For years I’ve had this book on my shelves gath­ering dust: The Pro­fes­sional Chef (7th Edi­tion). It is (or was) the pri­mary text­book pub­lished by the Culi­nary Insti­tute of America. Sev­eral years ago, when my interest in the culi­nary arts bloomed and I briefly toyed with the idea of learning to cook like a pro­fes­sional, I pur­chased this book in the hope of gaining some kitchen insight and knowl­edge. I found nei­ther. Instead, I wound up with a book of recipes that I could not replicate.

Why? Simple. Most of the recipes I wanted to follow called for ingre­di­ents to be mea­sured by weight. And I did not own a kitchen scale.

That changed today. After weeks of my girl­friend repeat­edly telling my that I forgot to pur­chase a scale for our kitchen, she went and did it her­self. The long-awaited appli­ance (if such a large word should be used for such a small device) arrived while I was preparing a simple dinner of beef, bean, corn, and ancho pepper chili.

The first task was to reor­ga­nize the kitchen to create a place of honor for the new instru­ment. The microwave, knocked from it’s perch on our coun­tertop, has been exiled to the space on top of the refrig­er­ator where many lesser kitchen tools are ban­ished. Our old yellow CD player was kicked out of the kitchen entirely. Sur­faces were cleaned and dried. A new order was estab­lished with the toaster, rice cooker, and kitchen scale given highest status.

Years after it’s ini­tial pur­chase, that old dusty copy of The Pro­fes­sional Chef still makes my mouth water as I turn back the cover. Once so for­eign and unat­tain­able, the recipes within are now in my grasp, mere trips to the super­market away. Forget the stocks and sauces. I’m not inter­ested in grilling and frying. I turned to the back of the book where the authors dis­cuss the ancient art of baking. I’m talking about yeast bread, folks. This is the great culi­nary inven­tion of civ­i­liza­tion. Very few things on this earth can pro­vide the kitchen ama­teur with so much frus­tra­tion and yet so much simple joy. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like a good, fresh piece of warm baguette, just cooled – a dish of extra virgin and ground pepper for dip­ping… I can taste it already. But I’m get­ting ahead of myself and not sym­pa­thizing with those people who have a wheat allergy. Sorry folks, but you guys are missing out on one of life’s miracles.

I think my first exper­i­ment this weekend will be a nice pesto focaccia. Basic pesto is made with pine nuts, garlic, olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and fresh basil. What I will likely do is take those ingre­di­ents indi­vid­u­ally and use them as top­pings on fresh focaccia bread. We have fresh basic in the Aerog­a­rden and Parmesan left over from lasagna. Olive oil as part of the focaccia recipe. We’re never without garlic. I just need some pine nuts and I’m good to go.