A person always remains an apprentice
Even in the kitchen
(PORTUGUÊS) (NEDERLANDS)
A person always remains an apprentice. At least, I do and in every field. From history, philosophy and yoga to the Grand Prix, knowledge of man and nature and preparing food. Yes, actually, we learn from all the people (from bus driver to our greatest love) we meet in our lives and from all the situations we have unconsciously created in our lives. After all, he who sows will reap.
I sometimes get the impression that the more knowledge I absorb, the less I know. Every time I think I know something, it turns out to be different and a whole new world opens up. And so it happened to me once in the kitchen.
It was in the late nineties. My children had long left home and behind me twenty years of experience in running a household and a full-time job. Part of running the household was preparing food and I considered it a point of rest at the beginning of the evening. A way of relaxing after yet another day.
When I think back now on what I was doing in a day and how much stress was in the air and in me, it seems like a different life. And yet a meal appeared on the table every day. Home delivery did not yet exist and fresh food was still important to me. Later, we also went out to eat regularly and that's how I came into contact with Herman den Blijker who in those years had restaurant De Engel (Michelin star later)in Rotterdam, my husband's city, the city where his business was based and where we both worked. We became friends with Herman and couldn't stop talking about good food.
When we had rented a large holiday home in France for a few weeks, somewhere near Avignon in the country, friends and family came over to catch their breath for a few days and so did Herman. He was happy to cook for us one evening and I was allowed to be his assistant.
In the picture, I am clearly being instructed. I am standing with my hands on my hips, fully poised and ready to go. Fresh fish we went to buy and much more. Then to work in the authentic kitchen of the old French country house.
Herman cooked, talked, joked as always and gave me all kinds of instructions. At my - intensely fast - pace, I immediately cleaned up everything behind him. When the fish was almost ready on the grill, he asked:
Where is that plate?
Which plate?
That plate the fish was on!
Washed off, I said with satisfaction.
Herman almost changed colour and in good Hague/Rotterdam fashion he informed me that I was stupid and that those juices from the marinade were the secret of the whole fish preparation.
Despite not having that one ingredient, we had a delicious meal and it was a wonderful and particularly happy evening.
And that lesson?
I have never forgotten.
Thank you for reading Liesbeth Steur - English. I publish about my life and work in the mountains of Portugal, about yoga as it was originally intended and about issues related to becoming aware of our motivations in life. Subscribe to not miss anything. And you may, of course, express your appreciation with a small monthly contribution of €5.
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Ja leuk verhaal! en leerzaam!