IDEAS IN FOOD

Inspirations

Today I came across a a blog post by one of my favorite fiction writers, Marjorie M Liu, about finding inspiration which links to an article by musician Andrew Bird (I've never experienced his music although I will definitely make it a point to check it out after reading his piece). Inspiration is something that we struggle to find on a daily basis. It rarely arrives in a flash of light or as an explosive discovery. Instead our search is more like fitting together the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. For quite some time you can connect the pieces almost absently, it's more about individual couplings than the whole. At some point you realize that you can see the image that you're chasing. It may be rough and unfinished but it is clearly visible and the remaining pieces almost fall into place.

Well, that is if you're lucky. There is certainly a rush of exultation when an amorphous idea becomes a reality and a surge of adrenaline appears to carry you towards the finish line. In cooking many times those moments are where the real work begin. We often craft individual versions of our ideas first and the real test is recreating them so that they can be reproduced in volume by other hands with no discernible loss of quality. It is a constant challenge and one that we enjoy.

Our path this past year has been a surprising one. Had anyone asked us a year ago where we would be now I'm sure that we would have answered "in a restaurant". Clearly that hasn't happened and instead we have wandered an entirely different and novel path. The cooking classes have been amazing for us. We are constantly inspired by the people who come to our sessions. They question us, challenge us, and teach us new things every day. On the one hand we miss having an audience to cook for every day. On the other hand we have the flexibility to explore all of ideas and share them with others in ways that we might not be able to in a restaurant setting. For today this blog is our inspiration. Our readers are a big part of our motivation. We thank you for visiting us today and any other day you wish to join us. We couldn't do it without you.

Thoughts on Blogging

A big part of being a blogger is a need to be heard. You know that you’ve got something to share and blogging is your venue of choice for communicating that information. The soul of a chef revolves around the desire to feed people. You want to create amazing, delicious food and nurture your diners in whatever style works for you. For some chefs that means creating old fashioned comfort foods, for other that means pushing the envelope and challenging the senses with modern creations. The beauty of our profession is that it makes room for chefs of all different varieties to find their audience. The blogosphere does the same thing for its bloggers. It creates a medium through which people can reach out and find their audience.

Of course every action produces a reaction. They may be positive or negative or somewhere in between, there are always reactions to the things we do. Over on Eggbeater Shuna is talking about whether blogging openly about work can be a positive thing. In her case there were serious ripples and repercussions stirred up by her writing. That happens. Lots of people are driven to shut down their blogs or write anonymously to protect their peace and privacy or that of the people close to them. The creation of parameters is a personal decision, one that is more fluid than most because bloggers can always reconsider and shift directions according to their comfort level.

Creating a blog is insidious. Once you begin it eases itself into other aspects of your life. You begin to look at experiences as blog posts, debating whether something is interesting enough or perhaps too interesting to write about on the site. You discover that the line that you have drawn in sand about what is material for the blog and what is personal begins to blur. You feel as though your readers accept you completely, forgetting that they are only exposed to the small fragment that gets published each day. You are complimented and vilified by turns and you wonder how people find the vitriol to fling at someone they don’t know. Somehow we rarely question the compliments, a quirk of  human nature and our own egos. You remember that you have donned the target of your own accord and remind yourself that when you speak publicly you invite any and all responses. Still, at least in our case, you keep on blogging.

Some days it’s tough to say what you believe. There are moments when omission feels like the greater part of valor. There are always people who will agree unequivocally with what you have to say and those who will disagree completely. You will be alternatively an inspiration and a scapegoat.  You’re going to make big mistakes and accidentally step on lots of toes. You’re going to meet very interesting people and make connections that would never have been possible before you started blogging. You’re going to learn where those lines underneath the shifting sands are actually etched in the stone beneath. Your website will be a tool for self-discovery if you’re open to the process. As we say in the kitchen, it’s all about execution.  If you’re going to blog, do it wholeheartedly and make it your own. Authenticity is more important than polish.

Comments

We do not know if we have ever clarified our policy on comments.  For the record, personal attacks that do not appear to be constructive in any way will not be published.

Sticking My Nose Out

People often ask us how or why we started blogging. At this point I usually must confess that I have a love-hate relationship with the internet.  I love that it is a twenty-four hour resource where I can find a wealth of information at the touch of a keyboard and where I can communicate with people hundreds or thousands of miles away. I can find people that share my interests and make connections with them. On the other hand, the lack of privacy bugs me. As easy as it is to look up information on any subject, I know that people can actually look up information about me. I'm not saying that people want to look me up per se, I'm just saying that they could. Of course I have a website so I'm an easy target. With a blog you never know when someone's going to take random potshots at you just because they can.

On the bright side, we've met amazing people through this site, ones we never would have run into through the course of our day to day lives. In high school my friends and I would settle ourselves on park benches (Union Square was a favorite spot) or on stone steps and watch the passers-by. It was a fascinating pastime, both for the fashion and for the various social interactions. I still love to sit back and observe. There are websites that I adore, places I visit every day who will never know that I've been there. I rarely comment, I don't IM, and I'm not a great correspondent, although I always have good intentions. I'm intrigued by the world although most of the time I like to keep my distance. The world wide web is a good place to express yourself and still maintain the illusion of detachment.

