It’s great. It’s amazing. I love what I’m doing. For the first time, I actually want to go to school, to study, to work hard, to show up to class everyday on time and prepared. It’s something that makes me feel like I’ve finally made the right decision, that the path I’m now headed on is the right one.

Which is not to say it hasn’t been hard, or even frustrating at times. Because it has been. When you cook at home, you don’t think about a lot of things that you are required to think about once you’re in a classroom being told how to actually do it. Simple little things, like what a dice is, what a mince is, realizing that for your whole life, you’ve never actually cut anything in a julienne, and that you’ve never had a fucking clue what those words actually meant.

It’s eye opening, and in some ways scary. I’ve thought of myself as a good cook for years, but it’s hard to feel that way once you try to turn a potato into 1/4 inch cubes. And that’s what a lot of school has been thus far, knife skills. What each cut is called, how each cut is done, and what the finished product should look like. It’s about precision, speed and wasting as little product as possible. As somebody who’s never cared tremendously about the technical aspects of cooking, it’s been hard. In fact, I’ve just finally started to get to a point where I’m pleased with my knife work, not happy with it, but pleased. The last three weeks have left me coming home on a high from my love of cooking and food, but in a distinctly different place when it comes to my feelings on my performance. I went in for tutoring on Thursday, and in 2 1/2 hours made a lot of progress, enough so that I’m feeling confident about my ability to score well on my next knife skills test.

If cooking well were merely about passion, I know several people who would be three start Michelin chefs, running successful restaurants, with their own TV shows and branded merchandise, and popping up to judge challenges on Top Chef. But it’s not. Passion, I’ve discovered, is what makes it possible to get through what it takes to make one a great cook. If you’re not passionate about cooking, you won’t care enough to get through the classes, to work on improving your skills, even the most basic ones. If you don’t have the passion, it’s not worth it. And if you can’t find it within yourself to make it worth it, you’ll never succeed. Not in the higher levels of the culinary field. Don’t mistake this as a belief that professional schooling is necessary, one look at Thomas Keller is proof that it isn’t, but again, it was his passion that drove him, and while he didn’t learn in a classroom, he made much of his life about learning. Reading The Soul of a Chef, author Michael Ruhlman recounts Thomas Keller’s fascination with making Hollandaise sauce, his aspiration to make each batch better than the last, the passion is evident. The time Keller spent cooking the staff meal at the Dunes Club, in upstate New York, and Paris, was about learning, if not in the classroom, then on the job, and from the best teachers available.

And I love it. As frustrating as the last three weeks has been at times, it turned the corner Thursday. The tutoring put my knife skills on the right track, and class ended up satisfying my soul. If it sounds over dramatic, it might be, but the fact of the matter is, I walked out of that classroom feeling better than I have felt in a long time. After the first hour of Serv Safe, we set about the tasks for the night, making mayonnaise and Hollandaise sauce by hand. Both are emulsions, two ingredients that do not mix together, that you are able to, with a little manipulation, mix together. In both cases egg yolks and fat are mixed together to create something entirely new.

The first up was mayonnaise, and I can definitely say that it was the more physically demanding of the two. Starting with the three yolks, I had to whip in 20 oz of oil, starting first by adding very, very slowly, a drop or two at a time that needs to be fully incorporated before adding more. Using a 2 oz ladle to slowly add the oil, it took me at least five minutes to empty the first ladle into the yolks. Now, we often use five minutes as a quick measure of time, very quick, but it’s deceptive, five minutes is a lot longer than we seem to think it is. And 2 oz is nothing. It’s 1/6th of a can of soda. Think about how quickly you normally drink a can of soda, it probably takes you five minutes right?

It took me a long time to make the mayo. And since it’s supposed to be thick, you can’t really add much vinegar or lemon juice to thin it out and make it easier to whip, otherwise, you’re not gonna end up with mayonnaise. And you’re constantly whipping. Your hand cramps up, it seems like it’s going to take forever to make some mayonnaise, which is ridiculous when you can go down to the grocery store and buy a jar for a couple bucks, it doesn’t seem like it’s worth the effort. Except it is. Real mayo is unlike any mayo you’ve ever tasted before, it’s richer, creamier, less oily, and it tastes better, brighter. It’s worth the effort.

I made it through mayonnaise pretty easily, but it’s the easier of the two. You don’t need to keep it warm, in fact cold is what you want, it’s harder to break the emulsion than it is in Hollandaise. But it takes time, a lot of it as you’re adding twice as much fat to the mayo than you’re adding to the Hollandaise.

