A friend told me about a restaurant he'd visited on a trip to New York. There was essentially no menu. You walked in, you are seated, and you are asked a single question:
How would you like your steak cooked?
Then they bring you an utterly fantastic steak with fries and bernaise sauce. They do this one thing, they do it incredibly well, and they do it cheaply because they can take advantage of economies of scale.
I love this mindset of setting out to do something as utterly right as humanly possible. The example I had previously was a
Strangely, I don't think my good lady actually thought I'd attempt to make any of the actual recipes when she bought me a copy of Heston Blumenthal's "Further Adventures in Search of Perfection" for Christmas last year. Sometimes I worry about how little she appears to know me. A chili con carne recipe which takes three days to prepare is exactly the sort of challenge I'm practically incapable of resisting. A black forest gateau that requires the use of a hoover? I say "bring it on!"
I do intend to have a crack at those
I like bread. I like it lot. So I was quite pleased when my parents gave me their bread machine and associated recipe book a couple of years ago. Their reasoning was (believe it or not) that I was the only one actually able to make bread with it. Their own attempts closely resembled articles suitable for construction, rather than ones suitable for mastication.
So I've used it on and off since then. Sometimes the bread was good (the sweet potato bread, for example, is awesome), sometimes it was bad (chick pea bread: no, no, no). Just lately I've been