In this same vein of occasional and unreasonable timidity, I'm not fond of large gatherings of people who I don't know. Why? Because I hate introducing myself to strangers. Chefs especially are a funny clique-ish bunch. They are either incredibly warm and friendly or polite and utterly disinterested. A few stilted conversations and awkward handshakes and I'm ready to run for the hills. On the other hand, I love when people come up and introduce themselves to me. The idea that people are interested enough in what we're doing to want to say hello is an awesome one.  It makes me smile every time it happens. It also makes it easier to chat because I know there's a common thread to follow. Often one thing leads to two or three and a conversation is born.

Last month Alex and I were invited to the launch party for Gourmet.com.  We had a little trouble when we called the number to RSVP. The first woman couldn't find us on the list and transferred us to another woman, who repeatedly asked us if we were sure that we had been invited because it was an extremely small venue and she had never heard of us. Alex assured her that he was looking at an invitation that had arrived in the mail. She was unconvinced. Finally a light bulb went off when she asked us if we were blog. Well, we aren't but we do have one. She found us on the other list.  We shrugged it off and besides, she had piqued our curiosity. Exactly who was going to be at this party? Predictably we (more like she)  hardly recognized any of the faces and it wasn't until afterwards when we read the various recaps around the web that we discovered who was actually there. We were at that elusive crossroads between being unknown enough to actually observe and enjoy the show and familiar enough to make some connections and not feel like wallflowers. For me it was the perfect position to be in. I truly enjoyed myself. I realized afterwards that we hadn't stepped up and introduced ourselves to anyone at all.  Perhaps it was a missed opportunity. On the other hand, the lack of pressure actually allowed me to enjoy myself, at a party. Miracles do happen and that particular adventure was a direct result of what we do here.

Blogging is an interesting journey. In the beginning the goal was simply to occupy ourselves and keep from going insane out in Colorado. Along the way it became something more than an exercise in motivation. It became a way of communicating and a method for sharing ideas and learning more about food and about ourselves. The site absolutely has allowed us to get in contact with other chefs and foodies that we might not otherwise have had the confidence to approach. It's opened doors for us and given us opportunities that may not have come our way.

Recently we had some cooks in one of our classes who were talking to us about isolation, a topic that we are intimately familiar with. They said that our blog helped them feel connected to other cooks around the country. It was huge compliment and one of the best ones we've ever gotten. I realized afterwards that those sentiments were exactly why we blog. Because when we began this we were those cooks who felt as though they were missing out on what was really going on in the food world, beyond the television shows and glossy magazine pages. Some days we're still looking for that connection ourselves. Some days we get to be the connection. It's a small thing that makes all the effort we put into this feel worthwhile. That's why we created this website and that's why we still feel as passionate about it today as we did on the first day we began.

Opinions

One of the great things about this website is the exchange of ideas. We throw concepts out with our spin on them and invariably they come back to us with entirely new slants and shadings from the different perspectives of our readers. We love that.  We firmly believe that the only way cooking, or any process for that matter, can evolve is by asking questions and challenging ideas. There is always room to grow, to learn more, to make mistakes, and to try again. Lord knows we've made plenty of mistakes in the past and will make many more before we're done.  Success is a wonderful and often times elusive goal. In our experience there is as much to be gained from the process as there is from those brief moments of completion.

Every chef is out there trying to express their idea of the perfect meal. This meal changes daily or hourly depending on the chef. All we have to guide us is our vision and the input of our cooks and diners. We do our best to listen and to adapt and to be open to the opinions of others.  Let me be clear here, we are open to the opinions of other people and they will often influence the way we look at a particular situation or idea. This does not mean we are always going to change our opinions. After all, we don't even agree on everything. Now sometimes it can take us an hour or a day or two to digest a conversation or email and to extract the salient points without being unduly influenced by our egos or that of the speaker/sender.  I do find it interesting when people have only one side of a story or situation and choose to draw their own conclusions without bothering to investigate the full story, and then expect their opinion to carry weight. I am sure we've been guilty of it ourselves and it begs the question of why. What are we trying to accomplish with that approach and why have we chosen to be one-sided? It's always important to get your facts straight before you weigh in. We do our best to assume that in most cases constructive criticism is intended and to view the dialogue in that light. In any case, accepting someone else's opinion does not mean that you have to embrace it or make it your own. It simply means that you understand what a person is saying to you and acknowledge their thoughts and their wish to share them with you. Sometimes though, the approach makes a real conversation impossible. Please do share your thoughts with us and please don't expect us to  to always agree with you. A conversation is much more interesting when all parties are allowed to have their own opinions.

*As for the picture, that is a pumpkin-white chocolate cheesecake with spiced apricot strips, a dessert which produced a vast number of opinions, for better and for worse.

Progress

Construction, even if it is in the basement, is insidious. Dust somehow blows through the cracks and make it's way all the way up the second floor each and every day that there is work being done. We're making progress on the flood repairs. As these things tend to happen, once they opened up the walls to replace the paneling, new problems arose and there were complications. A job that was meant to be done in two weekends is now going on four weeks.  Thankfully progress is being made and the work is solid. Although two cooking classes have been sacrificed to the work being done, come hell or high water, we'll be ready for the hydrocolloid classes this weekend. Which is not to say that the construction will be done, just that we'll be able to move a good percentage of stuff from the basement back down there, thus freeing up the space necessary to hold the actual classes. Sometimes the closer you get to the finish line, the harder it is to maintain your focus and stay on your game. Once you get there though, it'll all be worth it.

