The State of the Recipe Union

Judy Roger's The Zuni Cafe Cookbook came out when I was about 16, and it couldn't have come at a better time in the evolution of my relationship with recipes. I had recently begun to use cookbooks and recipes for inspiration and guidance rather than explicit directions, and Zuni, which I read cover-to-cover twice, empowered me to look at the title, basic ingredients and picture of almost any recipe and to let my senses guide me from there. Rogers wrote chapters devoted to braising and butchering, odes to vinaigrettes, extensive discussions of frittos and page upon page describing the virtues of each oyster varietal. I also pursue the spirit of her "cuisine genereuse," cook pan-Mediterranean food, and am guided by a uniquely San Francico palate. Her book spoke to me, and her voice still often guides me. It is possibly my Joy of Cooking.

Alice Waters recently came out with a book with a similar structure in that it organizes and prefaces simple recipes with long descriptions of basic techniques. Unlike Zuni, The Art of Simple Food does not presume that its readers are passionate foodies. It is more basic and approachable, and less local in its appeal. I see it as having the potential to be found in far more kitchens than Zuni. It is advising its readers how to assemble their culinary tool boxes, in everything from the knife selection, pantry staples and a canon of basic sauces.

Unfortunately, I do not have Zuni in my dorm room. I do, however, have Simple Food and a French Laundry recipe for lemon-curd based desserts. Alice Water's recipe for lemon curd is very sparce, but it does follow a description of fruit curdery. I have added my comments as to where I think more specifics would result in a better curd, because I'm sorry, cutting corners with egg-based desserts is a recipe for disaster. I can't tell if she's leaving out important instructions because she thinks people know what to do or because she thinks they don't wat to be bothered. She suggests that it be used in tart shells, the recipe for which she offer elsewhere in the book (under "Tarts, Sweet and Savory"... this appears under "Custards"). I have not tried this recipe, but I imagine it is lovely (though at first glance I find it a bit eggy... I like Tartine's recipe, which calls for a pound of butter to be whisked in at the end, and in which I only uses Meyer lemons from my garden). 

The French Laundry recipe is as poetic and as anal in its execution as the man behind it is. Lemon Sabayon-Pine Nut Tart with Honeyed-Mascarpone Cream, is apparently inspired by a cup of tea with honey and lemon. Sabayon sounds much sexier than the Anglically turdish "curd," doesn't it? I have made this recipe several times, often in tartlet rather than tart form. The broiling of the tart is a pitiful attempt at allowing home cooks to brulee the tarts. I didn't like the result. I say buy a torch or just serve as is. The lemon, honey, pine nut is lovely.

Lemon Curd

Makes 2 cups

Wash and dry:

4 lemons

Grate the zest of one of the lemons on the small holes of a grater (preferably a microplane). Juice the lemons (strain the juice); there should be about 1/2 cup juice.

Beat until just mixed:

2 eggs

3 egg yolks

2 tablespoons milk

1/3 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt (omit if using salted butter) (ummm... salted butter varies greatly in saltiness)

Stir in the lemon juice and zest and add:

6 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces

Cook the mixture on a small nonreactive heavy saucepan, stirring constantly (with a whisk), over medium heat until it is thick enough to coat a spoon (what is that?). Do not boil or the eggs will curdle. When thick, pour (through a strainer!!!) into a bowl or glass jars to cool. Cover (so as not to form a skin) and refrigerate.

Here is a link to the French Laundry Recipe:

http://www.frenchlaundry.com/tfl/lemontart.pdf

 

Qui suis-je?

James Beard said, "Food is our common ground, a universal experience." In this sense, my relationship with food makes me akin to the rest of the world, but the intensity with which I pursue quality in my preparation and consumption of food separates me from those who see food as mere nourishment. For me, food is art. It can-- as all artistic mediums have the potential to do-- bear both universal principles and local or temporal values. It is also intensely personal, both to the artist and to the consumer.

I am a cook and a student raised in el cumbre of San Francisco, a rich plot of earth in which I grew into a foodie with cosmopolitan aspirations and a passion to see, learn and taste new things. My passion for food reached a turning point when I was twelve-years-old. This was the year when I started reading Saveur and Gourmet, began faithfully attending the SF Farmers' Market, made my first 4-course meal, and ate my first truly memorable meal at La Folie, where I dined on an effervescent salad bursting from a ring of cucumber, a suave pairing of scallop and asparagus, and an age appropriate plate of chocolate profiteroles. By 14 I had found my way into the Chez Panisse kitchen, where I fell in love with the witty banter of the line cooks, the perfection of the ingredients, and the fact that everything that came out of that kitchen was absolutely, simply, and honestly delicious.

Through the Chez I met Michael Tusk, chef and co-owner of Quince, who at 16 took me under his wing. Every Sunday my junior and senior years of high school I was the "teen queen of chicken ballontine," the mistress of soups and sformatos, and also the mise en place bitch of all the brilliant but overworked line cooks. The most important things I learned there were how to use heat, salt, acid, fat, make ethereal pastas, and how to cook an onion (most people don't know how and it really upsets me). The end of senior year I was offered a job at Quince (a 1-michelin star Italian restaurant), deferred Stanford, and really started cooking.

I worked there for three months and had the unique experience of not living up to my mentor's expectation, which was, that I would learn how to be a line cook overnight. As the restaurant was under-staffed, I was suddenly managing 10 menu items that changed daily and learning how to interpret tickets, pace plating and organize a 60-part station in a space the size of a pinhead in a kitchen whose schedule, inventory and menu were a recipe for chaos. I made the painful choice of leaving Quince, but I did so in hopes of learning the rhythms of service in a more stable setting. So, I brought my resume to Boulette's Larder in the Ferry Building, where I began my stint with Amaryll Schwertner.

Amaryll is one of the truest disciples of Slow Food that I've ever met. The ingredients were exceptional, and her pan-European approach to cooking subtle and thoughtful. Here I regained my confidence, could confidently set up my station and go through service, was given the opportunity to work with meat and fish, learned how to make yogurt and farmers cheese, and started using spices in my cooking. 

In March of 2007 I left Boulette's for Paris, where I lived for 5 months. I arrived not speaking a word of French and left with a thorough training in haute cuisine, the ability to be a bad-ass line cook, a new language and mon Olivier. I was able, despite my lack of language skills, to secure a stage at Taillevent, the oldest 3-michelin star restaurant in Paris. I worked on the fish station  doing garniture and dressage and also had the opportunity to see the entremet station. I was the only woman and the youngest, but I was offered a job there after a month. Unfortunately I had to decline it, returning to the U.S. for fall quarter, parting for a moment apart from my two greatest passions in life: cooking and my petit copain.

I am now studying languages and literature in hopes of pursuing a degree in comparative literature with a focus in food anthropology, French, Spanish, Italian, linguistics and art history. On the weekends I cater private parties to pay for my return trips to my second home in France. After Stanford I am considering pursuing a masters in the Anthropology of Food Culture at the University of Gastronomic Sciences in Italy. In the end, my dream life would be to be the chef de cuisine of my own restaurant (possible names Arcimboldo or Caprice...) and to write articles for such journals as Gastronomica.