It’s smiling at me…

Marty and I have a running joke about one of the final scenes in the movie A Christmas Story. 

We love this movie and know it by heart, but our favorite line is when Ralphie and his family end up at a Chinese restaurant on Christmas Day after the neighbor’s dogs ate their turkey dinner. 

The family is introduced to Chinese turkey or Peking duck. The waiter serves the duck still with the head on. Ralphie’s mom shrieks and the confused waiter looks at Ralphie’s dad. 

He points to the head and says, “It’s smiling at us.” The waiter understands and whips out a cleaver and whacks off the head. 

Ralphie’s mom shrieks even louder, followed by hysterical laughter. They didn’t tell her this was going to happen in the scene, and this is her honest reaction. Priceless! 

We also have another reference to “It’s smiling…at me.” This is said whenever we see someone with a plumber’s crack. Sorry plumbers, you brought it on yourselves; wear a damn belt, for pity’s sake.

The other night we watched a new Chef’s Table series on Netflix, focusing on pizza. The show’s point is to find the best chefs in the world under specific categories and highlight them and their food, dedicating an episode to each of them. 

When I think of pizza, I think of what my father called pizza joints or pizzerias. The kind of place where you order and pay at the counter, then wait for them to scream out your name. 

The pizza is big, thin, and a gorgeous shade of orange. The toppings were kept simple such as pepperoni, sausage, peppers and onions, anchovies, meatballs, and a veggie or white pie was thrown in for good measure. 

The pizza chefs are people who have thrown caution to the wind and aren’t just making traditional, buffalo chicken, or penne vodka pies. They are making some dope ass pizzas.

These chefs have the belief in using the best, and I mean the best ingredient available to them, found locally and seasonally whenever possible. They use their creativity and skills to create new and exciting pizzas.

Chris Bianco

One of the chefs was a man named Chris Bianco, who relocated to Phoenix, AZ, from the Bronx, NY. Long story short, the chef took everything he learned in the Bronx and elevated it.

He uses only San Marzano tomatoes squeezed by hand. He also uses purified water and mozzarella cheese he makes by hand, a skill he learned when he worked in a deli back in the Bronx.

Herbs and veggies for the pizzas are grown outside the pizzeria. He sources the wheat locally and supports farmers whenever he can.

No reservations, take-out, or delivery. People line up for hours before the pizzeria opens.

I totally get this guy. Then, when he was referring to knowing when his dough was done, he said he could tell when “it’s smiling.”

When I was a beginner cook, I watched TV cooking shows or read articles on dough or pasta made by an old Italian Nonna or grandmother. The interviewer would ask them how they knew when the dough was ready, and they always replied, “When I feel it.” 

My new cook’s brain couldn’t wrap itself around it. What do they mean they can feel it? Through the years, I finally learned what they meant and could feel if my pie crusts and doughs were ready. I was cooking and baking like a Nonna! Yay! 

When we started our spätzle business, the most important thing was consistency. Each batch had to be the same. This is crucial for food manufacturers’ products. People want what they remember from the last time they purchased your product.

When I worked at school as the school lunch director and lunch lady, kids always expected my food to taste the same because they loved it and knew what it tasted like. This is where I learned about consistency.

It was stressful initially to spätzle production, but as I went through the four seasons and all types of temperatures and humidity, I realized, like a baker, that the weather made a huge difference in the feel. 

Some days my spätzle batter is a snap; other days, it gives me a run for my money. I work it until I get the right feel. 

It’s smiling at me! The little brown specs are grated nutmeg.

My “feel” uses a rubber spatula and how the tip drags through the batter. I can tell immediately if it’s too stiff or just right. 

Now, since watching Chef Bianco and his pizza dough, when my batter has the perfect feel, I say, “It’s smiling at me,” and laugh every time. 

If you enjoy cooking or eating out, I recommend The Chef’s Table on Netflix; besides the pizza series, there are others to choose from which are all interesting.

Happy Friday! Again. Shit, time is going by so fast; it’s crazy! Cheers.