About Food

Lately I'm sensing a trend that is slowly coalescing around us. People are starting to associate us with a narrow focus on scientific ingredients and techniques. This particular pigeonhole has surrounded us several times in the last few weeks and I'd like to take a moment to clarify our approach to cooking. I'm the first to admit that we like to experiment and to play in the kitchen. It's the backbone of our philosophy, creativity in the kitchen. There is an underlying foundation to our improvisational outlook and that is the quest to create amazing food. Food that excites the palate and the eye, that teases the senses and makes you want to come back for yet another bite.  Food that leaves you staring at an empty plate wishing for just a bit more. This cuisine can be innovative and modern, it can also be creative and very rustic. It depends upon the ingredients available, our mood, our guests, the season, the weather, and a myriad range of ever-changing variables too fleeting to detail here.

We love the range of new ideas and ingredients that constantly pass through our horizon. Like many chefs we use them to improve our food and calibrate textures and flavors to our specifications. Never forget that they are a means to an end and not the reason for cooking. There are many chefs who use them to spectacular effect because they suit their individual styles. Things like sous vide cookery, transglutaminase, and hydrocolloids can be found in a surprising number of kitchens, where they play a supporting role and are simply used to help focus that particular chef's personal vision of their food.

For whatever reason science in the kitchen  is now either revered of villified, according to personal philosophies. Instead it should simply be acknowledged and accepted as useful information for any kitchen. New ideas, cooking methods and ingredients are simply building blocks to help us understand how things happen and to improve our culinary abilities. They are not a world unto themselves.

As chefs, we should not underestimate how much we can learn by asking questions and trying new things, nor should we feel obligated to focus solely on the cutting edge. Our points of view are ever-evolving as is our culinary style. Science is an important part of what we do, although it's not everything. There is great pleasure to be found in simplicity and science can help us to achieve that. In the end it comes down to flavor, texture and presentation. It comes down to beauty on the plate that will be pure enough to last from the moment you smell it coming towards you to the lingering effects of satisfaction and comfort at the end of your meal. That's our philosophy and that's what we strive for with every dish we create.

The Art of Perspective

Sometimes we forget that everyone has different opinions about almost everything. The differences may be clearly defined, my favorite color is blue, Alex's is green, or they may be much more subtle, he likes his steak to be rare, while I like it somewhere between rare and medium rare. In the first instance, although we may both like blue and green, there is a clear delineation between how much we like each hue and how often we will choose that color when given the option to express a preference. In the second case, the differences are very slight, so much so that our steaks are almost interchangeable, although there are subtle differences which will affect our enjoyment of the different taste and texture sensations of the beef.

This past week we ate pizza pebbles at WD-50 and an experience that resulted from this was illuminating. Basically when you place these pebbles on your tongue and begin to chew, they crumble on your palate. You've probably scooped up your pebble with a bit of pepperoni puree and your entire mouth is coated with an intense burst of pizza flavor in two textures. The effect is slightly astringent, so that at first your mouth goes slightly dry, amplifying the effects, and then as you continue to chew, the grainy texture combines with the saliva in your mouth to create a smooth emulsion, which easily slides down your throat, leaving a lingering pizza finish behind. The experience is very intense, and for those of us who love pizza, as I do, it can be very pleasurable. The flavor took me back to my childhood, where my favorite treats were frozen Celeste Cheese pizzas and these little frozen treats that I remember as pizza bites, which were basically small pastries filled with sauce and cheese that exploded in your mouth, a sensation that was duplicated in a very different way by these pebbles.

Not everyone appreciated them as much as I did. The person sitting next to me (who was not Alex), seemed slightly confused. "They taste like Combos" he said, in way that clearly conveyed that Combos were not his favorite childhood snack. Interestingly, in a later conversation with Wylie about the pizza pebbles (which he demonstrated by video at the conference), he made the exact same reference. "They taste just like Combos." he enthused. Clearly, he enjoyed those cheese filled pretzel snacks. And upon reflection, they really do taste like Combos because the outer pretzel coating had the same slightly astringent effect on the cheesy filling as his pebbles did. The tough thing about expressing yourself is that even when people get exactly what you're going for, there's no guarantee that the experience will touch them in the same way that it excites you.

We all work hard in or kitchens, whether professional or amateur, and I'm sure we've all had moments where we've wondered how people could dislike something that we've produced and feel passionate about. Sometimes we make mistakes. Sometimes people don't understand what we're going for. And sometimes, they get it completely and just don't like it anyway. A thick skin is almost mandatory in this profession. Calluses are our friends. No matter how open to constructive criticism we must be, in the end, if you love what you're cooking, then you can never be sorry that it's on your menu or your plate.

