change and continuity

Root admires La Pyramide, on the whole, but he holds that no restaurant on a byway can be called truly great, since its clients come a long way way to eat its specialties and it need scarcely ever change its menu. The truly great restaurateur is the one who can please essentially the same clientele week after week without boring or disappointing it.

a.j. liebling, "the modest threshold," in between meals.

learning how to eat

Eating is highly subjective, and the man who accepts say-so in youth will wind up in bad and overtouted restaurants in middle age, ordering what the maître d'hôtel suggests. He will have been guided to them by food-snob publications, and he will fall into the habit of drinking too much before dinner to kill the taste of what he has been told he should like but doesn't.

a.j. liebling,"just enough money."

fruit of the new world

mercado jamaica, mexico city. in warm climates, as one discovers in oranges, citrus may ripen fully even when the skin remains green.

the food you eat every day

Jean [Troisgros] was never so happy as when we drove down the block to the schlocky café and had the steak frites. He honestly loved that better than going to a three-star restaurant. It was pretty clear, the food you eat every day is the most important food. This is what we do at Zuni.*

judy rodgers (1956-2013)

st. john

there is so much hype about this restaurant that i didn't think i could enjoy it, but i did. very simple, very satisfying. and—a bonus—much attention paid to what is usually an unconsidered trifle: for instance, the  texture of a buttermilk pudding or an actual trifle. an establishment with a distinct and gentle sense of individual identity.

Here is a cure for any overindulgence, taught to me by my wise father: 2 parts Fernet Branca, 1 part Crème de Menthe, ice. Mix together and drink. Do not be put off by the colour. Be careful, this is so effective you can find yourself turning to its miraculous powers with increasing regularity. Do not let the cure become the cause.

fergus henderson, nose to tail eating

harvest of the cold months*

a heat wave grips the northeast in its sweaty palm. pastis (lots of ice) is one way to show the heat who's boss. strawberry mascarpone and pistachio ice cream is another: pale pink and vegetal green are the colours of summer. from toscanini's, of course.

*

eating is believing

james thurber, further fables for our time

c'est la plante et non la chimie qui fait le vin*

Everyone agrees that the magnificent wine he makes is better than the neighbours'. There are many reasons for this, one is that nothing is put in it, medicaments I mean. An artist who has taken risks all his life accepts the risk of his wine "going off" and only takes the more care of his barrels. The agriculturalist spoils his wine by "making sure."

patience gray, honey from a weed

*

great wines are worth waiting for

Genius is a combination of instinct and reason married to an unswerving dedication to a high standard. The expression of genius requires a certain obstinacy and the strength to be alone.

...

The most profound satisfactions often come in small increments that gather strength as they accumulate. In the realm of wine, the critical components of attaining top quality are the soil, the composition of which is created over millennia; the climate, which builds moment by moment through a growing season; the vine itself, which gives its best and most concentrated juice when it is older; and the daily tasks of tending the vineyard, none of which can be replaced by some trick or maneuver of winemaking. Much like us, a fine wine expresses its identity over time, and great wines are worth waiting for.

neal rosenthal, reflections of a wine merchant.

the path to meditation

It is against sanctimony and base prudence that much of my argument is directed, not in order to encourage vice, but in order to show that wine is compatible with virtue. The right way to live is by enjoying one’s faculties, striving to like and if possible to love one’s fellows, and also to accept that death is both necessary in itself and a blessed relief to those whom you would otherwise burden. The health fanatics who have poisoned all our natural enjoyments ought, in my view, to be rounded up and locked together in a place where they can bore each other rigid with their futile nostrums for eternal life. The rest of us should live out our days in a chain of linked symposia, in which the catalyst is wine, the means conversation, the goal a serene acceptance of our lot and a determination not to outstay our welcome ... Wine, drunk at the right time, in the right place and the right company, is the path to meditation, and the harbinger of peace.

roger scruton, i drink, therefore i am.

doing it right

in our relentless pursuit of making everyone satisfied that they have "done their best" and that everyone is a perfect snowflake, we often lose sight of how there are right ways to do things and thus, conversely, wrong ways to do things.* someone who is adroit follows an elegant and effective course of action, like odysseus, whose cunning and shrewdness (metis) led him to do the right thing (not a coincidence that droit in the original means right or law). a good printer, a good builder, a good furniture maker—all are adroit in their practice. the same holds for the cook. i found this passage from zhuang zi in the most unlikely of places (fuchsia dunlop, for those who care):

