starters. and sides. part 2.

I want to be a foodie when I grow up.

Tartare. Simple.

There is something terribly simple about regular good quality tasty tartare. There is something terribly complicated about the recipe I am about to expound upon.

Any monkey can make a tartare. Let's examine the process: Finely chop raw meat or fish, add any array of seasonings, spices, and perhaps a bit of oil. There are a thousand different varieties of steak, tuna, salmon tartares, and although there are plenty of good and bad, let's not dwell on that too much here.

What I want to spend some time on here is something along the lines of salmon (and tuna) tartare served in cornets with creme fraiche. The degree of simplicity of the filling of these tiny little savory cones is obvious... the cornets themselves demand quite a bit of your attention. Let's be honest. This is not for the casual evening at home. If you are serving something that requires it own special tray for proper appearance, chances are you need a special occasion.

I would never have been inspired to try this if it hadn't been for my travels. I would never have tried this if it weren't for the perfect gift of The French Laundry cookbook I received for Christmas. I would never have been able to accomplish this if it weren't for my resourceful friend and her catering-company-owning boyfriend who had just the right tray and cone-shaped cups. And I would like to thank the academy... oh, ahem.

There are entire websites devoted to the real-life applications of Thomas Keller's recipes. There is no reason to repeat the recipe here.

All I really want to say is that it is all worth it. The tips of my fingers will never be the same after this recipe, and neither will my tastebuds. The pure piece-by-piece tasting of this little perfect cone is just worth every bit of the swearing and sweating and folding the batter in front of the open oven door. This recipe reminds you of what Thomas Keller has built his restaurants upon, all that is so so refined, while still so comfortable.

There is something really indulgent about this recipe. This is not comfort food. This is fancy food. It doesn't make you feel the same as the afternoon spent chopping and mincing and the satisfying stew that results from your efforts. Instead, you feel that maybe... in spite of yourself... in spite of your insufficient experience, and low-brow cookware, you could be a foodie too.

PS - I have still not joined a gym.

PPS - "Tartare my boy!" (That was for you Dad.)

starters. and sides. part 1.

Can someone turn back the clock? I am still in the rough draft stage of my new year's resolutions.

To do list:

- Be on time for work
- Don't be a gossip
- Use more fresh ingredients
- Join a gym and use it
- Go on or schedule more "date nights"
- Recycle more
- Organize and streamline my house and my routine
- Save more $
- Pay more attention to my dog
- Blog more


Uh oh. So far I have only accumulated a HUGE pile of recycling in my garage that I fully intend to take to the drop-off site.

The truth is that I don't believe in all that anyway. Resolutions are just a chance for you to feel extra guilty about falling into your old bad habits. I hate January. January is just the month when everyone wants to catch up and be good to make themselves feel better. Everyone is on their high horse. Everyone is on their blackberry. Everyone wants something from you... a project, a check in the box, a just-checking-in-on-that... Everybodys talking at me... I can't here a word they're saying...

I hate January. The truth is, that January is not a feel good month. The sky grows dark early every evening. Extra pounds and soft muscles from the holidays and beyond cling to your body the same as always. The realization of the generosity you may have not been able to afford during Christmas greets you in the form of your bank statement. Everyone already feels guilty with the added concern of the ever-so-slowly slipping list of new resolutions. Admit failure, dammit.

I don't really believe in the good luck properties of black-eyed peas. (Although that doesn't mean I don't eat them every new year's day.) I'd like to believe that I have a chance to improve on myself every day. And I do, really.

Perhaps I should just stop complaining and hit the damn "publish" button more to fulfill the last action item on my list. But let's start from the beginning. There will be a few stops and starts here, since it has been a while. There will be room for all of it... but let's take a break in between. You can't eat all this at once anyway.

I never liked barbecue as a child. I never liked the way that people smothered it in sauce. I never liked the way that everything on the plate had to touch. I never liked the unfamiliar elements of these composed potato salads and cole slaw. I never liked it when people spelled it like "BBQ". That is not a word, by the way - that is a collection of consonants.

I never really appreciated barbecue as a child, and perhaps I never had the right kind. There is a barbecue awakening going on in Texas as of late. The Texas Monthly list of top barbecue joints in our great state was published in June of 2008. I know lots of devotees who have tried a many places on the list. I know that there are a lot of deserving establishments out there... but I also know that the judges never visited Hard Eight. I know that it is technically a chain, with shops open in Brady and Stephenville too, but the Coppell addition is well worth a visit. Don't let the office park vibe surrounding it fool you. The smell of the pit will beckon you in from the parking lot.

As any good barbecue place should, this one revolves around the meat. The format is casual, so when you get your turn, you pick out your favorites directly from the pit and pay for it by the weight. Some measurements are predetermined. You cannot get half of a rib-eye or a pork chop, for example, and really, why would you want to? At this point, I have had a bite of all the selections and by far, the best item on the smoker is the ribs. The thready texture of their well-cooked and smokey rib meat is delightfully seasoned and juicy. Be ready to get your hands dirty. The other highlights worth mentioning: A perfectly cooked and sliced at your request sirloin, a pork chop to be reckoned with, chopped beef to contend with the rest of them, and really moist and juicy chicken.

Don't forget the sides. The grilled corn off the grill is warm and comforting, but skip the butter bath when it is offered. Try the cornbread salad just to see if you like it - Hard Eight claims that it could be a complete meal in itself. The potato salad is a step ahead the familiar yellow-twinged kind that you found at every family picnic, is it fennel seed or mustard? You tell me. If you are a fan of vinegar slaw, which I am, skip their cole slaw. I do not enjoy a creamy slaw without any acid.

Why is it that barbecue demands acid on the palate? There is nothing like that taste. I fulfill this need with the crispy cookiecutter bulk bought pickles - the completely man-made processed product that I never feel guilty about indulging in.

The perfect ending to this endeavor is the velvety texture and fresh taste of the banana pudding. All the other desserts pale in comparison. Bon appetit!