Cooking With Ideas

Note by Note Cooking

Note by Note Cooking; The Future of Cooking is authored by Herve This. To be frank, this is both one of the most provocative books I have read in a long time -- and one of the most incomprehensible ones. 

Let me begin by describing it in general terms and then push forward to some responses. 

Note by Note Cooking is really about chemistry and cooking. On the one hand, this is both very interesting and useful. On the other hand, this is an advocacy document. What is This advocating for? Well, here's what I got out of it:  All food is chemical. (Yes, obvious, I know.) Cooking involves transformations of various foodstuffs which are themselves all. . . chemical. Thus, cooking = chemical manipulation and chemical manipulation is not a negative thing. From this he moves to: food can be made by combining chemicals. (Again, yes, obvious in some sense, though the detail here is interesting. Chemicals for color, for mouthfeel, for smell and taste, each defined technically). Under-girding this is a view that argues that while there is clearly a distinction between bad additives and good chemical creation as cooking, the distinction is not bad chemical good non-chemical, since everything we eat is chemical. While one ought (obviously) not use carcinogenic chemicals, for example, to make food, knowing about them ought not lead us to avoid using chemicals in our cooking. 

Alongside this advocacy, there are pictures of various meals or food items: something that looks like an egg and is made with nothing but various powders (aka chemicals) -- and tastes like an egg, for example. Ditto in the making of meat with muscles. And, then there are pictures of food that is not based on imitating something we already know (like eggs or meat), but making something entirely new. Here, This argues, is where creativity is reborn through note by note (aka chemical) cooking. 

The book is couched in a teacherly way, making clear that the use of chemicals/additives is not all bad. This rejects some arguments simply out of hand, and defines his terms in various unique seeming ways. All in the interest of arguing for cooking as creative -- through chemistry. If all cooking is doing something with natural products, and all chemicals are natural products, then . . 

Sounds great, right? Sounds obvious, right? And yet, to me, the argument feels more than a bit odd. I like the caviar-like balls that have surprising tastes invented by molecular gastronomists. I like some of the more chemical ideas. But: the whole thing makes me nervous. Whereas This might see me as simply nervos about change, I am not sure about that argument either, as it feels dismissive. 

Hmm, I think. Some of the book is over my head, but the notions of experimentation in cooking and in chemistry feel more comfortable to me. Maybe I am an incrementalist not a revolutionary? Maybe I am secretly a cooking (and eating) conservative? Or, maybe I simply need to re-read Note by Note Cooking by Herve This. 

For a terrific piece on This as "the world's weirdest chef," click here. Or, perhaps try this piece on This as France's most famous chemist, as noted here. 

Magazines Again -- Love 'Em

Lately, my attention span is a bit short. And, I have come across some terrific magazines in various places. Voila! Perfection! Short, and right at the cusp of savory and sweet.

The first find is called GFF, aka Good Food Forever which also references Gluten Free Forever. Yes, the magazine, website located here, is focused exclusively on gluten free possibilities, and is a newish quarterly magazine The photography is amazing, the stories a tad over-focused on the Bay Area, though I was glad to see my fave, Zuni Cafe, listed among the places where one can get gluten free options. The cover photograph is spectacular, which is what drew me to the magazine, though the accompanying article did not really reveal the "secret" of the gluten free flower from the Thomas Keller world. (I was at Ad Hoc and had gluten free fried chicken to die for almost a year ago, so was particularly drawn to this topic.) What I actually like about the magazine is the aesthetic combined with the practicality. We have made two versions of the potato pancakes and loved them both; the beet ones held together and went well with an apple/fennel relish; the herb potato ones fell apart more, but tasted perfect. I also have joined the pack that thinks exactly this: gluten free need not be yucky tasting. In fact, I have utterly lost my patience (following my partner who was gluten free much before I was) with those who think dessert for gluten free people is simply chopped fruit. Really. Really?!?!?!

The second magazine I found at Whole Foods, It was an utter indulgence -- as the price tag for a magazine really ought not be more than some books. (It was $19.99 and it was not more expensive because of the Whole Foods over-priced reputation.) The magazine title: GATHER Journal (this is its website which is qorth visiting in its own right). The issue I purchased, the fall/winter 2015 issue, iis issue #6, s focused on magic. I liked this so much that I am tempted to purchase earlier issues like the issue called caravan. In any case, this issue is absolutely beautiful -- and eclectic in a way. The photography and food styling are both over the top. The recipes are both whimsical and thoughtful. And, I have to admit I like the notion that on the margins there are tiny little stories that augment whatever is appearing in the center of the page. The section devoted to herbs is quite informative, while being entertaining. Cocktails, mains, amuse bouche, it is all there. And, the use of the notion of magic is also fairly wide ranging, including references to contemporary fiction, fairy tales, and pulling rabbits out of the hat. The subtitle "seasonal recipes and exceptional ideas" makes this a perfect magazine for bibliochefs everywhere. And the website has a mixtape section alongside blogging, recipes and more. All of the Gather material is very nicely presented and tempting to the point of overwhelming distraction. (Though again: $19.99 may mean these are really seasonal books? Hmmm.) 

So, they said the magazine was dying. Maybe not, given these two examples. 

And, if you are really into magazines, click here, where you can find a list of 20 awesome food magazines, most of which I had not heard of either. Magazines. Hurrah. (And a bow of thanks to the person in my life who is really a magazine person and from whom I have learned about their wonder.) 

Dying on the Vine

There is nothing like junk reading to blot out the sky. Not that the sky needs blotting out -- or even the weather -- but sometimes just disappearing into a murder mystery is a good thing. And, this is not just because much teaching of some kinds of information occurs in murder mysteries and other kinds of fiction these days. From areas of archaeology and history to recipes and forensics, we often learn as we read even when reading "junk." (A concern, of course, is whether what we learn is accurate or not. Also, there are always the more obscure pedagogical implications of junk reading, related to the commodification of the mind and etcetera. We must ask how much of what we read is correct and how we might either find that out or, at minimum, avoid allowing edutainment substitute for learning.)  But for today's purposes, the fact that the main sleuth in this particular nugget is an anthropologist who focuses on bones (and is known as the Skeleton Doctor) and the author, Aaron Elkins, uses every moment to teach us about bones, is not the issue! Did you know, for example, that if you are conscious and go over a cliff, you tend to land feet down while if unconscious or dead you tend to fall horizontally and land on face or back? Neither did I.

For Cooking with Ideas purposes, Dying on the Vine, though, is about more than skeletal remains. As you might guess, the relevant vine is the grape vine. The location is Tuscany and the background industry -- you guessed it again -- is the wine industry. Unlike the more pedantic approach of Gideon Oliver (the Skeleton Doctor) which forces his putative listeners to learn (and thereby Elkins' readers), we do not learn much about wine or wine making in this particular mystery. But it is there, including plot irrelevant disputes about the use of certain new(er) technologies in the making of wine and a brief reference to the University of California Davis enology program.

I admit it. I have read better mysteries, including better ones in this series. I figured out the perpetrator relatively early in the book (for me). The prose felt a tad plodding -- the running joke that the lead character talked too much and was over detailed in explanations simply did not make up for that very feature. Alas.

But: Dying On the Vine took me away. It brought me back to Cooking with Ideas. For both effects, I am grateful.