Wednesday, June 24, 2009

The Way To A Man's Heart

Some might say, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I think not just man's heart, woman's too. I have a French Menu Cookbook by Richard Olney given by my friend L. I love this book. The way he wrote about food is very sensual. If he invited me to his place for dinner, I would go in a heart beat.

Richard Olney didn't invite me to his place for dinner obviously. He passed away in 1999 in his Provencal home. But S did. He wanted to take a stab at making a rack of lamb. At the end, I didn't go that night. I didn't know the fate of the rack of lamb. Perhaps he ate it all. But our fate didn't change because I didn't show up that night. Roughly 1 year after no show on the dinner invitation, we were dating. At the end, him and I together, was a perfect recipe for a disaster.

Towards the end of a relationship, it's always take one last struggle. When you know that it is definitely dieing, then you have to decide how do you want it to die. For me, I wanted to give it a beautiful death. That night, I purposely put on a slinky tang top and a mini skirt, (casual looking, just to make it I wasn't trying too hard) and made roasted rack of lamb. S said, "You just want to make it difficult for me, dress like this, made me such a nice meal...." Yes. I wanted to make it as difficult for you as possible. I wanted to remind you one more thing you would be missing besides me in my slinky outfit. There was also my rack of lamb! The slinky outfit was my armour, and rack of lamb was my sword. I wanted to get into your heart through your stomach, and tattooed my name on it with my sword, and watched it bled. When the next woman got there, she would know I was there, and my name will always be there.

At the time, the whole night tasted so bitter. But when we have our memories marinating in the brain, or simply left in the freezer unnoticed over the years, the memories taste differently than when they were fresh. I don't know if he still remembers my rack of lamb, but it was my attempt at the time to get into his heart through his stomach, not for love, for hatred I guess. Love and hate, they are very similar emotions. When I think of that night now, it is not bitter anymore. It is more bitter sweet. After all, he was someone who wasn't worth it. I moved on.

Roasted Rack of Lamb with Thyme, Dijon Mustard, and Honey Glazed

Serves 2

1 rack of lamb (8 ribs), trimmed of fat, French trimmed
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
3/4 tbsp fresh thyme leaves (or rosemary)
3/4 tbsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tbsp honey
ground black pepper
3/4 tbsp olive oil

1. Preheat oven 425F

2. Mix garlic, thyme leaves, Dijon mustard, honey, ground black pepper and olive oil in a bowl. Taste and adjust seasoning accordingly. Coat mixture onto the meat of the rack of lamb. Let it marinate for 15 - 30 minutes

3. Put the rack in a shallow roasting pan, and roast for 25 minutes for medium rare or 35 minutes for medium. (meat thermometer inserted into the meaty part should reach 135F to 140F for medium rare to medium).

4. Slice lamb ribs between the bones into chops. Garnish with fresh thyme or rosemary.


  1. Too bad I'm not a big fan of eating myself (u know what i mean) Make some recipe about some pasta. That's probably what I can cook most often! :D Suddenly, just spot that your heading said that you make postings weekly? haha :D

  2. like the cliched Chinese phrase - there is only a fine line between love and hatred.
    like your directness...not trying to be miss innocent.