After a full week of Chinese New Year feasting, I cannot believe that the first thought that comes to mind for today’s prompt is more food.
There is a dish we must have whenever we go to our “neighbourhood” osteria. Porchetta is a rolled up pork roast, stuffed with yummy herbs (fennel and rosemary, i think) and liver (I guess?), and is encrusted in its fattiest skin (my favourite part!)! I love biting into that crispy, crunchy skin oozing with fats.
For Christmas, we sat at the bar counter, smack right in front of a whole row of porchettas! I love it when I hear the Chef shout “Porchetta”, and the dude in front of us will cut a slice, and you can hear the crackling of the skin. What a brilliant seat, I got to enjoy the sensation of dozens of servings of porchettas without adding any extra calories other than my own.
The theatrics of an Italiano kitchen is very tantalising. The Chef hollers the order in a very crisp, deep voice, and the kitchen people get moving like clockwork – one passing something to another. It is addictive watching their precise movements – the quick opening and closing of the fridge door to retrieve a thin sheet of prepacked slices of beef, the light placement and removal of that ring tin that holds the huge blob of mozarella cheese, and the dainty sprinkling of colourful veg on the huge plate of salad. Watching them drizzle olive oil, or whatever other liquids, on the food is moments after moments of artistic performance. People did not seem to order much pasta that evening, so there were not many opportunities to watch the head Chef toss and serve the noodles in one clean twist. All in all, it is really very meditative and therapeutic.
That was the evening I realised that I love watching food being prepared much more than actually eating them. I love tasting food, but finishing a whole plate is a different thing altogether. My marginal utility is not very high.