Curing Part 1: Most Normal People

It all started on Thursday. On Thursday, I met a couple of good friends over dinner. The original intention was to meet up at a Thai restaurant that just opened at the BSC. Unfortunately, it was closed due to a private function and the hostess for the evening, N, managed to get us a spot at Vineria IT.

After several inappropriate jokes of how the restaurant name reminded us of a disease no one would like to have: ‘Vinaaaayria, vinaaaayria,’ N said haplessly.

‘And the IT?’ Eizwan asked.

N had to pause for thought on that one.

‘Probably Italy.’ ‘Not, Information Technology?’

Took us a while to get over the name of the restaurant. Such class. That is what you get when you bring geeks to the table.

I rarely go out to eat Italian food, I cook most of it at home and my favourite Italian restaurant, ahem, is all the way in Johor Bahru, in a little known restaurant called Rosmarino, run by this Italian chef and his lovely wife. Nowhere in Malaysia have I eaten can compare to the homeliness and certainly, tastiness of this restaurant and hence why I never bother to go out and try.

At an Italian restaurant, usually I pick the food that I can’t cook or rarely make at home. This time round, I had my eye on the beef prosciutto.

Everytime you switch on AFC, chefs go on and on about prosciutto and I salivate each time I hear about it, crying a little bit inside knowing full well, I’ll never be able to taste it. And now, here I was this opportunity of trying something similar-ish, beef prosciutto aged 18 months.

When my, unfortunately, very small entrée arrived, I was more than pleased to see the papery thin slices of meat, ruby red. I loved how the meat melted in my mouth and how well it complimented the creamy, rich but not overtly so, Gorgonzola sauce.

At the end of the evening, my mind was abuzz with the thoughts of beef prosciutto. In my mind, I could not wait to taste it again (also in my mind, ways to wreak revenge on the husband for stealing on piece of precious prosciutto) and experiment with it. Would it go well with fruit? Wrapped around various meats?

Most normal people would then sigh to themselves and convince themselves to save up and eat at the same restaurant again. Or ask the restaurant where they can get a slice of the beef themselves. But at RM 32 a plate for 5 measly papery thin pieces, there must be a better way.

I spent the entire night, reading up prosciutto or it’s cousin, the air-dried cured beef bresaola. And then I thought, well, what if, what if, I were to cure my own meats? It can’t be that hard….can it?

Most normal people, as they say.

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