The Husband and I had ourselves a nice little time visiting The Kitchen Shoppe last night for a cooking demonstration. We went with some dear friends and it was lovely. This is one of those places like Wegman's that I have always wanted to go to, but never had the time to do it sans children.
I really enjoy cooking and taking me there with my credit cards was a risk. They have every obscure ingredient under the sun....looking for Tanzanian pork belly dust? I'll bet they have it! I sat there day dreaming about what MY kitchen would look like with all those state of the art appliances and gadgets. I oooohed and aaaahed when the stove top smoker was brought out for the tenderloin and don't even get me started on the ceramic knives. Sweet mercy.
You know how little boys want to grow up and be fireman and race car drivers and little girls want to be ballerinas? Well, I wanted to be a chef (and, a waitress....a dream I did eventually fulfill. unfortunately). Then, I grew up and saw how much culinary school costs and that the hours are insane. And, even if I did it for fun, it is an expensive industry to stock up with the right tools. I always thought I was rather top of the line with all my Pampered Chef stoneware and gadgets, but last night I was seriously coveting our chef's tools. One potato scrubber, that's all, I promised myself. And, maybe some Glace de Poulet Gold because I'll use those things...they are practical. Pretty soon I was checking out the knives (they were glorious, I tell you, simply glorious) and I decided to just stop. Thankfully, the reality check hit me before I made it up to the register.
I can still prepare good food for my family using the equipment I already have and food from a normal grocery store. However, I am now adding culinary school to my dream of becoming a health inspector and talk show host. I am thinking there is an audience out there just waiting for me to uniquely combine those 3 elements? A reality cooking / health inspection show with celebrities who love Jesus?
Please hold the autographs. I have to go sprinkle some Tanzanian pork belly dust on my meatloaf. Ciao.