Anyone who knows both C and I will tell you that we simply cannot be more different from one another. C is quiet, reserved and is extremely measured in his manner and speech. Me, I'm just downright noisy. I talk a mile a minute and if you haven't already gathered from this blog, tact is not one of my virtues. When it comes to food, the same holds true. I don't like vegetable stems; C thinks they are fabulously crunchy. I adore egg yolks; C's more an egg white kind of guy. I love good food, fancy dishes and complicated desserts. All C needs is wantan mee or chicken rice and he's a happy camper. Yes, as C likes to say, he is The Naked Eater (you know, like how Jamie Oliver is The Naked Chef). Fuss-free, simple fare is all he really wants.
This might explain why I've never fulfilled my culinary potential the way my friend J has. Modern, intricate cuisine is lost on C. Hell, before he met me, he thought the word 'degustation' referred to something that happens when you eat bad fish. Once, at a Marcus Samuelsson dinner, he tossed a precious shaving of black truffle to the side of his plate and whispered why the chef would bother garnishing the dish with a shard of pencil shaving. Ok, that's just a really bad excuse. The immensely talented J is so consummate about her food and the serving of it, she makes me look like the pig farmer's daughter (ok, again I exaggerate. It's actually the vast amounts that I eat which make me look like the pig itself). But I digress.
There are days when I dream of making some fancy chocolate Pierre Herme-inspired confection. And in planning to do so, I talk C through what I think it's going to turn out like. The result of this conversation is often the same. After many words spent describing my intended confection, C would turn to me and say, "Can I just have a butter cake?" Most days, I harrumph and mutter something about pearls before swine. But last weekend, because he was darling enough to help me haul my brand new Kitchenaid home, I decided he could have the first cake to be mixed by my new prized contraption.
A simple Victoria Sandwich Cake it was. Made using a recipe for Yellow Layer Cake from Baking Illustrated and slathered with a goopy layer of raspberry jam in between. I tried to embellish it even further by serving it with a pillow of whipped cream, but The Naked Eater declined the slice, saying he just wanted the cake neat.
On another note, I wanted to say thanks to Chubby Hubby for the kind and generous mention he gave me in his fabulous and very widely read blog. As a testament to just how widely read his blog is, I've since gotten emails from friends whom I didn't even realise perused the blogosphere. I've also met some wonderful new blogging friends who dropped by based on CH's recommendations. Cheers, CH and thanks, everyone, for stopping by!
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