Hollandaise is harder. It’s similar to mayo, but you use butter instead of oil, and you have to worry about the sauce being exposed to the right amount of heat. It’s a bit of a high wire act, but again, it’s worth it. The nice thing about the Hollandaise is that it’s supposed to be thinner, so if the emulsion gets a bit thick and hard to whip, you just add a little acid, and thin it out. Sounds easy enough, but remember you can’t add too much acid, or let the sauce get too cold, or you’re in serious danger of it breaking.

Except my sauce didn’t break.

And it was at this point that a smile spread across my face, probably the first time I’d smiled in regards to my performance. Seeing the way it all came together, it was a revelatory experience. And then tasting it…it was amazing. It was the first night I felt like I had done well in class, and I had done it on something I’ve never made before. Never even attempted to make. But I made them. And I did it well, and they tasted good.

It crystallized in that moment, when I tasted the sauce for the last time, when the flavors were balanced, and I was please with the sauce. This, cooking, is what I am meant to do. It gave me hope that I’ll be able to make it through, and not just scrape by, but do well. It was a moment that changed me, and it’s something I’ll never forget.

And I know I’ve been a fuck up lately, and I know that you had other things you wanted to do, and I know that I’m 25 years old, and I know that we’re not that close, but still, it would have been nice for you to make it appear as though you wanted to do something before you left.

I thought I had gotten to a point long ago where you couldn’t hurt me, where our separation, whether temporary or permanent, whether spatial or temporal, wouldn’t hurt me. And for the most part it doesn’t. Really 99% of the time, it doesn’t phase me or bother me.

The fact that it doesn’t bother me bothers me, but I figure at this point, there’s not much that can be done about that. Neither of us seem to care terribly deeply about rectifying our emotional rift, and that’s fine. But the fact that you didn’t even bother to attempt to get together after your brief visit Monday morning hurt.

Maybe I took for granted, the idea that you would want to see me, and figured I didn’t have to make the effort. I know I didn’t think that it would bother me to not see you again, and maybe it wouldn’t have, but the fact that you didn’t attempt, that hurt. And now, as the rift between us grows deeper, and the sun sets three hours earlier on you, so it seems to set on our relationship, and the hope of better days.

You left. You always did, and granted you had a reason to do so, but don’t you understand how profoundly that impacted our relationship, how much that factored into everything, the fights, the distance, all of it?

And now you’ve gone again.

Only this time, I don’t know when you’ll be returning, the only thing I know is that when you do return, it won’t be with a Ninja Turtle.

Best Picture- A Serious Man

Best Director-Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds

Best Actor-Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart

Best Actress-Carey Mulligan, An Education

Best Supporting Actor-Woody Harrelson, The Messenger

Best Supporting Actress-Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air

Best Original Screenplay-A Serious Man

Best Adapted Screenplay-Up in the Air

So that’s it for the big categories, I’d love to see it turn out this way, but the Hurt Locker/Avatar train seems to be too powerful to stop. Oh well, I suppose we’ll see in a couple hours.

Customer: I shouldn’t have to come in here and hear advertisements in Spanish, this is Amercia.

I was literally speechless for a moment. To those of you who actually know me, that should come as a surprise. The next thing that I could expel from my mouth is the following.

Me: I’m sorry about that sir. Have a good day.

I can’t believe that actually happened. It was like that Dave Chappelle bit from Killin’ Them Softly. It was so racist I wasn’t even offended, I was just stunned, like I was watching a movie or something.

Super Fly, 1972 Directed by Gordon Parks Jr.

Yesterday’s movie Shaft has less in common with typical Blaxploitation films than today’s selection, Super Fly. Following the adventures of a drug dealer named Priest (Ron O’Neal) as he goes for one last big score before he leaves the game entirely (it’s always one last big score isn’t it?), all the while an excellent soundtrack comprised primarily of Curtis Mayfield tunes blasts along.

If it weren’t so serious, Super Fly would almost seem like parody. The characters are outrageously dressed, Priest is a karate student, rolls his pimp mobile through the streets of New York as soul music plays, women are practically begging for Priest to sleep with them, and though the main character is a violent drug dealer, the bad guys are of course the white cops a.k.a. The Man. All that said, Super Fly is a fairly engaging film, thanks to the direction of Gordon Parks Jr. (his father directed Shaft) and the music of Curtis Mayfield. Parks does a very nice job, especially during some of the films montages, it’s very well directed, though somewhat experimental. The soundtrack is really where it’s at though. Super Fly is one of the only films to be outgrossed by its soundtrack, and for good reason. The music is amazing, Mayfield’s soul concept album plays throughout the film, and sets the mood and tone for the whole film. Though entertaining at times, I’d recommend skipping the movie and getting your hands on a copy of the soundtrack immediately.

