7 p.m..
Sirens blare. You run to the window and a blue staccato flash
nearly blinds you. Fourteen black Ford Excursions and five limousines
pull up in front of your house. The deafening flap, flap, flap
of a helicopter vibrates overhead. Suddenly, a dozen deadly
serious men in black suits surround you. One of them approaches.
"There's no time to explain. We need dinner for 6. Immediately."
The President and several Middle Eastern leaders are ushered
in as you run to the kitchen. You swing open the refrigerator
door and what you see sends you into a panic: leftover Thai
food, beer, chocolate syrup, lettuce, strawberry-mango yogurt
and four packets of ketchup.
Your pantry could have saved you. It could have saved you and
brought peace to the Middle East.
Now, if they'd stopped at my house, I'd have served a
roasted garlic goat cheese and pine nut tart with arugula salad,
grilled pork loin in a balsamic Dijon reduction, four-cheese
tortellini with artichoke hearts and capers. Chocolate mousse
Napoleons with Frangelico and toasted almonds would conclude
an impressive and deceivingly simple repast. Dietary restrictions
not withstanding, that meal certainly would have brought
tolerance—if not absolute peace—to the troubled Arabian
peninsula.
Despite all the (very welcomed) compliments and praises, I'm
not a culinary genius. I'm an extremely successful culinary
fraud. I'm a dilettante and a show-off, and I say: 'If
you can't make it, fake it!' My pantry does most of the work
for me. People often ask, "How do you pull this off?"
or "How long did this meal take to prepare?" or even
"Did you mentor Julia Child?" My modest reply is always
"I have a terrific pantry."
Make no mistake, here. I admire and respect the passionate process
of creating a splendid meal—no shortcuts. Sometimes I go
through that rewarding process, myself; but, usually, I just
don't slow down enough for that to happen. So, I rely heavily
on a list of all-star assistants to help me perform culinary
legerdemain at a moment's notice.
I've chronicled, for you, the most influential items in my pantry.
The list isn't exhaustive, but these particular ingredients
have great impact on presentation, flavor, and ease of preparation.
They're the diamond earrings that perfectly complement a little
black dress.
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Frozen
|
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•
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puff
pastry sheets |
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•
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pie
crust |
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•
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spinach
|
|
•
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raw
nuts |
|
•
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leftover
wine for sauces |
| |
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Oils
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•
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extra
virgin olive oil |
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•
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sesame
oil |
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•
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truffle
oil (white or black is fine) |
| |
|
Buy
small dark bottles. It's better to run out than for your
oils to turn rancid.
|
| |
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Spices,
Dried Herbs, Extracts
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•
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seasoning
blend
(i.e. "Mrs. Dash") |
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•
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cumin |
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•
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curry
powder |
|
•
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smoked
sweet paprika |
| |
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Dairy
|
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•
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heavy
cream |
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•
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sour
cream |
|
•
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parmesan |
|
•
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bleu
cheese |
|
•
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hard
cheeses |
|
•
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goat
cheese |
| |
|
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Miscellany
|
|
|
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•
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sun-dried
tomatoes |
|
•
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pesto |
|
•
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pitted
Kalamata olives |
|
•
|
high-end
mustards |
|
•
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dried
shiitake mushrooms |
|
•
|
pasta |
|
•
|
prepared
pizza crust |
| |
|
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Produce
|
|
|
|
•
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sweet
potatoes |
|
•
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arugula |
| |
I maintain small amounts of the basics—bread, fresh meat
and seasonal vegetables—as a canvas for the 'paint' lining
the shelves of my pantry. So, when I decide to invite someone
over for an impromptu dinner, I'm able to easily prepare something
as casually elegant as a vintage string of pearls.
•
goat cheese
and kalamata olive tart with wilted arugula
•
ginger mashed
sweet potatoes with spiced pecans
•
Greek salad
with sun dried tomato crostini
•
shiitake
mushroom bisque with parmesan croutons
•
goat cheese
and spinach quiche with pesto sour cream
•
curried
three cheese tart
•
cumin roasted
sweet potato fries with smoked paprika mayonnaise
•
bleu cheese
and pecan tart with truffle oil
•
sesame noodles
with garlic and arugula
