Gentle readers, the final days are here. We bask in ritalin dependency and we grasp desperately to the few hours of sleep we steal away, but once through the crucible, I will cook one final meal. It will be a juggernaut and it shall sweep away the forests and throw down the mountains.
I have been given a carte blanche by a good friends mother to prepare a meal, the likes of which are seen only in the dreams of the desperate and the brave. Look upon my works Ye Mighty and Despair.
This is the kind of meal that Gordon Ramsay thinks about when a sobbing sous chef is blowing him. This is what God had in mind when he gave man fire.
Here is the preliminary menu… Keep in mind that there will be homemade Brioche e’re w’re in this bitch.
Tuna Rillettes with Kalmata and thyme bread. So funky, so smooth.
Romaine wedges with diced cherry tomatoes, carmalized onions, and homemade salad sauce.
Then comes the Oysters Mosca (Baked and stuffed), and a stuffed squash (Spraying cream and cheese unto the upturned faces of it’s fanatical followers).
Then comes Canard aux Franboises (Raspberry duck, cooked like the last one: Duck a l’orange). It should be noted that if we are once again not able to get a fresh duck I shall be making stuffed cornish game hens. I think I will be dusting the skin with an extremely light layer of pistachio and almond for texture, color, and taste; then running either tapenade or a prosciutto/butter mix. The stuffing will most likely be a bit of sausage and lemon, or apple, or pear. Either will be good.
Finally, as I lay dying in the kitchen, my life force drained from my face and my hands, I will make some Peaches Louis (Sugar, salt, cinnamon, peaches, whiskey flambe!)
- homnominum posted this