Sunday, February 25, 2007
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Music To Cook By
None.
I suspect that this meme is really a chance for food bloggers to flaunt their eclectic music tastes. Listening to music while cooking is overrated. Oh, it may be fine if you're doing some quiet and tedious kitchen task, like peeling 20 pounds of potatoes. Once you start sautéing, stir-frying, deglazing or browning, all music is drowned out by the hiss and sizzle of the pan. And what can you possibly hear when running a food processor, blender or KitchenAid? Furthermore: music equipment and greasy, floury hands do not mix.
Allow me to demonstrate that music has no place in the kitchen. I'll explain just why the next 10 tracks my iPod randomly pulls up are totally inappropriate for listening to while cooking.
1. Confutatis, from Mozart's Requiem: Starts quiet, then gets loud, then gets really quiet, and so on. Forget about listening this when dealing with a hot, sizzling pan; you'll miss all the nuances.
2. Like a Friend, Pulp: Actually, this isn't bad if you're chopping vegetables or something.
3. There is a Bed, Marc Almond: Makes one think of sex, get distracted, and burn dinner.
4. I Just Wanted to See You so Bad, Lucinda Williams: See song #2.
5. Too Drunk To Fuck, Nouvelle Vague: Save this for your next cocktail party soundtrack.
6. Dear Prudence, Siouxsie and the Banshees: Ok, this is fun and catchy. Not bad if you're baking.
7. I Spy, Pulp: If Serge Gainsbourg and Oscar Wilde had ever teamed up, they could have written this sharp, malicious little number. Deserves a more careful listen than it would get during dinner prep.
8. Peek a Boo, Siouxsie and the Banshees: Hey, something must be wrong with my iPod's shuffle! This is getting repetitive! An irritating ditty; you don't want to get stuck with greasy hands or something when this comes on.
9. A track by Franz Ferdinand from their first album: More appropriate as a soundtrack to reading the frontman's so-so food writing.
10. Tangled up in Blue, Bob Dylan: Like track 7, deserves a more careful listen than it would when dealing with a hot pan.
I suspect that this meme is really a chance for food bloggers to flaunt their eclectic music tastes. Listening to music while cooking is overrated. Oh, it may be fine if you're doing some quiet and tedious kitchen task, like peeling 20 pounds of potatoes. Once you start sautéing, stir-frying, deglazing or browning, all music is drowned out by the hiss and sizzle of the pan. And what can you possibly hear when running a food processor, blender or KitchenAid? Furthermore: music equipment and greasy, floury hands do not mix.
Allow me to demonstrate that music has no place in the kitchen. I'll explain just why the next 10 tracks my iPod randomly pulls up are totally inappropriate for listening to while cooking.
1. Confutatis, from Mozart's Requiem: Starts quiet, then gets loud, then gets really quiet, and so on. Forget about listening this when dealing with a hot, sizzling pan; you'll miss all the nuances.
2. Like a Friend, Pulp: Actually, this isn't bad if you're chopping vegetables or something.
3. There is a Bed, Marc Almond: Makes one think of sex, get distracted, and burn dinner.
4. I Just Wanted to See You so Bad, Lucinda Williams: See song #2.
5. Too Drunk To Fuck, Nouvelle Vague: Save this for your next cocktail party soundtrack.
6. Dear Prudence, Siouxsie and the Banshees: Ok, this is fun and catchy. Not bad if you're baking.
7. I Spy, Pulp: If Serge Gainsbourg and Oscar Wilde had ever teamed up, they could have written this sharp, malicious little number. Deserves a more careful listen than it would get during dinner prep.
8. Peek a Boo, Siouxsie and the Banshees: Hey, something must be wrong with my iPod's shuffle! This is getting repetitive! An irritating ditty; you don't want to get stuck with greasy hands or something when this comes on.
9. A track by Franz Ferdinand from their first album: More appropriate as a soundtrack to reading the frontman's so-so food writing.
10. Tangled up in Blue, Bob Dylan: Like track 7, deserves a more careful listen than it would when dealing with a hot pan.
Labels:
essays,
Kitchen notes
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)