Tonight I watched Gordon Ramsay’s ‘The F Word’ with two friends. Say what you will about Hell’s Kitchen (I don’t know what you’d say actually, because I don’t watch the show so I don’t know the watercooler buzz) but I love ‘The F Word’.
As we dined on freshly made pizza with grilled veggies and goat cheese Gordon cooked up some sea bass with a roasted peppers puree. And then he went head to head in a fig competition. I love figs. I would eat them on a baguette with brie all day long if it were heart healthy. I’ll eat them on anything. Pizza with goat cheese and onion? Done that. Fig chutney and brie wrapped in bacon?Yup. Fig Newton? Yeah. Even that.
Now all I can think about are baked figs with a dollop of creamy goat cheese and a drizzle of honey. Oh god, help me. My mouth is watering and I can’t concentrate on the work in front of me. It’s enough to make me drive to the store and clean them out. Except I don’t think Safeway is open, or quality enough to offer me what I’m craving. Perhaps just some of the leftover chocolate ganache cake instead.