Where I Stand

Much like people, businesses have their own personalities. They tend to reflect the philosophies of those at the the top and can range from very tightly regimented and organized, to the loose and carefree. There are successful examples of the full spectrum of management styles and as the world evolves many new styles are appearing almost daily. Our generation is witnessing a full scale change in the way people view the work environment and their own work ethic. Our peers saw an increase in self-owned businesses and entrepreneurship. We grew up in the hey-day of the IPOs and absorbed the concept that smart choices, sacrifice, and hard work, in that order, will earn you millions of dollars if you're willing to pay the price. These days most of us aren't willing to sacrifice everything to the almighty dollar, although the option still exists. We learned that school is not always the answer and that student loans eventually have to be paid off, no matter what your real world salary turns out to be. The last ten years have shown us that credit is so important.  Credit card debt has been the downfall of more than one acquaintance over the years. We saw that you can't have it all, no matter what people tell you.  If you spend all of your time at work your family life will suffer whether you're willing to acknowledge it or not. All those years without sick days or vacations or personal health days will never come back. So they had better be worth it.

We are very lucky in that we were exposed to both the old school style of hard work and hard knocks and the newer so-called "Me Generation". We saw what happened when people slaved away for years and then watched their pensions evaporate in a plume of embezzlement and bad management. In the culinary world we have seen the transition from a system of apprenticeship to a much shorter system of schooling. The debate rages on endlessly as to which system produces the better cooks. We still believe it's not the system, it's the individual. The cream always rises no matter where you leave it to set. We do our best to evaluate a chef on his or her talents and execution, rather than on their pedigree and PR. Almost certainly unconscious preconceptions and partialities color our views, and we do our best to judge on actual merit whenever possible. The older we get the more we understand how important our own life experiences have been in shaping our own culinary efforts.

Recently I've been working through some issues with management styles. I've been asking a lot of questions that aren't always appreciated. This is not because I don't understand what is being asked of me. I ask questions because I want to understand why I am asked to do things that I may not comprehend fully or agree with. Truthfully this is not always a positive characteristic in an employee and I can try to be more sensitive to that. I've been blessed to work for a series of businesses that never minded my asking why, because my understanding allowed me to do my job more appropriately and more efficiently. I can fulfill my duties better if I understand the reason behind a request because that will tell me what the real priorities are. Sometimes a job description includes everything except polishing door knobs and there's no way to know which tasks are the important ones until you dive in. Sometimes a job is more than what's listed in the job description. Sometimes it's not. Life is a lot easier when you know exactly where you stand.

The Pursuit of Power

Kitchens are tight spaces where people work closely together. The hours are long and you are forced to become close to those you work with. Sometimes, too close. There's a certain amount of machismo in many kitchens. The attitude, which was rather famously and accurately depicted in Kitchen Confidential, tends to be one of toughen up or get out, for better or for worse. We've all worked in these kinds of places (kitchens or not) at one time or another. Thankfully these types of workplaces are on the wane and most modern businesses are much more user-friendly to both male and female employees. Still the mentality of needing to be tough to survive, especially in this business prevails. It's can be hard physical labor.  It demands mental agility and stamina to make it through the long, busy hours of prep and service. It can break down spirits and it can make people stronger. As in any profession, the key is picking the right situation to help you grow and move farther along your desired path to becoming a Chef.

Some times it can be hard to determine what actually constitutes harassment. Women are often accused of being too sensitive to the bawdy conversations and harsh attitudes that can prevail in the heat of a kitchen. Friendliness is often misconstrued as sexual intent. That type if situation can go both ways. Friends will stand close and whisper or sling a casual arm around another person's shoulder.  That's perceived as a reasonable or even a welcome action. Someone else will see this happening and think that they can do the same thing. If you're not as close to that second person, the same actions may not be acceptable, but it's hard to explain the difference in your response. Small issues morph quickly in tight quarters and so people are extra careful, either to not step on toes or to stomp extra hard with a big "just kidding smile", according to their natures.

When things like this happen, male or female, you are left with a dilemma. How to respond to the unwelcome invasion of your personal space? I'm very fortunate in that I am married and I do work with my husband, so advances are rare. When I was younger, this was not always the case. In many situations I would be repulsed by subtle body brushes, suggestive comments, or outright overtures. It was always difficult to decide how to respond. In those close conditions, making an enemy can make the workday seem interminable. There are many subtle forms of sabotage that can be employed to slowly hound someone out of the kitchen. It never seemed in my best interests to come forward and make a big deal out of these situations. It always seemed as though it would just make things worse. Silent suffering seemed to be the way to go.

I was saddened to realize recently that things haven't changed very much. People, men and women, are still hesitant to come forward when they feel that subtle pressure from someone they work with. The smartest offenders are careful not to cross those invisible lines or do anything concrete that one can point a finger at. Interestingly, as i grew older I realized that this type of subtle aggression is simply about power. It's the way that certain people have learned to maneuver to get what they want. Although it may manifest itself as sexual harassment, it's not about any physical chemistry. It's about domination. It's about someone trying to use you to get what they want.

Over the years I've grown less afraid to challenge people. I'm learning to stand up for myself and defend my personal space and my right to be. Still, when I see situations unfolding or hear stories, I can relate to them. I understand that feeling of frustration and helplessness, that desire to lash out and define boundaries, and the fear that the repercussions will be worse than the suffering that you're currently undergoing. Today I say fight back. I say stand your ground.  I say define your boundaries and own your space. It won't e easy, in fact it will probably be incredibly difficult to do. Still, I believe it's better to suffer for  your right to be, than to suffer because you're afraid to be. People shouldn't be able to gain their power at your expense. It's important to remember that you have power of your own.

