Monday, November 26, 2007


So this past week my effort to diet took a nosedive. A deep nosedive. My parents were visiting from Chicago for Thanksgiving and Christine was geared up to cook Korean food for them on Wednesday and Friday (cooking is one of her new hobbies), so I was her sous chef for those meals and the head chef for Thanksgiving dinner.

Here I was surrounded by food. Rich, meaty food all week since we had my parents visiting and then a second Thanksgiving gathering of friends on Saturday. During this time I faced several temptations to eat while cooking and failed at every turn.

There was one specific moment when I knew I wasn't meant to be a professional chef since it would mean an early death for me. I was making this green bean recipe and the base was a mixture of mushroom stock, butter, and heavy whipping cream. As I was whisking in the heavy whipping cream, I felt an urge. Well, it seemed more like a calling. The carton of heavy whipping cream had this Bavarian man in his traditional outfit (think old school mountain climber in the Alps or someone from a Ricola commercial) and I thought I heard him say, "Drink it."

I was thinking how unhealthy would it be to drink rich, heavy cream? It would be crazy. How sweet would it be? Would it be too sweet where I would cringe? Or would it be tasty sweet? Finally I couldn't resist so I took a gulp... a few gulps of the heavy cream when Christine left the kitchen for a minute. I think it was about a third of the carton. It was tasty sweet.

At that moment, I realized I could never be a professional chef since I would simply taste, eat and die an early death. Scary.

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