It was Gone in the Blink of an I.

There I was again, preparing fried potatoes. I had cut them all into perfect shapes, blanched them in one hundred fifty degree oil, and was ready to go. I dropped the first handful into the oil and winced as the oil coated the tip of my middle finger and sent searing pain through me, down to my toes. It was not the first time it happened either. Being burned is a right of passage in kitchens. No one talks about it much at dinner parties. It's usually, "What is your favorite dish?" or "How do I keep my hollandaise from breaking?" Which are both very good questions.

My favorite dish usually involves some kind of seafood served with sides that aren't creamy and delicious, like polenta or risotto. I prefer pairing rice (but NOT risotto) with my seafood. Forget about cheese. I don't think the two go very well together unless it's a fried fish sandwich on the Gulf Coast. Then cheese is okay. Really I enjoy making sauces most. In regards to the first question about hollandaise, the best way to keep it from breaking is to make it correctly. Keep whisking and don't let the egg yolks scramble.  Add the melted butter while whisking, again be careful not to scramble the yolks.  It is a dance with danger though, because you cannot keep hollandaise refrigerated OR on heat. It will congeal to a gloppy mess if too cold, or break apart if too warm. So you keep it at room temperature and if you are a big fan of Sunday brunches in the early afternoon, you must realize that the hollandaise on your Eggs Benedict might have been sitting out at room temperature since 7 o'clock that morning. Though it seems step heavy, it is a great preparation to try at home while being seduced by world news. Don't worry too much though because most places these days don't even make hollandaise sauce. They buy powder or paste products to which you add water and whisk into fake hollandaise. The amount of chemicals present in those products will ensure a healthy and delicious two o'clock PM Sunday afternoon Eggs Benedict experience.

There is a danger zone with food, mainly protein based, and sitting out for longer than four hours at a stretch. Bacteria loves that environment and often vacations there for reproduction. They migrate over from the mess someone never cleaned up on the floor under the reach in across the kitchen. Where the whipped cream dribbled during a busy rush the night before. No one really thinks about these things because face it, chefs are all conscientious and concerned with public health. Just imagine all those man hours spent just caring about how clean and sanitary the work surfaces are. Even the floor.

There is also no quick cure for being burned.  It's going to hurt like hell for a little while and the only thing you really can do is try to understand the sound that the pain is making in your brain. There are momentary pauses though, like if you put mustard on the burn, or cold water, or in some cases egg whites. Everyone has a cure that they swear works but to this day none has worked for me except trying to understand the sound. And I still can't put my finger on it.

It is a piercing sound, and a throbbing sound. All at once it is red and orange and yellow. The reason they call them warm colors becomes apparent through the sound. It also reminds you of other places that are hurting within you. Forget it if you have a broken heart and you burn your arm. Might as well brand it with a hot poker. Crimson or scarlet. Like sharp and pointy angles of the isosceles through the enigma of goo.

Do not ever, EVER, add a roux to a broken hollandaise because that is just plain wrong. Suck it up and do it all over again. When cooking with hot oil, pay close attention so it does not splash back on your soft and waiting skin. Though the pain is intense, it lasts no longer than it takes for the nerves to calm down. Usually that occurs in the blink of an I. Adding roux to broken sauces is also a staple for professional chefs who don't have time to start over again. Trust them, they have your best interest and health in mind. All the myths about kitchens and alcohol and drug use are completely fabricated. How could one possibly make the best food while cloudy in the head?

Water at one hundred ten degrees, vigorous scrubbing with some form of cleaning agent, during the time it takes to sing the ABC's in your head. This will make your hands clean for touching stuff to put on other people's plates. Next time you are in a public washroom, notice how people briefly run cold water over their hands before initiating the automatic paper towel dispenser. My personal favorite is seeing the chef on television cut the chicken on the cutting board, wipe their hands on a towel, and proceed to assemble that delicious Caesar salad dressing.  Another process of preparation to perfect without it breaking.  One that hopefully does not include Salmonella and offers a nice complement to a bed of chopped romaine lettuce, two grape tomatoes, a handful of croutons, and a filet of blackened salmon.