Amuse Bouche. Sounds amusing; no doubt hearing me pronounce is certainly worth a giggle. That token, one-bite taster that precedes even the starter or appetizer, the amuse bouche can be an elegant way to begin a meal. At the finest of restaurants—or newbie boutique restaurants smartly making a notable first impression—a server might put an amuse bouche in front of you. Often unordered, a food-wise nod of unexpected promise from the kitchen, these one-bite samplers are meant to tease the palate of the goodness to come.

Wikepedia defines it best: tiny bite-sized morsels served before the hors d’Å“uvre or first course of a meal. These, often accompanied by a proper complementing wine, are served as an excitement of taste buds to both prepare the guest for the meal and to offer a glimpse into the chef’s approach to cooking.

The word is French, literally translated to “mouth amuser” [for bouche = mouth; amuser = to amuse, to please]. The proper plural form is amuses-bouche.

The amuse-bouche as an identifiable course arose during the Nouvelle Cuisine movement, which emphasized smaller, more intensely flavored courses.^[1] It is distinguished from other kinds of hors d’Å“uvres by three characteristics. It is small, usually just one or two bites. It is the same for all of the guests at the table. And finally, it is not ordered by anyone; rather it is offered free of charge. The functional role of the amuse-bouche could be met by rather simple offerings–a plate of olives or a crock of tapenade. But the course often becomes a showcase for the artistry and showmanship of the chef as well as oneupmanship among restaurants.

I couldn’t resist, Wikepedia defines it so well.

I always find this question an amusing start to a conversation: ‘what reality tv shows do you watch?’ It is curious what different people watch; I confess, our family impatiently waits week after week to watch Top Chef. It is where I learned the definition of amuse bouche. Some of the competitions or challenges of the reality tv show focused on these dainty, yet power-packed pre-starters that quintessentially reflect the style of a given cook… what would be in your amuse bouche?

I have had a few experiences in restaurants where I have been happily surprised with a tiny, edible gift placed so thoughtfully in front of me. At Harvest Vine in Seattle sometime last summer, simple bites—one bite per patron—of lightly steamed then cooled golden beets, cut in perfect rectangular slivers, were drizzled with olive oil and the best Fleur de Sel. Each bite pierced with its own toothpick, these beets made an impression that still lingers a year later.

A more recent example was at Mona’s, a neighborhood restaurant that I frequent. Always divine food; and this once a teaser in the form of a perfectly ripened, farmer’s market cherry tomato gingerly squatting on a chiffonade of arugula and then, dressed with shards of the finest parmesan and the token drizzle of oil and coarse salt. Only one? Ah, the amusing amuse. It packs a punch.

Cherry Tomato Amuse Bouche
1 cherry tomato per person
1 T chopped arugula or basil per person
1 tsp olive oil per person/amuse bouche
scant pinch coarse salt
pinch Parmesan, preferably shaved, per person

Assemble: place pile of arugula on plate, slice off top and bottom 1/8 of tomato (stem and bottom, the latter just so it will stand upright and not roll around). Place tomato on greens, top with Parmesan, drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and serve to an unsuspecting guest or loved one.

I haven’t been cooking.

My counters have seen more windex than watermelon, more lysol wipes than lemons and probably more photos of my ‘charming remodeled kitchen’ than anything sauteed, braised or grilled. My children miss my cooking, my husband is sick of eating out and it is all I can do to not start squirting splatter on my wall from a rapidly bubbling sauce or deliberately dirty my stove top from fresh vegetables being tossed into a ready skillet. So what if my sink is full of dirty dishes; it was a delightful party and worth every drop of wine on the carpet. The crusty oven is really just a mark of a fine chef: the must-see residue of a cook who spends countless hours in this worthy kitchen. Sure, you can show the house in 15 minutes; don’t mind the dishes, or the laundry or the fridge full of leftovers.

It is evident that while I wait for my house to sell, I need to find a balance of cooking in my kitchen while regularly clearing out of the house for the next round of strangers to waltz through. Perhaps messes make it more homey? I never understood what it was like to keep a home so perfect, day after day, meal after meal. And my friends who know me—and they know I am on the anal side of clean when it comes to my home—would laugh at that remark. I thought I kept my house clean, but keeping a house polished and shiny with no sign of human life (no dishes, no laundry, no unmade bed or out of place book, no tossed aside bike or weed in the garden) is genuinely exhausting.

But where food lacks, tables need not go bare. I have been hosting centerpiece of the month (COTM) for many months now, and this month am belated in my roundup. My computer has been as neglected as my kitchen! Despite my chaotic life, the lives and tables of others persevere. Wonderfully colorful, mid-summer [July] centerpieces came from (thanks everyone!):

Meeta from What’s For Lunch Honey?

Myriam from Once Upon a Tart

AND

Shn from Mishmash

Sandi from the Whistlestop

My sons and I were in a store the other day, one full of kitchen and household wares. We were searching for a birthday gift for their grandmother. One of my boys decided he wanted to spend some of his own money to pick and purchase a gift.

We browsed. There were bread baskets and kitchen towels, lemon zesters and delicate vases. He was especially enamored with a salt and pepper shaker and some globe-like candles. But the topper on the cake came later when he had been searching high and low for a perfect gift and beelined over to me to tell me about his quintessential find: ornate cocktail glasses. Anyone else see the humor here? I just started laughing: my 11 year old thinks martini glasses are a good gift idea. Way to go, mom, I think to myself. Nice influence.

So I steered him away from that particular gift option, though I could not hide a smile when thinking of his grandma opening a gift that encourages imbibing. Maybe we should throw in some martini olives for good measure? Fortunately, he settled on a lovely baking dish and kitchen towel to match. She will love them.

I will say this: if he had gotten her those [actually quite stylish] cocktail glasses, I would have considered including the ingredients for this birthday-worthy concoction:

Silky Pear
Simple Syrup
Lemons
Pear Puree or Pear nectar
Knob Creek (Bourbon)

For one cocktail, mix 2 oz Knob Creek, juice of one lemon, 1 oz pear puree, 1/2 oz simple syrup. Shake and chill over ice; strain into martini glass and serve. If you cannot find pear nectar, buy a jar of pears in syrup, take one half of a jarred pear plus an equal amount of syrup and puree in blender. And for the record, those cocktail glasses really were cool.

Oh, and Meeta from What’s for Lunch Honey? had a fabulous idea to host a liquid dream mingling, where folks from around the blogosphere send drink recipes to her. She will list them all after September 10. The Silky Pear was my contribution.