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oh, oobee doo, i wanna be like khoo

20 Mar

Yes, I admit, I was skeptical upon seeing the adverts for a forthcoming show about a pretty lady in Paris – blurgh!  But I actually quite enjoyed it.

Maybe I stupidly fell for the lovely clothes, the nice lipstick and exciting atmosphere of gay Paris.  But what I did like was the size of her kitchen: she could stand in the middle, reach out and touch each wall.  Impressive.  Her simple French dishes were created on a little gas ring, grill and oven with the fridge doubling up as a chalk board (nice idea but there’s a far better Etch-a-Sketch in Chez Fanny).

Yes, I wanted to be one of Rachel’s hip mates, squeezing in to her petit appartement to eat madeleines stuffed with raspberries and curd and drink tea.  Well, maybe one day I will.  Rachel runs La Petite Cuisine a Paris out of her miniature flat so one day, I’m sure …

The level of skill required for last night’s recipes was minimal, even I can manage to pop some flattened bread in to a muffin tray, add a bit of ham, egg and roux then whack it in the oven.  There’s a fine line between illustrating dishes that are surprisingly simple and those that are, well, stuff you’d rustle up at midnight after the pub.  Lorraine Pascale has, at one point, explained the simplicity of slicing a swiss roll, placing it in a bowl and filling it with ice cream … I ask you!

I will definitely make some madeleines, the lamb stew looked rustic enough for my talents but the coq au vin on a skewer – I’ll give that a miss.

I’m certainly looking forward to nights in with Miss Khoo if only via the medium of telly.

 

 

One response to “oh, oobee doo, i wanna be like khoo

  1. chef de cuisine

    March 27, 2012 at 1:32 pm

    So, after a bit of telly box fail (missing the first 5 minutes!), I settled down to episode 2 of Miss Khoo. I still like her but I think I’d rather hang out with her nice boulanger friend, he was awesome. Like Rachel, I too get messy in the kitchen but this involves dropping things on the floor rather than spilling flour on my pretty dress.
    Eggs. In cups. In oven friendly cups. I can do that. I think I will. After making Sunday brunch involving sauteed garlic/mushrooms & poached egg on toast (Carsmile did the egg) I feel I’m getting the hang of this cooking lark, one stage at a time. Maybe one day I’ll be good enough & cool enough for Rachel to knock at my front door. Well, I might never be that cool.

     

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