How to Defuse a Flash in the Pan?

Years ago, at the restaurant where I met Alex, there was this other cook named N. N had been working there for a couple of months before I began and he seemed to flit in and out of the kitchen. I didn't even realize that he was supposed to be a full time cook in the beginning because he wasn't around very much.  He usually worked the middle spot on the line, supporting Grill and Saute. He seemed to operate on this special plane that I simply couldn't comprehend, one with many days off and seemingly few responsibilities. There were rumors that he got the job as a favor to someone or another. He seemed somewhat clumsy but I was too caught up in learning my own station to pay him much attention. That is until a couple of months later when he started working garde manger.

At this particular restaurant, garde manger produced the cold apps and cold garnishes, and plated all of the desserts. It was a two person station in a small area and the partner cooks needed to work together well. N. was a slightly heavy set Nordic type, blond, blue eyed and well over six feet tall. He tended to move slowly and own the space where he was standing. On the nights we worked together I would have to do laps around our station to get to mise en place because I could run around the table faster than he would move to get out of my way. There were moments when we found common ground and could share a smile or a brief conversation. Most of the time though we made quite a pair, the small Asian woman and the large Nordic male snapping and snarling at each other all evening long. I thought he was sloppy and lazy and slow, he probably thought I was a bossy, know it all bitch. We were stuck in this spinning canoe unable to  to synchronize our paddles.

My perception was that he had more experience than I did, because he normally worked on the line. I couldn't understand why he moved so slowly and seemed so disorganized.  Even our plates reflected our differences. My plates tended to be much tighter and daintier than his. We quickly realized that we would have to divide up tables rather than plates because otherwise the discrepancies would be glaring. Yet somehow Chef never pointed out the differences. He would comment on our plates individually. He would occasionally tell us to shut the hell up and stop fighting, although he never  said a word (that I know of) to either of us about the fact that our plating styles were so different. This only fueled my fire because how could we figure out who was doing it correctly if Chef never  commented either way? Whenever I worked with any of the other guys our plates tended to match up much more closely. Eventually N. was moved off garde manger and soon after that he left the kitchen entirely.

Recently I was reminded of this old partnership. I've been witnessing something similar, although not exactly the same.  It brings back all of those unpleasant memories. We all want to get along with the people we work with and it's just not always possible. There are many skaters in the world. They build themselves up by telling everyone how much work they do while close inspection shows the water flowing in through the holes in their canoes. We've all worked with these kinds of people, whether it be in kitchens or out. We've all silently cursed as we cleaned up their messes or bailed out their canoes, while they earnestly explained all of their hard work to whoever happens to be in charge. Often their propaganda is believed, at least in the beginning. All you want to do is shine a spotlight to expose the rickety structure behind their extravagant showpieces.  There's no way to do so gracefully. You just have to wait for things to crumble on their own. Or not. I feel that I've been singularly unhelpful lately, trying to counsel someone on how to deal with this kind of situation. I just didn't have any good answers. So I'm appealing to all of you, any advice out there for dealing with Grand Masters of the flash in the pan? Has anyone ever resolved a situation with someone like this successfully? Any and all responses will be greatly appreciated.

Week One in Montana

I can hardly believe that as I write this we've been here for exactly one week. It seems like we been here for eons, as so much has happened in such a short time. Lately we've been talking a lot about food and it's effects as we helped set up the employee kitchen with Ben and Lorraine. The idea is to feed nourishing, tasty food to the staff while keeping in mind seasonality and frugality. What this means is that many of the people we are feeding work outside, tending to people, animals and the earth itself. In many cases this involves hard physical labor and so we want to nourish them and set them up for the afternoon's work. There are no siesta's here on the ranch. So, producing tasty belly bombs that will have people feeling leaden and sleepy half an hour after lunch is not in the plan. As the temperature increases we know that appetites will plummet, although calories and nutrients will be even more important to keep people going through their day. So we're talking about cold salads (both vegetable and grain based), lots of fruits and vegetables, leaner proteins and many variations on Gatorade style drinks and iced tea. Part of the trick is layering the menus so that people don't feel as though their always eating leftovers and still avoiding waste. We are in a remote location so there are minimums to be met and deliveries are only once a week. We want the meals to be fresh and diverse so that people are excited about coming in to eat. It will need a bit of ingenuity and flexibility, two talents that will serve the kids well anywhere else they may go in the future.

In spite of the fact that we will all be working hard, the cabin style accommodations and the rec hall dining make it feel like summer camp for adults. The lower kitchen is lucky in that they will be serving the same core group of people all season. This will allow them to get to know their audience and really cook to their tastes. In a place that can be far from home, mealtimes are often so much more than food. Over the past week as people have arrived and the group has grown, dining periods have grown louder and smiles have bloomed more often. People are slowly starting to relax and build relationships. Meals are their time to re-charge their batteries in the midst of a busy day. It's important to remember that while you're cooking. The staff may never know how much care and thought has gone into the preparation of their meals, and that's perfectly okay. They just have to enjoy their food. In this situation the dining hall is the home base, the chefs are  nurturers and a good time should be had by all. We're very lucky in that we have a great team so far. I'm feeling very confident that Ben and Lorraine will be able to shoulder their responsibilities well.  I think it will be a real growth period for both of them and that their cooking skills and confidence will blossom in these green Montana hills.

