In Defense of Home Cooking
(3 minute read, 712 words)
Mayo is nothing more than food glue.
It’s gross; I don’t like it and find it difficult to order any sandwich off a restaurant’s menu. Mayo or some form of aioli is on almost every item, making eating out hard. Sure, I can request not to have it on my sandwich, but I have learned that you can only make ONE request. I have to pick my battles if something else on the sandwich is questionable. Which one can I scrape off easily or grin and bare it. Most of the time, I give up, and I am reduced to maybe two options.
A simple sandwich is not the standard anymore.
In Europe, aioli is made with only two ingredients: garlic and emulsified olive oil. This version sounds yummy to me, and I can get behind. But in America, it has become commonly known as flavored mayonnaise, which is totally not okay. Hell, aioli didn’t really hit the scene in America until 1990, and 30+ years later, you can’t get away from it. Such is the case this week. We were going out to a museum and needed a quick meal beforehand. I picked a place known for their “burger concoctions” (their words, not mine).
You see where this is going, don’t you?
I studied the menu before I got there and decided what I would have and what needed to be deleted. I wanted to try something outside my usual “safe” options—something new. I picked the “Chicken Ranch Bacon Burger.” It had a grilled chicken patty, bacon, white American cheese, crispy onions, ranch slaw, chipotle aioli, and pickles on an egg bun.
I went out on the edge and lived dangerously, asking for no chipotle aioli AND ranch slaw. After ordering at the counter (“fast-ish” casual joint), we sat and waited for our food. I expressed my apprehension about what I was going to get. And sure enough, when it was plopped down in front of me, the sandwich had chipotle aioli dripping off of it.
This typical situation puts me in a double bind. Bringing the sandwich back up to the counter and asking for them to remake it means either they will take the sandwich back and scrape off the aioli and hand it back to me, or they will, indeed, make another one, but the likelihood of it having spit in it is pretty high.
Don’t piss off the people who cook and serve your food….EVER!
Luckily, Marcus had ordered a simple burger (maybe because he saw the foreshadowing that I didn’t) and offered to trade sandwiches. Have I mentioned how much I love my husband? I pouted during the whole meal. I really wanted that sandwich. I asked him how it was, and he told me they didn’t even season the chicken patty. I knew then that I would have been disappointed even if they had gotten the order correct. Their website boasts, “…dedicated to doing the best rendition out there with the high-quality ingredients and even higher standards…”
I think not.
Here is the thing: I understand the fascination with making concoctions—the creative process of inventing new combinations of tastes and textures. I’m a Gen-Xer, and I used to drink jungle juice willingly….but sometimes you just want a simple…whatever.
And this is why I cook.
Unsatisfied with what happened that night, I set out to make my own chicken ranch bacon burger. How do you make a ranch burger without ranch dressing? You make your seasoning palette, add it to the meat, and sprinkle it on top with a bit of olive oil. Here is what I came up with:
The sandwich was delicious. Would I have changed anything I did? Certainly, there is always room for growth with each recipe I try. But beyond tasting great, I love the fact that I can control the quantity and quality of my ingredients. I cook because it feeds my body, mind, and soul. And a little acknowledged bonus benefit is that it’s a little act of rebellion, a way to fight conformity. I don’t have to settle because a nameless, faceless corporation says I want mayo or aioli on my sandwich.
This is why I cook.
Gordon Ramsey: “Keeping it simple in the kitchen doesn’t mean you can’t have amazing food that not only looks incredible but also tastes fantastic.”
