I just looked at Dana, and said, “tell me where to start.” She was playing Candy Crush at the time, so she didn’t say anything. I said, “it could even be a noun.” She turned to me and said, “food.”
Let’s start with the Chef Game. What’s your last meal on earth?
(enter stream of conscience)
chicken biryani
rogan josh
peshwari naan with peanut butter
This Indian restaurant in Sugar Land used to have peshwari naan, which they took to mean fruit and nut. I didn’t have any white bread one day, so I used the naan for a peanut butter foldover. It was one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth. The only thing that would have made it better was Sriracha and roasted garlic to fuse Indian and Thai. Top it with cilantro and call it a “naaco” or “naan taco.” It will hit your umami hard core.
naan tacos. The mere thought is giving me goosebumps. I should make them for supper if we can find peshwari naan at Trader Joe’s. I wonder if there’s a way Dana will go to the store so I don’t have to. She’s sitting right next to me as I type this. If she looks over here, she will totally punch my proverbial nuts. However, for now, we’re safe. She’s playing Candy Crush, remember? If I was bleeding and she was about to mix a dotted candy with a striped candy, it would take her a few seconds to help me.
But the best thing about our relationship is that I give Dana so much crap and she takes it. Then she throws it back in my face with something even more funny and more creative. I’ve always known she was smarter than me. Dana would rather speak than type, so that’s one of the reasons I’m doing the podcast. I want her to participate in this web site to the extent that she feels comfortable, because I don’t want to feel alone as the web site gets bigger. I want to be able to explain to Dana what I do with the majority of my time and why it’s important. Because the web site is taking off so fast, I want her to see what’s possible.
Speaking of which, we’ve gotten our first sponsor. Kumi is easily the most talented chef I’ve ever met. The mis en place is precise. The plating is beautiful. Every bite, to me, feels like home. Living in Houston, I had plenty of opportunity to enjoy Indian food, and I love it. If I could afford a personal chef, Kumi would fit Dana and me perfectly. I would never tie her down to a genre, but she does what she loves. She’s fanatical about her standards and the results are beyond the imagination. If food is art, Ruchikala is the Louvre. If you think that I’m raving about her because she’s my sponsor, first of all, she’s paying me in trade, so no actual money is changing hands for endorsement. Second, just take a look at her pictures. She has the ability to make you cry with joy at the sight of fresh vegetables. I went to a party at her house and I can think of three specific times at which I almost fainted, all of them having to do with tasting something she was actively cooking. Since it was a party, all of the women in her family were quietly attending to her. Kumi is so young, and yet, she commands the kitchen like a matriarch, with her family just accepting that in the kitchen, she’s the boss. She would probably disagree with me, but Kumi has a rare trait in a chef. She believes in soft power. I take that to mean she assumes power without even knowing she has it, because everyone has slipped into their own roles around her. She never even has to raise her voice.
The way I think of Kumi is similar to what I felt for Dana when we worked together at Biddy McGraw’s. In the kitchen, I absolutely knew that she was the boss, and I remained committed to that idea the entire time we worked there. I allowed her to tell me I was right, instead of assuming that I was and thinking she was nuts if she corrected me. I have the same respect for the way Kumi works, and you will, too. Please taste her food. You will never forget the first time you did.
Stories That Are All True 