Upcoming

Blaxploitation Week (February 22nd-28th)

February 25th: The Mack

February 26th: Foxy Brown

February 27th: Dolemite

February 28th: Black Dynamite

March 1st: Throne of Blood

March 2nd: Cop Land

March 3rd: La Femme Nikita

Shaft, 1971 Directed by Gordon Parks

Perhaps best known for it’s Academy Award winning theme song, 1971′s Shaft was more of a crossover hit than yesterday’s film Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassssss Song, and also a much better film. When private detective John Shaft (Richard Roundtree) is ambushed at his office by two hired goons, he throws one out the window and is taken in by police. Though he maintains that the man fell, the police don’t fully believe him, he is allowed to return to the streets for 48 hours. Shaft quickly hunts down Bumpy Jonas (Moses Gunn), a gangster who controls Harlem and who sent the goons to see Shaft. Bumpy informs Shaft that his daughter has been kidnapped and hires Shaft to track her down. Initially suspecting a Black Panther-like organization, Shaft quickly realizes that they didn’t kidnap the girl, and instead focuses his attention on the Italian Mafia.

Shaft is a good movie, and has little in common with Sweetback other than the fact that both protagonists are apparently irresistible to women, though to be fair, the theme song warns that Shaft is a “sex machine to all the chicks.” Richard Roundtree is really great as the titular “black private dick” it’s no wonder that John Shaft has left a large cinematic legacy in his wake. He’s a cool dude, and Roundtree plays the part well. The mystery at the heart of the film is well done, though not terribly indecipherable, but it’s ok, as the movie is still highly entertaining, and unlike Sweetback it actually holds up. Shaft is a legitimately good movie, not just a cultural artifact or curio. One can’t finish their review without talking about Isaac Hayes’ legendary score, which is excellent, from the first “wah-wah” of the guitar in the opening theme, to the end credits, the music in Shaft is excellent, and though certainly dated, it doesn’t feel like a stereotype. Shaft is a good movie, and one I enjoyed a whole hell of a lot, here’s hoping the rest of the films this week continue to be as good as Shaft.

Can you dig it?

Upcoming

Blaxploitation Week (February 22nd-28th)

February 24th: Super Fly

February 25th: The Mack

February 26th: Foxy Brown

February 27th: Dolemite

February 28th: Black Dynamite

March 1st: Throne of Blood

March 2nd: Cop Land

Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassssss Song, 1971 Directed by Melvin Van Peebles

Blaxploitation Week kicks off with the granddaddy of Blaxploitation films, Melvin Van Peebles’ 1971 film Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassssss Song. Primarily self financed, Sweetback tells the story of Sweet Sweetback, who as a young man was taken in by prostitutes and given the name Sweet Sweetback because of his prowess as a lover. One night, Sweetback is taken in by the cops who just need to bring a guy in for murder so they can make a good show to their superiors, Sweetback agrees knowing he will be released shortly. On their way to the police station, the cops pick up a Black Panther, and proceed to beat him. Sweetback grows angry bearing witness to the event, and beats the officers into unconsciousness with his handcuffs. Sweetback goes on the lam, receiving help along the way from those sympathetic to the cause.

Maybe it’s because I’m white and grew up in the suburbs, or maybe it’s because the movie doesn’t really have a whole lot to say, but as far as I can tell, Sweetback is really about one baadassssss black guy with a magical dick. Every woman in the film fucks him. Seriously, I never knew that all one had to do to escape an encounter with the Hells Angels was to fuck the hot female leader of the gang. Also, I never knew the Hells Angels had a hot female leader.Sweetback is certainly an artifact of the time, from the crazy formal experimentation, to the music, the acting and story the film doesn’t really play as well or as powerfully as it once must have. Again, I’ll admit that part of this could be due to my race and age. The one thing you can certainly say for Sweetback is that it’s a unique film, I truly don’t think I’ve seen anything like it before.

And thus, Blaxploitation Week rolls out, I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s film, Shaft if only for the score.

Upcoming

Blaxploitation Week (February 22nd-28th)

February 23rd: Shaft

February 24th: Super Fly

February 25th: The Mack

February 26th: Foxy Brown

February 27th: Dolemite

February 28th: Black Dynamite

March 1st: Throne of Blood

Fletch, 1985 Directed by Michael Ritchie

Given his great work in Community, one of the best new shows on TV, I though it was finally time to catch up with Fletch, Chevy Chase’s 1985 film, often cited as his best work. Now, the great thing about comedies, as I mentioned in my review of Duck Soup is that you only need to answer a simple question, did it make you laugh? And Fletch did indeed make me laugh.

