The begining

I always thought I could cook.
I was reminded before this request that it wasn't really the case. The family and I went back to spend a weekend in San Francisco. A significant chunk of the mothers day weekend with a former colleague. We are still significantly appreciative of having the opportunity too. Anyways. While preparing dinner my friend lamented not knowing that so many foodies were on our team all those years ago. As another of our colleagues has also come out of the larder as well.

When I think about it now, I realise that while I was working with these people was around the time I was just beginning on this culinary path.

There were two events that hammered home that the ability to make pikelets didn't equate to matching my Mother's skills in the kitchen.

The first was dinner one night with my most excellent friend who I'll call #5. We were working together and sharing an apartment (with my dear friend, wittier designation pending) in the bay area. She'd eaten. We hadn't. So we resolved to have mince for dinner. So that is what we had. mince. Beef mince, probably not even lean mince since fat didn't matter as much in those days, fried and put on a plate. No seasonings, no vegetables, nothing. It was edible, but pretty ordinary.

The second was when my girlfriend (now wife) came to visit. I decided to show off my culinary capability by attempting to reproduce some open sandwiches my Mother had made in the last weeks before I left for the bay area. Basically thick bread, toasted, rubbed down with garlic. Add some tomato, salami, top with cheese then back under the grill. G was very polite. But they were NOT the sandwiches my mother made.