5 Foods That Always Taste Better Made at Restaurants than Made at Home. Always.
|If I hear someone pronounce EVOO i-vuu one more time, I'm going to shoot myself...|
You. Yeah, I know you. Your knife skills are up there with the best line chefs in Orange County. Your knife block costs more than a month of my rent. Every time you watch Top Chef, Chopped, or Iron Chef, you come up with your own dishes, which would totally beat out the competitors. You are the star home chef. I used to be just like you. That is, before I attempted a few ill-advised dishes.
5. French Fries
I once spent an entire afternoon cutting, par-frying and portioning individual servings of French fries. Then, I froze them overnight so ice crystals could form, woke up, fried them super hot and tossed them in salt.
They turned out okay.
So, unless you're prepared to go out, buy a potato slicer so your fries cook evenly, buy a deep fryer so your oil stays hot, and are willing to fry everything twice (once to cook the potato, twice to make it crispy) leave the French fries to the professionals. Your Slap Chop has nothing on a potato press, and if you thought gas was expensive now, try spending up to a gallon of peanut oil each fry session.
|This is what you want..|
Anyone can buy a block of sashimi-grade salmon from the Asian market, slice it and circle it
around some soy sauce, but to impress with sushi, you're going to need to need more types of fish than colors in a Rainbow Roll.
Even if you do manage to make the trip to one of the few scattered fresh fish markets in Orange County, everything still needs to be fileted, sliced, or butterflyed. Then you have to make your own sushi rice (for those uninitiated, that involves rapidly fanning a pot of rice by hand until it cools down). Then you have to fry everything that needs to be fried. Then you have to think about rolling the maki and forming the sushi without everything falling apart.
Your dream sushi dinner might just be better served in a sushi bar.
|and this is what you're going to end up with.|
3. American Barbecue and Homemade Sauce
|Tempting, isn't it?|
Asian barbecue is based around thin cuts of meat marinated with brightly colored flavors. Shit, most Korean and Japanese barbecue places around here are glorified meat delivery services, having you cook your own meal at the table. American Barbecue, however, is the complete opposite.
Don't be fooled: good ribs and brisket are born from hours of smoke that no slow cooker and no amount of liquid smoke can replace. Unless you have your own barbecue pit in your back yard, your meat is only going to end up a shade of what it could be. And even if your protein is up to the challenge, you're going to have to solve the sauce problem. Competent barbecue restaurants spend years and years working on their formulas. The home chef hero? Might as well just bust out the Sweet Baby Ray's.
|Just looking at this picture makes me want to go to lunch.|
Here's a secret that I don't want anybody telling my mom: Her pho is only okay. As great as her Vietnamese cuisine skills may be, there's no way she can out do an all-day simmering restaurant-sized pot of cinnamon, star anise, ginger, cardamom, coriander, clove and cow parts or the restaurant sourced noodles that accompany. Her soup ends up tasting flat and the noodles that she gets at market end up thin and wimpy, many times making you crave pho even more than before. Dinner at home often concludes with lunch at a pho place the next day.
So, do you actually think that you can cook better Vietnamese food than my mother? Really?
1. Any Dessert, Pastry or Bread involving Flakes.
|Pictured: dozens of alternating layers of bread and butter.|
Croissants, danishes, tarts, turnovers, baklava. Flaky things taste wonderful and are tempting to make, but the addictive mouth feel is directly correlated with the amount of work.
If you want flaky, you can go one of two directions. You can freeze your hands being French by layering, folding and rolling butter and dough together at 60 degrees to keep the butter from melting. Or, if you're a little more flexible, you can go Mediterranean and stretch your dough to the thinness you want, brushing butter between each layer.
But, really, you should leave the layers to the bakers because there's no home kitchen I've ever seen that's had the HVAC system or the counter space necessary to do flaky pastry justice. Attempt it and you might actually find yourself being French, starting the battle with great gusto before quickly surrendering.
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