This Christmas was the first time I had eaten at my previous work place since leaving in July. I questioned if I was eating food from the same kitchen that I remember dishing out the best pasta I’d ever tasted. This time around, something was off. Within seconds of taking my first bite, I abruptly stopped chewing- kinda like stumbling on a bone in your fish. Was it the texture? Definitely. Maybe it was the flavor, too. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the best pasta I’d ever tasted and I know it’s the exact same like cooks in there cooking the same pasta they were before, so if it wasn’t them, it must be me.
What's fantastic about being a cook is that every bite we take is an opportunity to improve our craft. Every day is a learning experience, as long as you’re thinking about what you’re eating and most importantly- asking questions.
Sometimes I despise what cooking has done to my ability to eat out- it's probably annoying for whoever is keeping me company, but for me being aware of my plate is my job outside my job. I can’t help but remark that my octopus is rather rubbery and that I know a place that the octopus a little bit better- where it's is so tender that it melts in your mouth. Annoying to my companion, inspirational to me. Say for example there is a totally level octopus playing field in NY- which there is. From what I understand, almost every restaurant in the city is getting their octopus, in one way or another, from the same purveyor. That being said, what makes everyone that eats the octopus at Marea jump for joy and claim it was the best they’ve ever had? That’s my job- finding out why even though thousands of chefs are handed the same product- one comes out better than the rest.
Probably most important as a cook to remember, or a chef, is to check your ego. Being able to acknowledge and accept that someone is doing it better is a necessary skill in this business, and at this point I do that almost every time I sit down for a meal. If you can’t accept a better way to do it, yours will forever remain less than best. That's what's so cool about this- I'm like a little sponge absorbing everyone's art, and taking notes. Luckily for me, nothing is set in stone yet. I have no recipes, no way I always do something, and I’ve never said, “Oh, I make the best ____.” Everything I do is just because this is one of my chefs showed me how to do it the first time, but I’m ready to learn it a thousands times over- as long as every time is better than the previous. Do you think chefs with an ego stand in the way of their own success? I don't think it can be argued any other way.
So what it is that defines good, better, and best? Is it the proximity to the next best thing? Is it all in the eater, their preferences and the range of what they've already experienced?
I ate at Corton within a few days of arriving in New York because it was supposed to be the hottest place with the most life changing food, not to mention the largest price tag. Whatever. The best part of dinner was the humor in the server’s elegant struggle to find space on our table for each person's three plates per course. The problem was compounded by our large group, none of who really figured out how to eat through our web of plates either. This was the best food in New York?? Really?
I have to respect his work- he is doing with food what no one else is, but no one said I had to call the meal good.
I was recently reading the book Coco and came across a recipe that reads, "apply energy to this mixture with an ultrasound machine..." I couldn't help but laugh and wonder when we stopped talking about food and starting talking about pre-natal medical devices. Moral of this story: take your new experiences with a grain of salt, not everything is better than the one before. Some are meant for another diner or another cook- In this business you have to trust your gut. If you think it’s silly for your garnish, sauce, and your protein on a different plate, that's just your opinion- and mine too. And if you think it's awesome to have to navigate your way between three plates in order to get one freaking bite of food and you see some form of art in that- than keep being an artist. Its all perspective.
I've spent almost six Months in New York now. I've eaten amazing things- I’ve snacked on Thomas Keller's food right from the pan he was cooking in.
I’ve eaten three, two, and one michelin starred meals and I’ve worked in one and two Michelin starred restaurants. Let me tell you the best meal I've eaten in six months. It was prepared by the two most amazing chefs in the world- one a natural bread and pastry wonder woman but this night she lent herself to savory side, and the other chef a self-taught grill master, and I was lucky enough to eat this meal, with them, in our own home. My dad grilled beef tenderloin over some wicked charring flames and my step mom roasted some root veggies from our farm. This was my first night back from NY, and I was unaccustomed to non-fussy food that I remember thinking- is this it? Let me tell you- this was IT. This was definitely the best meal I've sat down to in a really very long time.
What we as eaters, cooks, and chefs have to realize is that what we call “best" is really just perspective. You have to remember that what someone tastes isn't totally in your hands. Once it arrives in front of them, every single culinary moment that led up to this plate will shape their opinion- it's all relative.
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