Our kitchen? We actually haven't spent much time up there these last few days. We've been taking the opportunity to help streamline things down below and we'll move our focus to the lodge as the time for guests grows near. We're not really serving anyone until next week and even then the numbers are low in the beginning. For now the action is in the employee kitchen because that's where the people are. Because it's just fun to cook regardless of what we're cooking or who the audience is. When it comes down to it, we just like to play in the kitchen.

Rain

It's still raining. To some extent this has been a good thing. We've roasted chickens, savored good cheese with crusty bread and wine, and even made some old fashioned "gravy" slow cooked with country style pork ribs and poured over rigatoni. There has been fabulous chewy, butter drenched slices of toast and little chocolates from Jacques Torres (the milk chocolate dipped pretzels are so decadent and buttery), many cups of tea and a roaring fire in the fire place. We've caught up on our reading and cleaned the house from top to bottom. Patty has splashed through puddles and the cats curl up happily, purring in time to the drumbeat of the water hitting the roof. It's been a rather enjoyable couple of days. And now, now I'm ready for a little sunshine. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for tomorrow.

Feeling Good About Food

All of us, especially chefs, have such complicated relationships with food. I shared a meal recently with someone I love, a close friend. She purchased the meal, picked things that she thought I would like, things she liked and things for both of us.  There was generous bounty of food. She anticipated the meal and went to some trouble to make sure that it would be pleasurable for both of us. We ate and talked and laughed.

It was good meal and as always I finished before her. Those of you in the business probably understand that eating slowly is not an easy thing to do. Eating quickly becomes an unconscious habit that is very hard to break. Anyway, I was content to relax and chat while she finished her meal. When she realized that I was no longer eating, she looked over at me and said "Is that all you're going to eat?" Now I had eaten well by anyone's standards, a couple of fried soft shell crabs, a good sized potato croquette, a generous helping of sauteed spinach, a small taste of shrimp salad, a few olives and a rather large roll.  I don't think she intended to make me feel bad. Under her words was threaded the clear implication that I had not eaten enough. I had not appreciated enough. The guilt broke over me like wave. The people-pleaser in my head forced me to eat more until I felt sick and stuffed and suddenly angry at the manipulation. I had been full and now I was slightly nauseous. I  eat more often than she does and less at each sitting.  There's nothing wrong with that.  The fact that she had engineered dinner did not mean that I had to force myself to eat as much as she did.

So afterwards, as nicely as I could which was probably not nicely enough, I asked that she not do that anymore. That she let me enjoy my meal without implying that I need to eat more. It happens periodically, the comments about my consumption or lack thereof. I wanted it to stop so that I could enjoy meals with her comfortably and without guilt. She apparently did not even realize what she had said and became upset at the idea that I felt pressured to eat. Her response was to eat more herself. It filled me with incredible sadness. Once again I felt bad because she didn't need to eat those cookies. I doubt she even tasted them. She ate them out of some sort of grief that I could not fathom or ease. The only evidence of it was there in the crumbs on the table.

Here in America eating can be such a complicated thing. It's not just about the enjoyment of a meal. Somehow dining became part of the definition of who we are and our stature in society. The restaurants we go to and our ability to get reservations differentiate us from the crowd. We are judged by our appearances in different situations each day and our weight is a huge part of that. Our attitudes toward food are hardly ever lax, we're either eaters or diners. We're home cooks and gourmands. We're health food addicts and junk food lovers. We're carnivores and vegetarians. We define ourselves by the way we eat.   

I suppose my wish for today is that people could relax a bit and enjoy their food. Because I eat quickly I always stop before I'm done so that my brain can catch up with my stomach and figure out that I'm full. When I don't remember to do that I pay the price in discomfort.  I remember the days when I had more time and ate more slowly. Whenever possible I still savor the pleasure of a relaxed meal with equal parts food, drink and conversation.  It can be such a wonderful indulgence regardless of what kind of food is being served. And yet, there's always someone with their plate half-hidden by a napkin, quietly eating their food in relative silence and unhappiness. They may be the life of the party at various moments and they may claim to foodies or gourmands. Yet somehow when food is in front of them there is a shadow that won't go away.

One of the things we've changed over the years is the way that we cook. Back in the day and even now, we often hear the phrase "fat is flavor". That's baloney. Flavor is flavor and fat is fat. In some cases I've actually found that fat can mask flavors and keep them from being clear and true. I think that we can create great meals that have people pushing back from the table feeling satisfied and comfortable instead of bloated and overwhelmed. It's an evolving process and one that I regard very seriously. It's taken years to get Alex to work with me on this, he just looked at food differently. We're working together now. I want people who come to my table to feel good about eating. I want them to have an amazing meal that makes them happy. I can't solve other people's problems with food. I can't edit the baggage they bring to the table. What I can try to do is make things a little bit easier and a lot more delicious, for all of us.

