Recovering a Sense of Authorship
Shrimp D’avolo, with Crunchy Seeded Salad
I surprise even myself when I come home from weeks of cooking for others, to then start cooking for myself. People often ask, “Is this how you eat at home?” “Well, sort of? But with less frills.”
The meals are often times much simpler and without the luxury of herbs & garnishes (When will the universe deliver me a garden?)- steamed salmon with white rice, defrosted fish stock with soba noodles and leftover greens, a ramen packet with an egg, a can of tuna with dashi (recipe to come!).
After 12 years of cooking professionally, I’m pretty good with manifesting the foods that I crave in the moment. As one of my clients said, It does feel like magic sometimes. Sometimes I scroll the internet, waiting for the pang in my stomach to fall in love with a photo. And I still scroll recipes because sometimes I forget about basic ingredients I should incorporate when I’m thinking too fast.
But many of us are busy people looking to cook to feed. And when it comes to recipes, they usually fall into 3 categories:
1. follow recipes to the T, and feel bad about themselves when they’re missing cumin, but feel cheeky when they eyeball a teaspoon
2. ignore or skim recipes, embrace the chaos, and go rogue (but still like the guidelines as a reference point)
3. save recipes for when they have time, but otherwise eat what they know and remain in culinary purgatory
It’s illustratitive of the wide spectrum of culinary aptitude that positions people to be everything from conservatively rule abiding to an adventure seeking wanderlust in the kitchen. But if you’re somewhere in the middle, and have cooked to feed, and enjoy the art of culinary preparation, may I introduce you to Stories (a working title because Day refuses to let me annoucne the new blog as “The Tyranny of Recipes.”) Similar to Sam Sifton’s No Recipe Recipes, I’d like to discuss the process of how I got there (here?), rather than dictate how you get there. It gets deeper I promise.
There’s a crunch, a sweetness, and taste of salinity; something cloying and creamy, but instantly met with a burst of acid. Bringing harmony in flavor is always at the forefront when creating dishes. It’s someting I’m always thinking about when I assemble menus, and then more broadly the atmosphere, the weather, the celebration, the space, and the people. The best chefs can speak this language effortlessly without distraction or self doubt. But recipes don’t have soul as Thomas Keller said. “You as a cook must bring soul to the recipe.”
This blog is for home cooks, culinary beginners, food lovers, readers, afoodb.tumblr fans who’ve had nowhere to go since (link still live!), and general internet vagabonds. Every week I’ll share a missive coupled with a no recipe recipe of sorts, and an illustration if I can muster it.
For years, I struggled with the same challenge to create freely in the professional kitchen (more on that later). Until you become the chef of your own kitchen, very rarely do you get to exercise creative freedom in the kitchen. Sure, the menu specials usually suggest there is a free-spirited leader somewhere in the back that allowed a sous chef to create a dish, but typically it’s a recipe followed affair. If it’s not, there’s an issue- the paradox! (side note: I’m amazed how many people think they are chill, when in fact, they are so not chill).
The goal here is to provide you with as much culinary advice to help release you from the tyranny of the recipe, find a path to higher creativity. It’s an invitation to improvise and “play jazz” (this is an important metaphor because I’ve been asked to do this many times, and it’s always a triggered a feeling of ineptitude and inability to chill). Heck, it’s an invitation for me to play jazz really! Help me help you help me. Let’s work together!
"A well-informed cook, is the best defense against tyranny” - Thomas Jefferson’s chef, or someone like that.
