Choppin’ Broccoli
If cooking consisted of nothing more than chopping things up with various types of finely sharpened cutlery, then I would be the king of cooking. Well, actually, that’s not entirely true. Actually, it’s far from true. Let’s just say it’s a title I would aspire to. A gourmet chopper. Is there a specific word for that? Is there one guy/gal in fancy kitchens whose only job it is to chop things up and prepare them for the people who actually do the cooking? If so, maybe I’ll tie a string around my finger to remind myself, “self, think about professional chopper as back-up career in case all else fails”.

If I couldn’t hack it in a kitchen (I hear they can get pretty rough), I’d probably be just as happy to work the summer State Fair circuit as one of those RONCO/infomercial guys. Those scythe surgeons and their little display booths – I’ve seen them dazzle and delight masses off mindless consumers who stand and watch until they are hypnotized into a purchase by those blade wielding technicians of capitalism. It’s really something.

I like vegetables best. Of all the hundreds of things one can chop, I really think the ripe onion can’t be beat for pure chopping satisfaction. It’s got just the right amount of inner tenderness and outer resistance to please even the dullest of your kitchen bayonets. It’s round shape offers the perfect novice a subtle challenge when trying to create a symmetry of slice. In the grand symphony of a meal, I try and find a consistent shape and proportion to use on each element. That way things will cook evenly and when presented will look top-notch.

The new house comes with, not one, but two half inch wood cutting boards that remain hidden underneath the kitchen counter. When called upon, they slide out nice and easy from their slot and present themselves – two blank canvas. Since there’s no chicken being cooked in this household, and we don’t require a separate board for meats, I have designated one board the Chopping Board and the other the Mincing/Dicing Board. And never the two shall meet. That is until they actually get cooked or tossed.

Damn. All this talk of chopping, has made me hungry. I think I’ll go slice up an apple.