Tonight I went to a networking event put on by GenNEXT, a local young professionals group. Now that I am a young professional myself, I have to introduce words like “network” and “shmooze” into my vocabulary.
Anyway, renowned chef Dale Miller, owner of an Albany restaurant by the same name, did a cooking demonstration for us GenNEXTers followed by some shmoozin’ and boozin’ (my term, not theirs).
Yours truly is on antibiotics for a sinus infection so I skipped the booze part of the evening and made some new friends instead. While the conversation was great, the highlight was Dale Miller’s demonstration. It wasn’t anyway mind-blowing; he prepared a simple salmon filet with a miso glaze. But I love watching people cook, food nerd that I am, and he was a quiet yet funny guy. He reminds me a lot of one of my best friends fathers: short, sweet, and wonderfully corny.
The glaze was simple: sake, oil, sugar, miso paste, all simmered together in a pot. We sampled small portions. It was delicious. I’m a little biased though, because I love salmon but never have it unless the Boyfriend cooks it.
I was most surprised to learn that miso applies to our fifth taste. You know the four: sweet, salty, bitter, and sour. Apparently scientists have recently identified a new taste: umami. It could also be called “savoriness.” I’m clearly not a reliable source on the matter, so follow the link for some better information for you. From Wikipedia. Of course.
The following appeal to our umami tastes: miso, mushrooms, ketchup, and cured pork. Go figure.
After the demonstration and before bidding us adieu, Chef Miller left us with one more corny tale. While he was visiting Japan, the tour guide reminded them how important it is to chill out every once in a while and “lerax.” “So tonight, don’t forget to chirr out and lerax,” he instructed us.
Fair enough. Between umami and lerax-ing, tonight was just about the craziest Wednesday night I’ve had in a while. If you’re in the Albany area, check out Dale Miller or the soon-to-be-reopened Sperry’s in Saratoga.
Like Chef Miller, I’m keeping this post short and sweet because it’s sweltering in our office. The Boyfriend insists he did NOT break the ceiling fan when he crashed into it during a victory jump over the U.S. win during the World Cup preliminaries today. But I know better.
