate. It is crucial to learn, obtain, and practice good knife skills in order to be proficient in the craft of cooking.

That being said, I love my knives and using them. I've invested a lot of money into my knives but always feel the need to buy just one more. I've owned my current set of knives for just over two years and have formed a relationship with them.

I've been chopping vegetables and mincing garlic since I was old enough to safely handle a knife and help in the kitchen. It's safe to say that I have spent a lot of time honing my knife skills but I know that I can always be better. I've sliced and diced my way through pounds of produce, poultry, and meat but I still know there's kilos more to go through.

I'm fanatical about maintaining the edge of my blades. When they're dull I relish the few minutes I spend sharpening them, I love using a sharpening stone. Taking long draws of the knife across the stone's wet surface and hearing the smooth noise of steel on stone with every pass of the blade. There's a precise angle, touch, and movement required to form a good edge. Sharpening takes skill and focus, I find that there's something very comforting and zen-like in the entire process of sharpening.

In fact, every movement of the knife should be focused and precise. Whether it be mincing a clove of garlic, honing the blade along a steel, making a chiffonade of herbs, brunoising shallots, or boning a chicken. I love using a knife, my knife. On occasion it's silver finish has been stained with my blood, and that makes me feel as if this simple tool has become even more of a part of me and who I am. Each time I pick up my chef knife there is a sense of familiarity and comfort, a feeling like I've come home.

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