clase de cocinar

Several years ago, Jon gave me a gift certificate to a cooking school in the city, hoping we could take a class together. It was so sweet and we have been meaning to schedule a class...

This year, I decided to flip it around and give it back to him (kicking in the extra cost because obviously the prices had gone up in all this time) for his birthday. He was happy that I used a gift certificate for a change.

We signed up for "Date Night: Two to Tango" at The Chopping Block. We were going to learn how to grill steak, make our own papas fritas (French fries), chimichurri, dulce de leche flan and--the one I knew he'd be most excited about--chicken empanadas. Unfortunately, the class started at 7 and we rolled up at 7:25 thinking we were five minutes early. Whoops.

Jon was parking the car, so I ran upstairs to the kitchen area and stood by a chopping-block island that looked like it had space for two more. There was an ridiculously thin girl with a nasty disposition yelling at her dude, who was glowering over the stove. She looked like she wanted to leave. Both of them saw I was there and turned their backs. Classy.

No one approached me for nearly five minutes. Then Jon appeared, and one of the Chef's helpers took him aside and recommended against joining the antisocial couple, who had decided to stop arguing and were fumbling around trying to catch up.

We moved over to another island, where a very lovely couple close to our age were finishing up their caramel. Chef came over and used their stuff as an example. All we had missed was making the caramel flan top and mixing the pre-measured ingredients. The rest of the class was fun, and the food was yummy! The rude couple even came over to ask some questions because the instructor kept using us an example (the entire rest of the class was made up of people our parents' age who were quite obviously hammered).

I think Jon was trying to look intense. But the empanadas were delicious!

Later as we sat to eat our creations, we discovered the our cooking partners had only been married 29 days, so we showed wedding photos. We warned them that 1-year-old cake really doesn't hold a candle to the wedding-day cake, but they had been smart and ate the top layer after their reception. Apparently our new friends had originally been paired with the antisocial couple, who scrunched up their faces and said "We'd really rather do this by ourselves." Even though we were seated at benches at a table, they both managed to turn their backs to the rest of us by sitting at the corner. They ate their dinner off a single plate, got up and left. 

photos by and Jonathan Muller
 Steak! I wish the fries were crispier, but they were tasty!

We were very lucky to have been partnered with the nice couple--I think it wouldn't have been nearly a nice time with the pair of grumpy pants, who didn't speak to anyone the entire evening. If we do this again, we definitely want to bring friends! And maybe a bottle of wine. 

This is something I will definitely be making again soon!

I didn't forget about the flashback:
3!
In which I celebrate three years since Jon and I discovered each other. That number is now up to 7 (and counting). I'm so glad cooking together doesn't make us fight. Or antisocial.