Dedicated to my friends, especially the ones who never said this was a bad idea, my sister and her fiance, because they like shiny things, and my parents, who were very supportive when they just found out I quit my day job to become the world’s first bubble composer.

Hope you enjoy
rice

I’m just going to come out and say it. As of last Monday, I’m on a diet. This sounds rather dismal and dreary in the context of a chicken and rice post, and in fact, this morning I was trying to find an angle on this whole diet thing, something to make it more palatable, or just more tolerable. As I sipped my coffee on the way out the door, now black with no cream or sugar, I found my angle.

For years, the true taste of coffee has eluded me, has been hidden behind cream, milk, sugar, sweetener, flavored creamer, half-and-half, splenda, nutra-sweet, and equal. Saccharine was but the curtain that fell between me, the audience, and the coffee, the dancers on stage. Now the curtain has been lifted, that a rich and bold kona blend taste may now freely dance across my taste buds. Where was this wonderful sensation every other time I drank coffee? Why had I not experienced this before?

Simply put, I had layered my coffee with crap for years. And not just coffee. Too often we lose the true taste, the essence of our food, in layers of condiments, add-ons, and sauces. While many sauces and condiments are delicious in their own way, when we smother our food in dressing, we also smother our food’s soul.

So I am now compelled to take a whole foods approach, but with a twist. I, too, have been moved by cassis, and the posts his exquisite description has inspired. The purpose of spice is not to flavor the food. The purpose of spice is to complement and further bring out the original flavor of the food. When all we taste is rosemary, we have ruined our chicken. And so I will be embarking on a journey of moderation, a journey to find the true tastes of foods we all may have taken for granted beneath layers and layers of glop. Now is the time to set those tastes free, to experience them in their unabated glory, to know in them all that they once were and can be again.

As in keeping with my new diet,  I will from time to time write here about these tastes as I uncover them. Peeling back the coverings of high fructose corn syrup and monosodium glutamate, we may yet find the taste of purity.

When people say that the best meal is the one you cook yourself, they are usually lying to you.  On a fateful Thursday night, however, with the stars and planets aligned, the moon full, and the Kurinji flower in bloom, the doors to hell itself opened, and I iron chefed up some dinner that was unbelievably good (please note: correlation does not imply causation). It was as if i was possessed by a master-chef of old. He whispered things. Ancient things. He said: (please note, the transcription below is not for the faint of heart)

2 boneless pork chops
1/2 medium green pepper, cut into squares
5 white mushrooms, sliced
3 sprouts of green onion, chopped
2 slices ham
1 slice American cheese
2 tsp thyme
1 tsp garlic
3 tbsp oil
salt, pepper

Trim some, but not all fat from pork chops. Coat each lightly with salt, pepper, garlic, and thyme. Heat oil in 12in non-stick saucepan at high. Sear either side of pork chop. Reduce heat to medium. Add green peppers. Wait a few minutes and then add mushrooms. Stir mushrooms and green peppers, and flip pork chops occasionally to ensure even cooking. When pork chop is almost cooked, place 1/2 slice of cheese on each pork chop and cover with a slice of ham. Wait until cheese is melted and throw green onions on top of dish. Serve immediately. Recommended side: mashed potatoes.

The pork chops were moist, and enhanced by the flavor of the ham to give the dish just a tinge of sweetness. The sharpness of the cheese further accentuated the commonality of the ham and the pork, while literally holding the dish together. The green peppers and mushroom not only added moisture during the cooking process but had absorbed the flavor of the pork, and provided texture to the meal.

It had me at the first bite. It let me delve into its soul and search for the meaning of existence. For the first time in my life, I was a medium of greatness, as master chef and student pork chop conducted an orchestra in my kitchen. I asked what I should call it, and the pork chop whispered back, much like the ancient master who was possessing me at the time. Pork Xtreme, you are delicious. So it is written.