market inspiration

by Manny on July 1, 2010

Japanese style quick pickled cucumber

Each Saturday morning, my wife and I hold a special ritual. Some families wake up to a long breakfast, some cartoons with the kids, others just sleep in for a couple additional precious hours of rest. For us it’s an early morning at the markets. We wake up before the sun comes up and visit the two small markets in town. To me this commitment means more than supporting local crops and their growers, it’s about inspiration and respect.

I have always believed that in order to be a better cook, one must deeply and unpretentiously understand their ingredient and where it comes from. After all carrots don’t come out of he ground wrapped in cellophane with a barcode.

I grew up in a family where each meal was labored upon with much detail and attention. We lived off the land and you made everything that you could buy off a shelf. Things were not available year around. There were seasons to respect. And when those seasons came around their limited supply was reflected in our cooking. Nothing went to waste.  

Whatever you could not make yourself you bought it from your neighbor.

Need flour to make bread? Go down to the mill.

New broom? The man down the street makes them.

Need pots to cook with? Go see the blacksmith.

It was nine years after birth and a 3000 mile plane ride before I walked into my first supermarket.  This is the life I grew to love. This is the life I miss.

The few summers I remember were spent with my mother’s parents. Going to the farm with my grandfather each morning taught me the natural cycle of things. Everything made sense on the farm. Even as a child, one could relate that to make oil you need olives. To make cheese you need cows. It is no surprise now that the smell of manure brings a smile to my face.

Visiting the farmers each week brings me back to that childhood in a place where people’s connection to their food was integrated into every aspect of their daily life. Browsing through the stalls you can picture the face behind the counter pulling their crop out of the ground. The smell of dirt still lingering. Strike a conversation with these people and you can see the passion in their eyes.

Once they find out what I do for a living, they welcome me each week with their prized possessions. The really good stuff that is “just food” to most people. One of the farmers last week, inspired by my work handed me a jar of peach salsa he had made proudly with everything he had found at his farmer’s market. It was delicious.

Yesterday I met a group of six farmers not too far from were I live, who tend to 500 acres. On an old plantation they began planting crops a couple of years ago, leaving behind their former jobs where produce was planted for speed growth and volume rather than taste. I watched enchanted as they carefully picked and dug each crop from its resting place. Their hands, worn from years of laborious love for the land, brushed the dirt off each eggplant, pepper and okra. Hands wrinkled and soiled. The same hands I remembered watching as a child. Upon their face, the look of my grandfather as he offered from the tip of an old pocket knife a taste of plenty. A taste of real food.  

These are the brave men and women of the food industry. These are the people that allow me to dream and create. Their work and struggle has become my inspiration.  

 

Kyuri Zuke (quick pickled Japanese style cucumbers)

This Zuke traditionally is a mixture of cucumber, sea weed, rice vinegar and soy sauce. I find that the following recipe is much more flavorful, and a great way to use up farm stand produce.

2 Cucumber – shaved with a potato peeler, then cube the core.

Seaweed – reconstituted* in water and roughly chopped

Ginger – to taste, peeled and grated

Cilantro – cilantro and ginger are great friends

Scallion or green onion – sliced

Napa cabbage or regular red – finely sliced

Soy sauce

Rice wine

Sriracha

This is not so much a formula as it is a true home recipe. Use the ingredients to your liking.

A good ratio for the vinegar to soy sauce is 2 to 1. Be careful with the sriracha (also known in our kitchen as cock sauce. If you’ve seen it you know why) as it packs quite a punch of spicy.

If necessary season it to taste further with a pinch of kosher salt. A good drizzle of toasted sesame seed oil doesn’t hurt either if you find some tucked away in the back of your pantry.

Allow the zuke to sit for at least a couple of hours at room temperature or 24 hours in the fridge. I personally like it served with a spoon, but it’s a great topping on noodles, and hot dogs.

*to reconstitute is to rehydrate a dry ingredient in water. Normally takes a couple of minutes.

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the artist and the technician

by Manny on May 20, 2010

A couple of weeks ago my team, consisting of my wife- the event planner, a good friend- the mixologist, and a handful of loyal volunteers hosted an underground dinner party. One of seven thus far. The dinners go by the name of blue dinner underground. Each one has a different theme, setting, and likewise different menu. We’re not quite sure why it is that we do this. Each time we push ourselves further to the breaking point, and like addicts searching for a fix we desperately seek out the next high. The process is simple, a location becomes available- office buildings, roof tops, back yards, whatever, the theme is dictated by the location and the menu follows.

 Sometimes there is a kitchen, most of the times there is none. Blue’s concept is to keep all things true to form, manipulate as little as possible. Planning takes weeks, sometimes months of nonstop thought and brainstorm sessions. The day of the event begins early typically before the sun is up and ends late into the night. The week itself is an easy 100+ hours of planning, manual labor, and preparation. We call this fun. Our escape from the everyday routine.  

 At our last dinner, in hopes of spending more quality time with our guinea pigs (blue does not host guest but instead test subjects of our madness), I decided to take on help for the execution of a 7 course, 210 plate menu. I couldn’t have asked for a better setting to have done so. The conversations were intriguing and the questions led me to realize the fascination behind a chef’s psyche.  

 Although happily enslaved by my profession for most of my life, I can only speak for myself in attempting to deconstruct the mind of a chef.

 The word chef makes me uncomfortable. So easily tossed around it has become a term representing any numbnut that places food onto a plate. There is no respect behind the word as there once used to be. A term implying someone in pearly whites who hardly comes in contact with what they produce. Unfortunately for me there is still romance within the term chef, making me unqualified among my peers if I do not reside within its allure.      

To better understand the food you are eating you must first understand the psyche of the person who prepares it. In my work I seek an understanding of food a few ever truly find.

 Major insult- call me an artist.

 I am a craftsman, a humble cook, but artist I am not. The word itself cheapens what I do. Artists have the freedom to create for themselves, they do not have to take under consideration their audience. A luxury I wish I had.

 I understand where the confusion begins. Yes, I do get to play around and express my imagination but first and foremost I am a technician. I alter the structure of substance which will become part of you. There is almost a sexual intimacy between the cook and the patron. We understand the elements we work with, respect their reactions and follow a science unwritten. Our methods of control are touch, sight, and hearing. All mastered by years of repetition, trial and error.

 Much like blue’s concept I aim to keep things true to form. My goal- to cook with intent and purpose.

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