Yesterday there were mutterings about my bossiness when in the kitchen. When I’m the chef. I tend to feel that when I’m cooking, it’s my domain and everybody else can just fuck off. Sometimes I just don’t have the sang-froid to be cool and polite when say, another member of staff chooses peak rush hour to come in and ask for food. I may well respond irritably. They complained that I
“act as if I’m in charge”.
So sue me.
Oh well. I wasn’t put on this planet to be liked.
Yesterday I cooked a bunch of stuff. But I do find English vegetables incredibly uninspiring. I did something interesting with tempeh which I slightly nicked off another blogger but cannot remember who. I marinated the tempeh in lemon zest and juice. Then made it into risotto by stir-frying the tempeh, rice, ginger and garlic in sesame and olive oil. Then added water. I topped it with roast fennel.
The dish was a success but tempeh is basically pretty disgusting. It tastes like bum hole. (Not that I’ve ever tasted bum hole. Coughs.)