Cooking Class

Waterbury found me toolin' around in the kitchen yesterday, making an Awesome. I don't know if I've told you about the Awesome before. It's this sandwich I invented only a month ago but it is already my favorite. Here's the stacking order of ingredients:

Kaiser roll bottom
aioli
salt
pepper
sliced onion
lettuce leaf
avocado
lettuce leaf
chopped olives
lettuce leaf
3 slices roasted turkey
five slices spicy salami!
lettuce leaf
cooked hamburger patty
sliced onion
brie slice
mayonnaise
top bun

Anyhow, he noticed that I have some creativity when it comes to food, so he suggested that I enroll in this Italian cooking course down at Granite, this upscale kitchen shop in Hidden Hills. They got one of those "cooking classrooms" toward the back of the store, you know, where like twenty people can watch a chef prepare things step by step, and there is a mirror above him at an angle so you can see what his hands are doing.

I strolled on down there tonight to check the class out, since the description sounded good. They said you'd make like osso buco and fresh polenta and you could have wine and stuff. Plus, Granite is right next to Napoleon's, this plush bar, so I could just go there if I didn't like it (the class).

I showed up and it was a pretty decent crowd: some young hip couples, some wealthier-lookin' older couples, single guys who you could tell were chefs, and even this one fine group of four girlfriends. I mean fine. Sweet-shaped butts, all that stuff. I was definitely gonna stay 'til at least the break.

So first the teacher got into it, and I mean he really laid into it. He ran out with two big raw veal shanks in his hands, holdin' 'em high like they were Olympic torches, as this really fun, bouncy Sicilian music played. He totally worked the crowd, and we all stood up and pumped our hands and shook our hips. So krunked. Such a good start. I looked over and the ladies were totally shakin' it.

As he started throwing stuff into pans and making people laugh, I got a little vibration from my cell phone. It's one of those new phones that people who are nearby can use to text you. It was one of the chicks from the class! I guess she had read my T-Mobile LocalFriend profile, because she started telling me she was into music and maybe we should talk at the break. I looked up and sure enough she was looking straight at the cat hisself. I gave her the wink and slipped the phone into my Calvins.

The chef was one of those guys who likes to have audience participants. I don't know how these guys can always spot me, but as soon as he asked for a volunteer I knew 100% that it was gonna end up being me. Sure enough, he tossed an eggplant right at me and yelled Catch! I caught it easy enough and he waved for me to come up and "audience participate." I tossed the thing back and smoothed it up to the counter, waving at the class as they cheered, all in a fun manner. I could see the fine chica smiling at me. I was ready to crack her up, and chef had given me my stage.

So we set up to braise off the osso buco, and for that you need wine, but we both noticed that there was none on the counter. He asked me to go into the wine storage room at the back of the store and fetch some Barolo. I lit off back there, but it was pretty dark. Most of the doors were locked, and eventually I found one that wasn't but unfortunately it led out into the alley and before my eyes could adjust I was locked out. It was one of those big insulated doors, so no good pounding on it. I ran around to the front of the shop, but the doors had been locked since it was after shopping hours, and no one could hear me knock since the class was pretty far back and all that music was playin'. I even took out my cell, but I was too far from the chica to text her.

I was up the creek. I wanted to wait until class got out and intercept the girl, so I set myself up at Napoleon's with a double Bisquit and let the stress fall away. The thing hit me pretty hard, since I'd gone to the class on an empty stomach, so when I was done I tabbed out and decided to make for home, completely forgetting about her. I did remember that we had some new mail-order Niman steaks, so I picked up a nice red at Hole In One Liquors, across the street.

The Granite class had just finished, and the chef had come out with everybody to have a smoke and laugh and talk about next time. Then he spotted me holding the bottle and held up his hand. "Thief!" he yelled. I looked down at the bottle and in an instinct from my younger days, I bolted.

Hopefully the girl ain't so good with her phone that she has me looked up and arrested. Meanwhile, I don't think I'm gonna be shopping at Granite anytime soon. They probably got my photo up in their front door all post office style.