mtcodex

Finally, an edition of the Saturday Morning Kitchen, other than the inaugural one that’s posted on a Saturday. As you may guess by the title though, I have fallen to the level of talking to cheese. Not any cheese either, an atypical French cheese. In fact I think camembert is probably as French as cheese can get. Yes, I know there are others out there. The other week, when the future Mrs Turner was around, we got a Munster, which despite cast iron stomach made me feel quite off one night. Then there are other famous good ones, in the blue corner Roquefort and St Agur.. hurrah! In the hard corner Comté and Beaufort. In the soft corner Brie and Neufchâtel. Huzzah! Anyway, there’s just something about that velvety edible rind, begging to be caressed and then unwrapped to reveal it’s mellow creamy insides. Or maybe it’s just me.

This week the future Mrs Turner went home to San Francisco. That was Tuesday, it was a sad day. It even prompted me to write something poetical, such is my state. Meanwhile work has finally started to creep back into my life after a few weeks absence. In some ways being self employed is worse morally than working for a company. By that I mean, I would never, for example, do a gambling website. However, I have very strict standards when it comes to work, when you work for an employer and they ask you to bend them to get something done quicker, then at least you can say - well my employer said it. When you’re self employed you have the option of saying no to work up front. Stuff you know is just shockingly bad (work wise) but you don’t want to turn down the money as well as future money. I’m doing one of those jobs right now. I feel really strongly about NOT doing it. I know when I’m working for active ingredients it’s the kind of job they’d never do in the first place, so that’s some comfort. But if I was working for them i’d make sure they know i’d never do it before they agreed to it with the client. And here I am doing it for someone else. Why? Really because if I don’t do it they’ll be stuck (e.g. I’m a nice guy) and if I don’t take it they might not ask me to do any future jobs for them. Man, I can’t wait to be employed again. Brian, if you’re reading this, i’m a pain in the ass, but in the best way. I’ll accommodate whatever I can but unless it’s super duper urgent and there is a very good, or very political reason with lots of money hanging on it i’ll only do it right. Sorry, why would I do otherwise?

The future Mrs Turner also got me something this week. A couple of bottles of plonk from a little place she knows. That was a very sweet gesture of her, the thing is, one of the wine labels is ‘Fetzer’. I’m sure it’s fine, I know their gewürtztraminer it’s pretty good. But Fetzer. I just think of ‘fester’ every time I hear it and picture stagnant pools of souring grape juice waiting to go into giant vats. Maybe some flies are buzzing above it too. By the way, if you like gewürtztraminer try Wolf Blass’s Frontignac Traminer. It’s kind of like a muscat, very good.. exotic fruity flavour, that spicy undertone (which is what I love) and a (to quote the bottle) ‘clean finish’.

Ouai, that’s it.