庖丁为文惠君解牛，手之所触，肩之所倚，足之所路履，膝之所倚， 砉然响然，奏刀豁然 ，莫不中音。合于桑林之舞，乃中经首之会。文惠君曰：“嘻， 善哉！技盖至此乎？” 庖丁释刀对曰：“臣之所好者道也，进乎技矣。始臣之解牛之时，所见无非牛者。三年之后，未尝见全牛也。方今之时，臣以神遇而不以目视，官知止而神欲行。依 乎天理，批大郄，导大髋，因其固然。技（枝）经肯綮之未尝，而况大骨乎！良庖岁更刀，割也；族庖月更刀，折也。今臣之刀十九年矣，所解数千牛矣，而刀刃若 新发于硎。彼节者有间，而刀刃者无厚，以有閒入无厚，恢恢乎其于游刃必有余地矣，是以十九年而刀刃若新发于硎。虽然，每至于族，吾见其难为，怵然为戒，视 为止，行为迟，动刀甚微，然已解，如土委地。提刀而立，为之四顾，为之踌躇满志，善刀而藏之。” 文惠君曰：“善哉！吾闻庖丁之言，得养生焉。

fortunately for you (and me), here is the least egregious of the translations of this passage:

His cook was cutting up an ox for the ruler Wen Hui. Whenever he applied his hand, leaned forward with his shoulder, planted his foot, and employed the pressure of his knee, in the audible ripping off of the skin, and slicing operation of the knife, the sounds were all in regular cadence. Movements and sounds proceeded as in the Dance of the Mulberry Forest and the blended notes of the King Shou. The ruler said, 'Ah! Admirable! That your art should have become so perfect!' (Having finished his operation), the cook laid down his knife, and replied to the remark, 'What your servant loves is the method of the Dao, something in advance of any art. When I first began to cut up an ox, I saw nothing but the entire carcase. After three years I ceased to see it as a whole. Now I deal with it in a spirit-like manner, and do not look at it with my eyes. The use of my senses is discarded, and my spirit acts as it wills. Observing the natural lines, (my knife) slips through the great crevices and slides through the great cavities, taking advantage of the facilities thus presented. My art avoids the membranous ligaments, and much more the great bones. A good cook changes his knife every year; (it may have been injured) in cutting. An ordinary cook changes his every month; (it may have been) broken. Now my knife has been in use for nineteen years; it has cut up several thousand oxen, and yet its edge is as sharp as if it had newly come from the whetstone. There are the interstices of the joints, and the edge of the knife has no (appreciable) thickness; when that which is so thin enters where the interstice is, how easily it moves along! The blade has more than room enough. Nevertheless, whenever I come to a complicated joint, and see that there will be some difficulty, I proceed anxiously and with caution, not allowing my eyes to wander from the place, and moving my hand slowly. Then by a very slight movement of the knife, the part is quickly separated, and drops like (a clod of) earth to the ground. Then standing up with the knife in my hand, I look all round, and in a leisurely manner, with an air of satisfaction, wipe it clean, and put it in its sheath.' The ruler Wen Hui said, 'Excellent! I have heard the words of my cook, and learned from them the nourishment of (our) life.'

from the inner chapters, translated by james legge

this passage describes action marked by elegance and economy of means, made possible by extensive and intensive knowledge and a particular approach to action. this approach also permeates dôgen's instructions for chef monks; these tenzo kyōkun (written "as instruction for accomplished practitioners of the way in the future") are worth reading.

pancake poet

The heart of real buckwheats, after all, is fragile, gentle, slow-beating, and indisputably alive ... Made into a batter sparked to life with some sourdough starter, left to ferment and mellow overnight, then sweetened in the morning with a little molasses, and baked on a griddle, the resulting soft, flannel-textured flapjack, with its delicate flavor and nutty, tangy aftertaste, is the pancake ethereal.

john thorne, serious pig

khichdi, khichri, khichuri, khichari, kedgeree

large quantities of parsley and a healthy dose of turmeric and cumin are crucial. good with smoked mackerel, but maybe even better with the original, but hard-to-find, smoked haddock. our people are working on it even now. bowl by judith motzkin, maker of the bread device. for more on kedgeree, consult pages 305-327 of john thorne's superb pot on the fire.

philosophies and approaches

Life is too short for me to approach a meal with the mincing steps of a Japanese prostitute.

jim harrison, "eat or die," in the raw and the cooked.

a simple, reassuring balm

simon hopkinson's books are particularly nice to read because, like the best of the british (patience gray, elizabeth david, etc), he has no qualms about being idiosyncratic and is often right. this is from his latest article in more intelligent life, about emulsions:

It’s the exquisite blandness of mayonnaise that I adore almost more than anything. In these times—when cookery seems to demand so much punch and flavour, so much absurd invention—my little lidded pot of mayonnaise sits in the fridge, a simple, reassuring balm.