a contumacious chef's culinary curmudgeonry
About two years in the making, looking for authentic vintage 18th century cut diagrams, finding a tattoo place I felt comfortable with (Pain and Pleasure in Duncanville, TX – warning MySpace page), finding the right time when I didn’t have to have my arms up some critter’s entrails at work for a few days, and justifying the purchase to myself, here we are:
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Regular readers (all three of you) know, that I don’t eat or serve veal. Unless, that is, it’s raised with its mother instead of being nailed into a box and fed ProViMi (a mix of – you guessed it – Proteins, Vitamins, and Minerals). This is where your veal should come from: Taken at the [...]
Gordon Ramsay is wrong. No, not about that “head chef” myth Fox and he are spreading despite the fact that not one winner in six seasons was made head chef (and, seeing the quality of cooks, I can’t say I am surprised). And, no, not about calling amateur cooks “Master Chef” after six weeks of [...]
My name isn’t exactly common. In most cases I am able to get jluster as my username. There’s one other Jonas Luster in the world, and he’s 87 and in Sweden. Yet, gmail, oh faithful mail delivery and reading tool of mine, regularly reminds me that there are some others out there who share that [...]
Just submitted that to Digg, man, this is extreme chef gold!
It looks like the cow is sniffing the pig’s butt.
That’s not a cow, that’s a steer. We don’t eat cow in the United States, except at McDonalds.