A Few Basic Guidelines

I'd like to address a couple of issues that arose from a recent post. Actually I would like to clarify our approach to eating out, learning from other chefs and what we actually write about here. In the past we've written about our experiences in restaurants. Although I tried to make note of the fact that these were observations from one-time visits, the reactions to many of the things that we, mostly I, wrote were inflammatory. Several of them didn't make it onto the blog, as they came in the form of calls or emails. Oddly even on posts that were clearly written by me, Alex got the most grief about what was said. For some reason people think that Alex and I have the same opinions about everything. Now clearly we agree on many issues, though anyone who is married or in a serious relationship will tell you that no one agrees on everything. Frankly we hardly ever agree on a basic cooking method for a particular piece of meat of fish, much less on a reaction an entire experience at a restaurant. Anyway, after the responses we got last year I reconsidered my approach to writing about restaurant experiences. Only a fool completely ignores their critics.

Actually I didn't realize how many people actually read this site until I saw how upset people were by my posts. I'm not a stat-counter type of person. I can write more freely if I imagine that I'm writing just for myself. I try not to think too much about who else might be reading. That is not always a good thing. I'm very much a "live in the moment" kind of person. I do something and then I forget it. It's one of the things that drives Alex crazy about my cooking. I'll get fixated on an idea, figure it out, and then put it completely out of my head. If Alex asks me to recreate something months later I often won't remember what he's talking about. If I don't write it down at the moment I figure it out, it's gone. If I don't write about a place as soon as I've experienced it, the salient details slowly fade. Once I do write something down I forget it even more quickly because I have written it down and there's no need to remember it. Although I'm exaggerating a little bit, for the most part this really is the way my brain works.

Alex has a much more detailed memory than I do. He can remember exact dishes from meals we've eaten ten or more years ago. It's actually pretty amazing. He doesn't like to write about his experiences outside the kitchen because he almost always gets in trouble when he does.  Somehow even when he thinks he's being completely complimentary, he's always a little too honest and ends up getting chewed out. His inner editor is a bit lax. So for the most part, he tries not to say too much about about other people's food in public forums. I understand where he's coming from. I just think that we learn so much from experiencing other people's food and restaurants that I can't not write about it.

Years ago, I read Jay Jacobs book A Glutton For Punishment, Confessions of a Mercenary Eater. In the book he talks about his time as a restaurant critic for Gourmet and the fact that he was only allowed to write positive reviews. He considered this a scandalous practice and so did I. Especially since he did visit the restaurants multiple times.  If a restaurant is bad on several different visits over a period of weeks then it is probably a bad restaurant. On the other hand, if you only visit a place once and have a negative experience, there is a good chance that you simply caught them on a bad day. We all know how one person's bad day, especially if it's a key person in the organization, can snowball into a bad day for the entire establishment. Some days are simply crazy and things go wrong from the moment you wake up and all you can do is hang on to your sense of humor and make it through. No one would ever want to be assessed on day like that. It's so much harder to create an outstanding experience than it is to create a unfavorable one.  So I decided to stop talking specifically about the negative ones. I'm not saying that bad things don't happen and that we won't mention them.  We probably won't say where a adverse experience happened because it probably won't be relevant to the conversation. We're not restaurant critics, we're consumers who are there to learn and to experience. The conversation will be about what I or what we learned from the experience, not about who did what, when and how. Good experiences, like the ones we had recently at Lupa, Momofuku and Ssam Bar will be mentioned because they are worth mentioning. Sometimes we have mixed experiences, like the one last Saturday. We have meals that encompass the not so great and the extraordinary all in one sitting. In those cases again, we probably won't mention any names because we want to see where the Chef and the establishment will go. Because we believe that a flash of genius will probably develop into something more, given the time and space to grow. But we'll mention elements or experiences because they inspire us and lead us further down the path to culinary evolution.

Those are the guidelines. We all know there will be exceptions to the general rules.  I would also like to note, because it's come up, that just because we haven't written about a place doesn't mean we didn't enjoy it. Sometimes we need time to  mull things over, sometimes things come up and sometimes we just don't write about an experience. Ssam Bar being a case in point, we had an exceptional meal there last week and never mentioned it until now.  With all of the things we do, in and out of the kitchen, there isn't always time to  write about everything.

Lastly I'd like to make a point about learning. As children we all learn through imitation. We all study our trade and read cookbooks and share techniques. It's nothing to be ashamed of or to look down on. We've all head the the adage that if you give five chefs the same recipe you'll end up with five different results. I believe that's true. For every famous or unknown chef with signature dishes, except perhaps Adria and even his inspirations had to have come from somewhere, anyone willing to do a bit of detective work can trace those dishes back to another chef. It's not about where the dish comes from, it's about the execution in it's latest incarnation. In that controversial post I used the phrase "too reminiscent of others that came before" and I want to clarify that. There's nothing wrong with doing something like another dish that has come before.  It's just that if you are going to riff of a well-known creation it has to be better than the original and it has to speak to your own muse. If your dish simply reminds people of the original version without garnering an appreciation for your unique interpretation, then there's no point in calling it your own. We may not always appreciate or even respect that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Upon reflection though, it is the truth. 

Now and Then, Today and Tomorrow

Recently we visited a relatively new restaurant for the sole purpose of checking out the desserts. The pastry chef is young and has received a lot of press and we were curious. Our dessert excursion was paired with dinner at another restaurant that has been in the press recently. The evening was thought provoking in the extreme. The food at dinner was good, tasty but not what we were expecting from the hype.  Dessert was intriguing and contained a few great elements, but again was not at the level we were anticipating. I think one of the reasons for that may be youth.

