My life revolves around food. If I have any other passion I certainly don't reveal it to my friends. My Christmas presents this year, like many years before, were all cook books. My collection has swelled to well over 50 quality titles.
The recent additions include "Marcella says..." by Marcella Hazan; "Barefoot Contessa in Paris" by Ina Garten; "Louis Osteen's Charleston Cuisine" by Louis Osteen; "The Gourmet Cookbook" edited by Ruth Reichl, a magazine subscription to an ABC (Australian) publication "Delicious" and Maurizio Terzini's "Something Italian".
The latter book brought with it some Australian nostalgia. It was a gift from my parents in a care package that also included Italian coffee(!) and Australian chocolate cookies (Mint Slices and Tim Tams). The book is beautifully designed with the trademark food styling and photography Donna Hay pioneered in her cookbook series. It is also very Australian with such words as "daggy" in the copy and the emphasis on super fresh ingredients, sharp, strong flavors thrown together in a casual Mediterranean way.
What I was most excited to see in the book was the author, Maurizio Terzini. He started his restaurant career creating Cafe e' Cucina. A restaurant I worked in after I was tired of waiting tables at cafes and "restaurants" that had locations better than the food. I didn't work very long at Cafe e Cucina but I loved every minute of it. I learned so much from the experience and Maurizio's advice and style still stands out some 10 years later.
Here the staff and clientele called me Domenico in this lush wanting manor. The staff because they needed the help and loved the attention speaking Italian always got them. The clientele to show how global and sophisticated they were. Whatever the reason, it was truly one of the first times I felt the sexiness of my Italian heritage.
Cafe e Cucina also taught me a level of professional service I had been oblivious to receiving and giving. I was told quite sternly by the chef not to shake a plate of pasta, the pasta didn't need to reach the plate's edge as it did in my home. Maurizio also showed me how to professionally clear a table (something only the finest American restaurants understand) and serve an espresso -- with the teaspoon handle pointed toward the diner on the right hand side of the cup.
The whole experience was an awakening of senses, of possibilities and style. I would sit at the bar during a break in the dinner service to eat my staff meal -- a glass of red wine, any pasta off the board and great bread to wipe the dish clean. I think this experience fundamentally changed my expectations on what a restaurant meal could be. I search for this constantly and so few places deliver.
Today's Christmas dim sum meal couldn't be further from that enchanting experience -- long waits, large crowds, impersonal service, shared tables, harsh lighting and no ambience worth mentioning. The only saving grace is the food. It has extraordinary dim sum. So good it makes up for everything else.
