But look, "Hutch", when I ask about food, I don't want to read about kilojoules, metabolism, carbohydrates and all that kind of stuff. I don't want to be told about agricultural policies in far away countries, and I certainly don't want pumping full of health and safety in the workplace guidelines, NO. No. Don't you see? FOOD, food is about bringing passion, colour, vibrancy and zealous flavourful excitement into the lives of today's busy musicians. Especially to those who cannot fend for themselves and who, unobserved, enjoy tins of Thomas the Tank Engine pasta shapes. I take a great pride in my work, and it was with deferent joy that I informed ALAN's Editor that I would take a few minutes away from the char-grill to give you a small insight into my world. My guarantee to you is this: after only a few columns of Sheridan's Kitchen, you will be able to cope charmingly and confidently should RUTH ever pop round your house for dinner. I promise you recipes, time-saver tips, etiquette hints, inside information and gossip that may cost me my job. I'll be showing you around the main kitchens, introducing you to some of the staff, and politely requesting that you wear your paper-hats at all times. Welcome. In this, the first Sheridan's Kitchen I'll be touching gently but firmly in a first-date kind of way on some important culinary and moral issues that have arisen during my time as Sheridan. I'm often asked how I create such a relaxed but hardworking environment for my staff where everyone knows their place and never step out of line or there'll be trouble and I mean it. I would say that there are few key ingredients. Firstly music. Cooking without music is like having a bath with someone else's socks on. The choice is, I suppose up to the listener. My staff seem quite fond of Suzanne Vega, Juliana Hatfield, Supergrass, and Chicago. I prefer to stir, bake and boil to the sounds of RUTH, after all, it's more than my job's worth. Remember to have an amplification system that is quite loud. The kitchen is not a quiet place and you must be able to hear your music over the following noises: frying, clanging, talking and boiling. I don't know whether you enjoy trips to the waiting rooms of doctors and dentists as much as I do, but I'm sure you will have given thanks on occasion for the plentiful and varied literature that they invariably provide. Similarly, in my kitchen there is a special shelf full of stuff to read whilst waiting for things to happen. Shunning the standard issue Country Life and Woman's Own magazines, my collection includes "From Minus to Plus The Epic of Christ's Cross" (25 million copies distributed in the UK alone so perhaps you have one too?), the August 1994 edition of Watchtower, and Sainsbury's classic Marscapone and Lime Torte recipe leaflet (from off of the television advertisement, the one where you're expected to dip leaves into chocolate.) Next issue I'll be going over some essential ingredients and tools every kitchen should contain, but what many ordinary people don't seem to realise is that there should be a few items in your larder that you never under any circumstances use or even open. These items, when strategically placed act as ballast and ensure that your food storage area does not suffer from subsidence or childish pranks. Suitable items are these: silverskin pickled onions, wholemeal dried breadcrumbs, raspberry vinegar and a tin of Safeway Madras Shambar hot spicy vegetable curry. All of these items have been deployed successfully in my own larder for nearly seven years now, allowing me to go to sleep at night safe in the knowledge that everything is going to be all right, fine. I hope this has been of some preliminary help to you all. In the following issues I'll be writing out instructions lists (or "recipes") for some of RUTH's favourite meals, such as Sheridan's Special Risotto, and Sheridan's Special Soup. I can't promise that eating this food will enable you to compose and perform eclectic and shuddering power pop, only that it will be quite nice. Until then remember: Fry your onions in a mixture of oil and butter over a low heat until they are soft and translucent. Goodbye.
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