To: John Hunt who wrote (34029 ) 5/17/1999 8:06:00 AM From: long-gone Respond to of 116825
O/T(except in that as this is now a service economy how many will go out and spend BIG money to eat 1/2 cooked lentils and spam) "I've got the Spam!'' she said. "I can do something with this.'' Y2K cuisine Millennium menu: Spam on wry By Michael Booth Denver Post Staff Writer May 16 - It was a bit like locking up Michelangelo's paintbrushes and handing him one stub of a burnt umber Crayola. Or ripping all the nouns and adjectives from Jane Austen's dictionary. Or telling John Elway to run like a madman, just don't throw the ball. When we asked three of Denver's renowned chefs to come on over and cook us lunch, we had to lay down a few rules. In the spirit of the computer-generated disasters that some predict for the turn of the millennium, these Y2K gourmets could use nothing but cans, jars, cellophane packages and Coleman stoves set up on the porch. No fresh-cut cilantro, no airmailed squid, no saffron threads handpicked by virginal maids on alternate Sundays. We're talking cling peaches, Chicken of the Sea and, when we're feeling truly extravagant, a jar of Skippy. If you believe some of the experts, the chime of midnight on Y2K will put a huge crimp in everybody's style. The power grid will fail, grocery stores will run out of fresh goods - so they say - and suddenly that 2year-old can of refried beans in the cupboard is looking less like a doorstop and more like dinner. By the second week in January, we'll all be sick of tomato soup and Shredded Wheat with powdered milk. To show us the possibilities of potted meat, it was up to Kevin Taylor of Restaurant Kevin Taylor, Palettes and three other cafes; Patricia Perry of Today's Gourmet Highlands Garden; and Sean Kelly of Aubergine. The noon hour arrived with a flurry of snow and a frigid wind. "It's just like camping,'' said the cheerful Perry, who hates camping. "My idea of camping is to put a bottle of wine in a backpack and check into a Downtown hotel.'' In her only prima donna snit of the day, she refused to light the stove. Taylor claims to go camping all the time, when he's not solving a crisis at one of his five cafes. "There was this girl I'd go with, and she'd freak out when we got there because I'd be pulling out the steaks and the Bordeaux,'' Taylor said. "She thought it was all supposed to be freeze-dried.'' While Taylor and Kelly, his old friend and kitchen mate, traded camping stories, Perry slipped in and stole the prize she'd been eyeing since she had passed through the kitchen. "I've got the Spam!'' she said. "I can do something with this.'' Arrayed behind the Spam was a counter full of long shelf-life items recommended by Y2K survival books and the chefs themselves. The books tend to emphasize basics such as rice, dry pasta, tuna, peanut butter, stewed tomatoes and canola oil. The chefs tend to emphasize things you've never heard of and wouldn't recognize if they crawled onto your plate: roasted red peppers in a jar, grape leaves, wasabi powder, cashew butter and tomatillos. We tried to stick with food that could both be purchased from the average neighborhood grocery store and be easily hidden from hungry mobs. This eliminated pickled ginger and a pallet load of Slim Jims, a policy that led to occasional uprisings among the Y2K gourmets. Taylor kept mumbling something about needing canned lime juice for his soup. Get over it, Kevin, we said. It's 2000: The world banking system has collapsed and Pa started burning the furniture a week ago. Lime juice might cost you a tank of diesel and a team of horses.(cont)denverpost.com