This is for all of us who always loved playing with our food.
You may recall from a while back a certain jar of kimchi from a cheese pairing class and the appearance it made in the kitchen.
Well, it’s still kicking around and only getting fizzier.
A typical summer dinner around here, when it’s too hot to cook and there’s too much in the fridge to not experiment with, involves: a) the cutting board, and b) a whole bunch of stuff piled on the cutting board ready to be put together in various combinations. Also see b*), the sub-category composed of toasted bread, which often makes the salutary contribution of allowing and encouraging the creation of canapés.
A couple weeks ago, we had a variety of participants enter the fray: many of the usual suspects, including purple and yellow string beans, celery almond pesto, almond butter, tahini, and, of course, the kimchi, as well as some newcomers, including kohlrabi, empire apple, dried cherries, and toast (just kidding). Let’s see how things played out, shall we?
Apple, kimchi, purple string bean, toast. I call this ‘The Haberdasher’. Because it looks like a hat obviously. What’s that you say? A haberdasher may not herself be a hat?
Kohlrabi, kimchi, dried cherry. This guy here is ‘The Man-o’-war’. It sort of looks like a battleship, or a navyman lying prone with a scarlet side-beret. In any case, it was spicy, crunchy, sweet, and delicious, just like all battleships.
Kimchi, purple string bean. Behold, ‘Dragon in Space’! Everyone needs a healthy dose of Brancusi remix now and again, right?
Apple, celery pesto, walnut. I call this ‘Janus, reclining’. It looks like Janus leaning back on a pastoral hillock, on a pedestal. So maybe then it’s a sculpture of a sculpture that has never existed. I now solicit your comments.
Celery pesto, apple, kimchi, toast. ‘The Last Stander’. Barely erect amid friend and foe torn asunder, reduced to crumbs and flecks on the battlefield of worn wood, the sole survivor from a colossal clash of ingredients stands ready, a bite already hewn from his side, awaiting his certain fate. Praying to the kimchi gods that his soul be given mercy, he takes his stance bravely against the final imminent onslaught. Perhaps not this battle, perhaps not this day, but he knows that at some time to come his people will rise up, united in their spicy fermented cabbage-ness, and give honour to the kimchi name – and yes! in truth, for all the great races of canapé-dom thus, dispose the day.