Welcome back to the continuing misadventures of Kitchen Shane: A Learning Experience.
As I've mentioned before, the only hobby I picked up in quarantine has been my ongoing quest to attempt to figure out how to use these strange devices that take up space in my kitchen. For decades, I had assumed that the sole purpose of the "refrigerator" device was to keep leftover pizza cold until you used the "oven" device to warm it back up. But, as it turns out, you can actually use these devices for tasks OTHER than cooling and/or warming pizzas.
My kitchen skills have always been slim to none, but I'm nothing if not someone with the time, fortitude, and committed laziness to waste entire evenings watching instructional videos on Youtube. With a little knowledge, a fair share of trials, and a whole lot of errors, it turns out I'm not entirely incompetent at mixing food with other food in order to make better food.
It started off fairly slowly by learning some simple bachelor-in-the-kitchen truths. For instance: Frozen vegetables are boring. Chicken is boring. But if you cover both with cream of mushroom soup and a positively unhealthy amount of cheese, you can pass it off as a casserole and suddenly you are a chef. If you add tater tots, it becomes a "hotdish" and you are now a master of regional cuisine.
My triumphs with casseroles slowly grew into more and more experimental territory. I'm not saying I've developed Julia Child skills or anything, but, people, the other day I braised short ribs. A year ago at this time, I didn't know what a short rib WAS. As for braising, I thought it was some fancy skateboarding move or something, i.e. "dude, you totally braised that rail!" Even more shocking? The end result was somewhat edible, and even worthy of a Facebook food photo. Yep, I've turned into THAT guy. Thanks, COVID.
But I think I've reach the zenith of my cooking skills. There's nothing more I need to know about braising, baking, or broiling. I'm done with simmering, stir-frying, and steaming. I have no need to knead. I can pass myself of as a master chef simply by knowing how to press ONE button. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
When I didn't give my parents a wish list for Christmas a couple years back, I ended up with two presents I never knew I needed: a breadmaker and an Instant Pot.
Okay, let's be honest. The breadmaker was kind of a bust. I think I've used it three whole times, and each attempt has resulted in a dense, unpleasant, almost-edible loaf of something that could charitably be called "bread-ish" at best.
I'm okay with that. Bread isn't easy. I know this because I've watched every single episode of the Great British Baking Show. I've seen some of Europe's best bakers absolutely botch a loaf of bread. One time a guy mistook salt for sugar. I haven't even done that, and I once started a kitchen fire trying to make a hot dog. If pro chefs can screw up bread, I don't feel so bad when I mess it up. Maybe one day I'll again be inspired to carefully measure ingredients and put them into an angry box that vomits out a tasteless rectangle of flour. For now, though, I'm focused on the other gift.
I think I wrote a column last year after playing around with my Instant Pot for a bit. At the time, I thought it was a neat novelty and something to fool around with once in a while. After lockdown, I'm now convinced it's the only appliance worth owning. Well, that and a dishwasher. And a clothes washer. And a vacuum. I'm not a heathen.
But for the past year, my oven has once again returned to its natural dormant state of hibernation. Every meal I've made has been in that magical pressure cooker, and I'm nowhere near satiated yet. At first, I thought, "Cool, a faster way to make chili and pot roasts. Sign me up." Then I discovered one of the most magical channels on all of Youtube: Pressure Luck Cooking. I divorced my oven soon after.
Pressure Luck is the brainchild of Jeffrey Eisner, an amateur home chef and self-proclaimed "nice Jewish boy from New York." Eisner was an early proponent of the Instant Pot, and when a video of his pressure-cooked mac & cheese went viral, he quit his day job and launched his Youtube channel. Since then, he's released two best-selling cookbooks and is a frequent guest of the Food Network, Good Morning America, and the fateful day I happened to catch him on the Rachael Ray Show.
On a whim, that next weekend I attempted to replicate the recipe he featured that day on TV. It didn't come out good. It came out GREAT. Like, the kind of great that I'd pay good money to eat in a restaurant. Except that I made it. Well, I guess technically the Instant Pot made it. But I put all the stuff INTO the Instant Pot and hit the "start" button, so that counts, right?
Does it officially mean I'm getting old when the day I look forward to the most is Sunday, because it's become my official Instant Pot Day? Every week, I keep trying different recipes from Pressure Luck and other Youtube channels, and I've yet to find a loser in the bunch. A couple weeks ago, Eisner was doing an online Q&A and I asked a question. I didn't get a response from him, but I DID get private messaged from another Instant Pot user who runs an invite-only group for Mexican Instant Pot recipes. Someone else invited me into a forum for people to share their Instant Pot secrets.
Everyone is super nice. Almost scary nice. I'm eating really well, but I also might now be in a cult. If you catch me actually worshipping my Instant Pot, please send deprogrammers. But they'd better have, like, a ton of pizza.
No comments:
Post a Comment