Chico Buller
Washing Up
My buddy Neko didn't seem to be interested in anything lately. Now granted, I'm not much of a cook, but I seldom have to refrigerate left-overs. Something was wrong.
Then it dawned on me that I was preparing too many American dishes and tasty treats. Perhaps the problem was cultural.
So I whipped out the ol' nakiri and prepared an amuse-bouche. A light garnish of sun ripened deftly sliced strawberries on a soft bed of grains, and a lightly poached egg.
Not bad for the for the old biker, eh? Half of you guys didn't even think I could spell it, let alone know what it is. (They let me into fancy-schmancy restaurants to sharpen. Granted, it's the service entrance...)
It worked like a charm. Once his palate was stimulated and the meal progressed I saw renewed interest, a bright smile and an empty dish.
I even got a tip. He licked my hand.
Neko is my wife's bichon frise.
Then it dawned on me that I was preparing too many American dishes and tasty treats. Perhaps the problem was cultural.
So I whipped out the ol' nakiri and prepared an amuse-bouche. A light garnish of sun ripened deftly sliced strawberries on a soft bed of grains, and a lightly poached egg.
Not bad for the for the old biker, eh? Half of you guys didn't even think I could spell it, let alone know what it is. (They let me into fancy-schmancy restaurants to sharpen. Granted, it's the service entrance...)
It worked like a charm. Once his palate was stimulated and the meal progressed I saw renewed interest, a bright smile and an empty dish.
I even got a tip. He licked my hand.
Neko is my wife's bichon frise.