Chase plays Irwin Fletcher, a reporter working on a story about drug addicts, when he is picked up by Alan Stanwyk (Tim Matheson). Stanwyk informs him that he has recently been diagnosed with cancer and asks Fletch to kill him, sensing something is not right with the proposition, Fletch begins to investigate Stanwyk. The mystery is decent, but like The Big Lebowski, the mystery is secondary to the laughs. While Fletch is always moving towards the answer, a lot of time is spent on Chase’s deadpan one-liners. And if you like Chevy Chase, you’ll love this movie. His non-sensical one-liners are hilarious, and endlessly quotable. The rest of the cast performs well, but this is really a one man show, which is fine because Chase is in top form. A very fun and funny film, Fletch is one I definitely recommend.

Upcoming

Blaxploitation Week (February 22nd-28th)

February 22nd: Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassssss Song

February 23rd: Shaft

February 24th: Super Fly

February 25th: The Mack

February 26th: Foxy Brown

February 27th: Dolemite

February 28th: Black Dynamite

You are a smug, self important douche bag with a terrible haircut. Also, your clothing, seriously, what the fuck is up with that shit? I know you went to FIDM, but come on. As of late, your look seems to be emulating Michael Jackson in his pseudo-military clothing days, and that’s not a good look. If one were to emulate Michael Jackson’s look, one should have done so in the eighties, and if one is to do so today, one should emulate his look from when he was black, not when he was white. I’m sure I’ll see you next week with a wide brimmed hat and a surgical mask on, and you’ll look like just as much of a jackass as you do now. Though it would cover your haircut, and that’s a big plus.

Look, I was cool with you years ago, in years past, I was wondering where the love was, and was looking to get retarded as well, but in recent years, (starting with “Pump It,” and cementing itself with “My Humps”) your music has been terrible. And this wouldn’t be so bad, if i weren’t for the fact that the crap you turn out is so inescapable. I can’t even go take a shit at Best Buy while shopping for DVDs without hearing some of the horseshit you call music pumping crap into my ears, while crap is exiting my bowels.

Now, I’m certainly not going to say you were the least deserving person to be a part of the new “We Are The World,” but the rap you contributed is downright ridiculous, and makes Lil’ Wayne’s usurping of Bob Dylan’s solo seem good in comparison. I can appreciate that you called Perez Hilton out, and please, give my thanks to Polo for punching him, but really, you have got to stop. Seriously. For the sake of humanity, just shut the fuck up.

Sincerely,

Barton Roberts

Shutter Island, 2010 Directed by Martin Scorsese

Yay! A new movie this week. Though I was really looking forward to watching Throne of Blood, I was really excited to go check out Shutter Island, a movie I’ve been waiting on for quite a while. Originally supposed to be released last fall, Shutter Island was pushed back to February of this year. Now, usually when a movie is pushed back, especially a movie that was thought of as an Oscar contender, it’s a sign of a bad movie (one memorable instant was All the King’s Men, which was pushed from fall of 2005 to fall of 2006, and was supposedly horrible), but when it was screened at Butt-Numb-A-Thon this past December, the audience reported it to be great. So, what’s the verdict?

Well, Shutter Island is certainly not a bad movie, in fact, it’s quite possibly a great movie. Shutter Island stars Leonardo DiCaprio as Teddy Daniels, a U.S. Marshall and his partner Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) as they investigate the disappearance of Rachel Solando (Emily Mortimer), an inmate at an institute for the criminally insane, who seems to have escaped into thin air. As Teddy and Chuck investigate further, they butt heads with the facility administrators, and begin unraveling a mystery which may involve Nazi’s and other Cold War espionage.

It’s a tight little mystery, a paranoid thriller, and Scorsese deftly directs the film. He’s careful enough to leave clues that a discerning viewer will pick up on, but nothing is so obvious as to stick out as being an obvious piece of the puzzle, at least not the puzzle that really lies at the heart of Shutter Island. Yes, it has a bit of a twist ending, but it’s not a huge cheat (like say Fight Club or High Tension), though it’s not something you are totally shocked at (like the first time you saw The Sixth Sense). Of course like many movies with twist endings, there are some things that don’t add up entirely, but a lot of it does, which is a great relief. The cast here is excellent, bursting at the seams with great performers filling even small roles, many of which are more like extended cameos than true supporting performances.

The film looks great, something that should be no surprise to anyone, it is Scorsese after all, and if he can do one thing right, it’s make a film that looks good. It’s nice to see someone so vital and alive in their craft, so long into their career. Scorsese is still making beautifully directed films, even if the films themselves are not as great as his earlier work. They’re not, but the important thing is, he hasn’t lost his teeth like his contemporaries, such as Speilber, Lucas, DePalma or Coppola. Shutter Island is a good time at the theater, a twisty and dark mystery that is certainly worth seeing,

Upcoming

February 21st: The Class

Blaxploitation Week (February 22nd-28th)

February 22nd: Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassssss Song

February 23rd: Shaft

February 24th: Super Fly

February 25th: The Mack

February 26th: Foxy Brown

February 27th: Dolemite