The Boss in the Kitchen

I know I've said this before but probably quite a while back so newer readers may not know it but my husband is a decent cook. He comes from a line of chefs/caterers and we have had our share of catering businesses in the past and, although he doesn't do it any more professionally, he is nevertheless genetically programmed to cook. Well.

So at Christmas, if we're at home Christmas Day which we will be this year, he's definitely the boss in all matters culinary. As it draws closer P tends to spend more time in the kitchen and our meals leading up to Christmas tend to get more glamorous, perhaps it's his version of getting into training. We can't use granulated stocks, thickening agents or proprietary additives to make life easy at this time of year, it's all rouxs and meat bones, fish heads and jus. Bought-in brandy sauce? Forget it, start off with butter and plain flour, he tells me, if it's worth doing it's worth doing properly. Yes I did say he tells me, because you see I have to act as commis for him and he chivvies me around to keep me on my toes and he expects me to get things right.

I don't mind actually, I've learned loads from him over the years and I like him telling me to do this and that and how to get it right, and stopping to explain something if I do it wrong. And then there's the pats on the bum to encourage me and threats of more than pats if I get the same thing wrong twice. 

That hasn't happened yet but a girl commis can imagine.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx