Why, what, who, when and where. I still remember learning these basics of writing way back in elementary school, though the year or grade escapes me. The who is quite simple: my name is Eric, and I’ve been cooking to make a living for what is now more than half my life. I didn’t expect to be doing this line of work 25 years ago when I was enrolled in a somewhat renowned liberal arts college. I took courses on the one hand in engineering and computer programming and on the other hand in music and poetry. You know what I knew when I was graduating on a rain soaked day, drenched from head to toe after 3 hours? I knew I didn’t want to go to school any longer. At least not until some unknown force in the universe beckoned to me and filled me with a desire to do so. I still haven’t felt the desire or need to go back to the land of higher learning. I’ve learned some things along the way though.
What, when, where: I took a job after about a week in a small city, or town depending upon your definition, in New England. Well, it was more like I saw a sign in the window of a sushi restaurant (yes, landlocked New England), asked about it inside and was greeted with “Can you start tomorrow?” I agreed and the next begins my story into the restaurant world. Many jobs, spots, cuisines, long nights and early mornings, cuts, burns and a few sabbaticals later, I am still cooking back in my hometown, Oakland, CA. Maybe the universe has been beckoning after all. About a decade ago, I slid into the world of catering working in the production or prep kitchen. The characters were slightly different, the food was in volumes, and I didn’t have to wait for the chit to print out to receive directions on what to do next. I could go into depth about all manner of differences, but at the end of the day, I found working a semi-normal 7am – 3pm day rather a nice change of pace. Mind you the event staff don’t keep such regular hours or work in the same “office” on a daily basis. I’ve been fired, walked out on jobs, ascended the ladder, capped out, grown, stumbled and somehow find myself with a reasonable body of experience and experiences to draw upon and share when it comes to food. I also have a lot of opinions, as I’m sure you do too.
That leaves: Why? Because. That’s probably what I (the taller one in this picture) or my brother would have said at that age. My hair is not so blonde, nor cut so bowlish any longer. I can’t even figure out how we were pricing those apples (which fell off the neighbor’s tree into the sliver of yard on the other side of that Volvo station wagon). I’m in the business some decades later of selling food and ideas and experiences. Because that’s one of the things food gives us besides nourishment and sensation. When its done well, the restaurant, party or event gives us an experience, where old memories come out of slumber and new ones are created. I have an inner sense of knowing that is only realized in sharing a meal with someone. It’s not that I want to see if they use a fork and knife properly or have an odd creaking to their jaw when they chew. Something inside me is stirred and the relationship is, to use an odd phrase, consummated. It’s like that, and that’s the way that it is.
Also, I don’t fetishize over food. Many a day and night, I eat to quiet hunger. Hunger that gets out of control. I’m not sure if I’m the right person to ask for restaurant recommendations or what my favorite food is. I’d probably send you to the same place I get a medium pepperoni pizza for $7 or the burrito spot which is conveniently two blocks away. I’m a creature of habit and necessity. I buy the same things when and if I cook at home. A whole chicken and potatoes. I just want to relax. Why am I trying to produce cooking videos and share these things ? I don’t know. Maybe the universe is beckons and because I bought a bunch of gear and know a thing or two about how to prep vegetables and attempt to keep a sharp knife, I feel that I ought to. I’m still pretty sure I don’t want to go back to school though.
No, I know what it is. For the years I’ve been in “management” which I find a somewhat loose term, I’ve tried to show, help, teach, prod others to see the food prep from a different angle. Much of the time and guilty as charged here, we come with our own habits and sense of pride which interfere with learning. Or at worst close our minds. So I’m loosely creating this blog to try and open my mind. I’ve mimicked many chefs for many years and stolen techniques from fellow cooks along the way. I’m not sure I have a style, but I know what the process feels like. And the process for me is what really drew me in to cooking and serving food. It always feels bigger than me, bigger than even a team of trained professionals will be able to accomplish in whatever timeframe is given. It’s hundreds of incremental steps, which when executed effectively create the space for the memories to be set free.
I’ll leave you with one recommendation, which is probably my favorite cookbook, if one could call it that. Well before the time of 30 minute meals, a Frenchman, Edouard de Pomaine authored this gem distilling French cuisine into 10-minute meals.
“French Cooking in Ten Minutes: or Adapting to the Rhythm of Modern Life” 1930
The cover is different if you go looking for it online, but I like this one too. The first sentence is great, “I am neither crazy nor a micromaniac.” I’ve never read the whole book, but it always brings a smile when I think of his first suggestion on page 4:
“The first thing you must do when you get home, before you take off your coat, is go to the kitchen and light the stove. It will have to be a gas stove, because otherwise you’ll never be able to cook in ten minutes.
Next, fill a pot large enough to hold a quart of water. Put it on the fire, cover it, and bring it to a boil. What’s the water for? I don’t know, but it’s bound to be good for something, whether in preparing your meal or just making coffee. Now that everything’s started, you can take off your coat and start cooking.”
He also makes a point to address for whom his book is for which I will now repurpose for this blog:
“I am writing this [blog] for students, dressmakers, secretaries, artists, lazy people, poets, [people] of action, dreamers, scientists, and everyone else who has only an hour for lunch or dinner but still wants thirty minutes of peace to enjoy a cup of coffee.”
The Leftovers Undressed 