For the Love of Dirt: COOKING CLASS

Tuesday, January 10, 2023

COOKING CLASS

" To cook, or not to cook. It depends on whether it slithers......" - R. Raphe

Waiting list. Anticipation. After New Year's cooking class. The primo class of the entire year. Those who did not get in, hovered expectantly outside the glass viewing screen. Drooling. Hopeful someone would drop out. Hopeful they would get a taste.

SNAILS . Escargarot a la Bourguignonne......taught by none other than Madame Simone, all the way from Knockemstiff Buckeye, Ohio ( real town, by the way). She was all in white, white hair, white hair clips, white sneakers. She glowed. She said "Magnifique" a lot. I think it was the only thing knew. She was pretty magnifique herself.

We lingered over our vats of live snails. bowls of garlic , butter and shallots , bottles of white wine. Madame Simone adjust her apron and clapped her hands. There was a hush, as she gave her instructions. Like a symphony conductor she waved her hands.

Faces smooshed against the viewing window. It was magical. It was wonderful. We mashed garlic into a paste with table salt. We had an audience.

Pots of water bubbled and burped snails in their shells. Then they were whisked onto white towels in a cacophony of applause from the window people. They looked on hungrily.

Madame Simone showed us how to yank snails from their shells. Then dropped the snails into ice water. Madam Simone shoed to get the slime off the snails. paper towels. ice water. Repeat. It was not for the faint of heart.

Slime was not welcome in her kitchen. Half the class scrubbed shells. The other half squeezed snails with gloved hands. Some of the snails popped like gooey balloons.

And all the while, Madame Simone conducted . She smiled. She was pleased.

Beat the butter, add shallots, garlic paste, salt and pepper. It was a dance. It was a wondrous dance. Madame Simone hummed as she demonstrated.

The Window people crowded . Drooled when she stuffed a snail into a shell and slathered it with butter. Wine sprinkled.

We scurried to find baking pans. Smothered each pan with butter. Divided up the snails and shells. Madame Simone put on Debussy's "La Cathedrale engloutie" (Sunken Cathedral ) and closed her eyes. It was if the water engulfed us as we rained down with butter and snails.

Another hush developed as the snails baked at 4-6 minutes. The scent of garlic wafting over our heads. Madame Simone whispered "Magnifique".....

In reverence we placed our dishes before Madame. She thoughtfully walked back and forth . Nodding. We had done well. And now was the time . To see the fruit of our efforts.

Madame Simone decided to taste. She poured more butter garlic over the shells, took an edge and pulled on one. A long, squishy slug emerged from the shell. It wriggled on the fork. It wriggled in time to the piano music. In horror she shrieked . She glared. She swooned. She poured some wine.

Our pod got a failing grade. And the window people? Well, they high tailed it out of there. Wriggling Escargots a la Bourguignonne was not on the course description after that......