bacon and onion, mmmmmm.....

I knew the lentil soup was going to be good the instant the bacon hit the pan. Not even a second later, sweet smokiness filled my nose and I fell in love with bacon all over again. It happens to me every single time I fry bacon, without fail. Then I added the onions and let those release their incredible fragrance. I took a deep breath as I leaned over the pan, "mmmmmmmm," I sighed. I thought of my room mate tonight because one day she told me that she was "firmly convinced that the presence of God smells like that of fresh cut cilantro". However, I am firmly convinced that the presence of God smells like bacon and onions sizzling gently in a pan.

About a year ago I read an article by my favorite chef, Grant Achatz. He talked about how people taste food differently and the difficulty that poses to us as cooks. I thought it was a fascinating piece and one that I thought about for days after reading it, and still think about a year later. This particular article also made me really insecure because how was I ever supposed to be able to season food properly if everyone tasted it differently? So last week we did an exercise that has dispelled my fear of seasoning and made me a more confident cook. Chef took equal amounts of chicken stock, and lined them up with ascending amounts of salt (none, 1/4 tsp, 1/2 tsp, 1 tsp, etc.) and we tasted them all and told him what we thought was perfect. On the chart of saltiness I fell into the lower half (meaning I like less salt) but very close to the middle. However, Chef was above me on the salty scale. I now know that when I am seasoning my food in class, which he tastes and grades me on, I need to salt it to where I think is appropriate and then salt a little more in order to get to his preference. Tonight, I thought my lentil soup was perfectly seasoned and like clockwork, Chef thought it needed salt. I got so excited because it tasted wonderful to me that I forgot I should add that extra little pinch.