Food, especially in major metropolitan areas, has become vastly more competitive in the last ten years. The press is constantly looking for th next big things. Trends come and go in a flash and Chefs and Pastry Chefs are ever younger and more eclectic and experimental in their approach to food. There's nothing wrong with that. It's how food evolves over time. What has changed is how quickly these young chefs move up the ladder and into the spotlight. Although their food may be fresh and exciting in many ways, it is often unfinished. The maturity that comes with years in the kitchen has not evolved yet. So while the food may be very good, it is still just a whisper of what it may become given a bit of TLC and time to germinate.

Admittedly as a young cook I would have regarded the previous statement as blasphemy. When we are just starting out we all want to be in the spotlight and in charge as quickly as possible. Alex and I were no exceptions to that particular rule. My views have altered over the years, I know that the food coming out of our kitchen today is worlds away from what we offered when we were first starting out. I know that it's more important for me to love my food first, than it is for anyone else to love it more. I know that amazing food can be created within boundaries that will make it easy to recreate and reproduce. I know that creativity is not a substitute for flavor. I know that you have to balance the unusual with the comfortable so that people will be more receptive to your offerings. I know that everybody gives lip service to flavor, in reality a lot of the food in restaurants just doesn't taste good. I know that if I spend 15 hours a day, seven days a week in the kitchen for an indefinite period of time that the food suffers, no matter what I may tell myself to get through. I know that not everyone will enjoy every dish that I create and that's permissible as long as I do love each one. I know that sometimes you have to compromise and that as long as you hold on to the spirit of what you do, compromise can sometimes transform things for the better. I know that any cook worth their salt knows when they send something sub-standard through the kitchen doors although they may not admit it. I know that any great cook who works for me will eventually need a place of their own. I know that my tastes will change and something that I find transcendent today may never move me again. The same is true for all of  my diners. 

Dinner and dessert last Saturday reminded me of all of these things. Both were presented by two talented young chefs with room to grow. Dessert perhaps more so, because when I looked at the carefully constructed plates I was struck by the amount of work that went into them. There were hours of research and prep needed to create the  fantasies that were set before me. I wanted to savor every bite and understand what was behind it. It was simply too much, too many elements, a myriad of interconnected ideas, too reminiscent of others that came before. I wished I could fast forward five years or even just two. I wanted to see what the creations would become.  And in both cases the spark was there. There was ability and creativity, and the knowledge that one day this Chef could be amazing. I don't think young cooks need to spend more time working for other chefs, per se.  I just think they need more time in their own kitchens to sharpen and to clarify their voices. To learn to edit their own ideas. That's when we'll find out who they really are and what they are truly capable of.

"And" & "But"

Call it luck or call it serendipity. I'm feeling very special today. It's not because of any one thing, in fact it's because of many small things that seem to be falling into place. Alex and I are feeling quite charmed and I mean to savor the emotion for as long as it lasts.  We saved a bit of money and that allows us that magical element of flexibility. In this case that means that we have time to explore our options and figure out which leaps of faith will suit us the best. We're not out on the street or wondering how to pay for food or for rent. We're doing a bit of free lance work, enough to know that we truly enjoy it and feel blessed to have opportunities coming our way. We're also considering some job options because while we're not strapped for cash it is dwindling.  We're also not convinced that we have enough money yet to open our own place. A few short term opportunities have presented themselves and we are considering them carefully. Because we can and because they can teach us a lot and remind us what it's like to be in a busy kitchen with staff and diners and all of the things we've missed most this last few years. No decisions or commitments have been made and there is lots of temptation to see what can be done in the short term. We know that not everyone has the options that we have and so we are thankful each day that we can do what we love and share it with like-minded individuals across the globe.

During the cruise we went to a series of lectures by Solutions in Mind. Although we missed the last talk in the series due to our own commitments, we enjoyed Steven's discussions about how the way that you phrase your ideas can actually influence their outcome. One of his suggestions was to stop using the word "but", one of my personal shortcomings, and substitute the word "and" and see what happens. "But" is definitely a negative and his point was that it cancels out whatever came before it in your train of thought while the word "and" links the two ideas together. I rather liked that image of linking ideas.  It is after all, the basic precept on which most partnerships are based. 

In cooking, I've often found that too much is simply too much. The idea of using the word "and " while creating recipes can seem overwhelming or just plain silly to someone who appreciates simplicity in dining. Although when you think about it, even the most basic recipes probably have more ingredients than you realize. For example, cacio e pepe, pasta with butter and cheese, involves the pasta itself, butter, water, salt, pepper, and freshly grated cheese. That's six ingredients for a seemingly uncomplicated dish. Often people are overwhelmed when viewing the ingredient list in recipes and to avoid the appearance of  difficulty, many writers leave basic ingredients like salt, pepper and water off of the list. They are still integral components of the finished composition but are deemed so obvious and basic that they need no mention at all.

We have always focused on the appearance of simplicity in our dishes. Although readers know of the layers of technique that may go into building a dish, to look at a photograph or a plate in a restaurant our dishes are meant to seem simple and approachable. The beauty of this site is that people who are interested in the background work can find details but those who are not can skip to the ideas that interest them the most. Everything we create has to taste good and th