Yesterday revolved around three themes. The first was my obsessive-compulsive e-mail conversation with this lovely man (who never, ever co-occupies the same time-space coordinates with the guy who, oddly, writes the blog appended to Mr. D’s site). It was in regards to some really neat material he wrote about the process of readying his new book, Swish: My Quest to Become the Gayest Person Ever, for publication. Unfortunately, not being publication-minded myself, I don’t think I gave him the kind of feedback he wanted. But I’m definitely far more excited to buy his book than I was before (which is saying something)! While doing personal essays, he really reminds me of a super-energetic David Sedaris, but far more engaged, witty and urbane. Where Sedaris kind of turns inward at every opportunity, Joel seems endlessly to pour effort outward. The way he uses language is very musical, with closely-considered sentences reminiscent of The Picture of Dorian Grey, but lacking the museum-piece, Tiffany-stained-glass quality of Wilde’s stately-pleasure-dome grammary. In essence, we’re talking vital beauty.
After work, I returned home, where Orpheus eagerly awaited my presence. I chose to do my culinary experimentation with pork loin chops, pancetta and sweet peppers in a prosecco sauce last night. I have one word for you… Success!!! Well, mostly. First off, I’m going to make damned sure that the prosecco I get next time is less dry. Secondly, LESS PANCETTA!!! It tasted like I’d buried the pork in salt for a good month before cooking it. (Yes, I’m given to hyperbole. Roll with it!) Next on the list are the shallots. They’ll be very finely minced next time so that they’ll just melt in the sauce. The peppers will be added later in cooking so that they’re still semi-crisp, and I’ll be using the LOWEST SODIUM chicken stock I can find. I think the neatest thing about the dish, which I initially considered disastrous, was that the broth stubbornly refused to reduce to the consistency of a sauce, even with cornstarch, and instead remained a fragrant soup-consistency. Turns out, it was very attractive pooling that way, and it was also F-ING DELICIOUS to sop up with bread.
The process was simple… I salted and peppered the pork, slapped a piece of pancetta on each face, fried for four minutes/side in grape seed oil, removed from heat, drained pan of most accumulated fat, then quickly sautéed my peppers and shallots. After this, I deglazed with a cup or so of prosecco, put in a cup of chicken broth, added 2 chopped grape tomatoes, a sprig of fresh rosemary, and three sprigs of thyme, put the pork back in, and placed in the oven for 10 min. at 350, covered. I then removed the pork and solid vegetable matter to cook down the stock, which took a little too long, leaving the pork a bit chilled when served. Overall, though, not bad. And the flavor was phenomenal. Both Terra Firma and Sister walked in half-way through the process of making the dish, so I offered them half-portions of the extra chop I cooked, and both of them were enthusiastic about the dish’s future, as was the always-appreciative O.
Finally, when we got downtown, had a little 30-Rock under our belts, and were nice and relaxed, the third obsessive activity took place. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. Mmmm. There’s nothing better than clearing out the mental cobwebs with a mind-blowing fuck. Too bad it got warm enough last night to disturb my sleep, otherwise I’d say today is the perfect Friday. Anyway, that’s it for now. Happy belated May Day, ya’ll! And, if you have a favorite recipe, please e-mail me. I’d love to try.
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