A Three Part Feast - Part I: Skillets A Go Go

As usual, I arrived late to my cooking lesson with Markus Geisler. In fact, I arrived a full three-quarters of an hour after scheduled - more than my typical 15-20 minutes. Though I told Markus that the reason for my tardiness was due to train delays, the whole truth is that in my rush to make it to the his house on time, I hopped on the R train bound for Manhattan instead of the one headed toward Park Slope. I was embarrassed of my foible and so when Markus opened the door to his Park Slope apartment, I shrugged and said "Those trains! You can't trust them!" Yes, Markus, yes - the ugly truth is that I'm an idiot!!

Markus lead me up the carpeted stairs to his top-floor apartment. The owner of the building has interesting taste - the hallways were carpeted in a plush the color of red-velvet cake and walls hung with pastel prints that reminded me of a cheap hotel room in Florida that I stayed in in the late 1990s. We walked into Markus' flat - a sparce, well decorated, and rather nicely-sized one bedroom - that he shares with his new wife, but long-time partner, Heike, who is a fashion studies professor at Parsons. Markus hung my coat and offered me a glass of wine.

A recent transplant from Germany, Markus, had prepped everything before I arrived in order to maximize the important cooking time. In his sparkling and cramped kitchen, the laminate counter top was occupied by ingredients waiting to be made into the dishes that Markus was about to create; the tomatoes, chopped garlic and onions, arborio rice, soup stock, and vegetables in little were placed in small porcelain bowls and serving dishes were colorful and fresh-looking. As soon as Markus poured me that glass of wine (besides me being late, another constant of these cooking lessons), he lit the burners under three saucepans resting on the stovetop and poured about a tablespoon of olive oil into each.

Dressed comfortably in a grey, long-sleeved t-shirt, fashionable jeans, and Chuck Taylors, Markus - tall and comfortably in his 30s - spoke to me about his expansive and varied career history. As he sliced long pieces of bright green zucchini with a vegetable peeler, he told me about his experiences studying sociology, carpentry, and cooking. His accent was pleasant, not the harsh gutteral of some of my English-speaking German friends, and he was rather soft-spoken - a possible product of his newness to speaking American English.

Markus apologized often for his limited vocabulary while he cooked, but what he considered weak language skills, I considered near bilingualism, and I ensured him that his language abilities were far from weak. "Dude, you've already used bigger words than I've ever heard spoken by say, George Bush." Markus laughed and asked me if I supported Obama. "Don't get me started on McPalin," I said, "I want to keep my appetite."

After the large zucchini that Markus had been slicing was reduced only to its core, he placed eight of the 1/4" pieces of the vegetable into one of the pans with a clove of garlic and a twig of rosemary. He reduced the heat to medium low, and let the food cook undisturbed for several minutes.



Heike came out of the bedroom where I assume she was doing work (she had a constant litany of homework and papers to grade, she later told me) and introduced herself to me. Heike, like Markus, was fashionably dressed and had bright blue eyes that sparkeld when she spoke. "You know Michele?" She asked me, "Yes," I responded "We're work buddies." Michele Amar, who cooked with me previously for this blog had indeed put Markus and I in contact with each other. "Ah, that is right. She was such a delight to have around Parsons - we took lunch together all the time. I was mad at her for leaving!" She poured herself a glass of wine and me a glass of water and sat down at their dining room table.

Markus began working on a tomato confit by placing some minced onion in another pan, and letting it cook until it was translucent. With a pair of tongs, he jostled the cooking zucchini and when it was soft and pliable removed it from the skillet and into a bowl to cool.

"How long have you been cooking?" I asked Markus as he chopped peeled and seeded tomatoes and added them to the pan with the onions along with minced garlic, fresh rosemary and thyme. "Oh, six or seven years... I started in my brothers restaurant, which is, you know, a cool kind of place. It's a great sort of family, artsy place." After Markus had worked for a number of years creating mostly "Mediterranean-inspired, but also kind of German" dishes at that restaurant, he decided to go to cooking school. He told me that that in Germany one has to spend FIVE years in a professional kitchen or apprentice with a chef for three years before they can take a test to receive an official culinary diploma! A much more intensive requirement than in the United States.

To the third and final skillet, Markus added a garlic clove and minced onion and let them cook until the onions were translucent. He added what looked like a cup and a half of arborio rice to the pan and stirred it until it was aromatic and some of the kernals were slightly browned.

So much was happening on the stove that and Markus was so expertly going from dish to dish and chopping and adding ingredients to the pan, I almost lost track of what was happening. Even Markus grew silent as he chopped, stirred, and sauteed.

I at down for a second to look sat my notes and to ensure that I was recording the recipes correctly by repeating the measurements and ingredients aloud to Markus, who corrected me as I went along.

All that, and we hadn't even finished a dish!