the joy of food

What is it about food? The smells, the tastes, the sounds, how it looks, and how it feels. I'm not just talking about eating, but also the immense joy you get when you turn a bunch of stuff into something delicious. Part of it must have to do with all the senses that are involved which helps you remember and enjoy your food experiences.

Food has been a big part of my life for a long time. Without realizing it, I had been involved in helping put together meals since I was a kid. At first it was just doing the simple things like washing and making the rice. Learning what the correct ratio of water to rice was and then forgetting all about once I heard about the finger test, or a similar method referred to by some as the Mt. Fuji test.

Next, it was helping out with the making of dumplings (known as jiaozi in chinese) on Sunday nights. Making dumplings was a family affair where everyone gathered in the kitchen, each assigned a job. From making the dough to rolling it into little balls and flattening them into little discs (making sure the edges were thinner than the middle) to stuffing and folding them into beautiful little packages. Once everything was done we were greeted with steaming plates of dumplings that made you feel all warm inside when you ate them. This wasn't just about getting dinner on the table, but a chance to sit together and talk before the beginning of another hectic week.

Like many people my age, I was a latch key kid. Both my parents worked and often it was us kids who were left to get dinner started before they got home. On easy nights that just involved heating up some leftovers and making some rice. But most often we would be tasked with peeling vegetables, taking some meat out of the freezer, maybe soaking some bean threads in hot water, nothing very complicated. Once my parents got home all the prep work we did would be quickly turned into a tasty dinner with a couple of dishes served family style.

Little did I know I was learning about the importance of organization and prepping your food ahead of time. Something that is known in the world of cooking as a mise en place. A fancy french term for a pretty simple idea. Obviously I've been talking about chinese cooking and for those who are familiar with that style of cooking know the importance of your mise en place. I can remember back to my childhood when we would have dinner parties at our house. The morning would be spent chopping vegetables, slicing meat (if it's still slightly frozen it's easier to get thin slices), scrambling eggs, cooking noodles, making rice, etc. By the time the guest would arrive the kitchen was filled with little bowls of perfectly cut carrots, celery, etc. and the refrigerator would be packed with bowls of marinating sliced beef, chicken, and pork. When everyone showed up my parents would put on a show with how quickly everything in those little dishes would come together to create a dazzling and colorful meal with so many different choices to taste.

It wasn't until my junior year in college that I realized how much I enjoyed food. By that time I had moved out of the dorms and was forced to cook or starve. I started out with simple things, like pasta, the college student's mainstay. Slowly I began to play around with my food some more while trying to stay within a poor student's budget. Simple things like stir-frying some chicken and then mixing it with some of the prepackaged seasoned rice my roomates and I tended to buy, more for the value than the taste.

Over the next couple of years I began to do more and started to avoid prepackaged processed food. I began pan roasting chicken breasts with little wedges of potatoes, asking my parents how to make some of my favorite dishes growing up, making giant pans of lasagna, discovering how simple chili really was, and playing around with making sauces. Many times friends would stop by while I was in the middle of a meal and stare at my plate incredulously. "Dude, what the f**k is that?" "It's a beef and vegetable stir-fry with a sauce that's kind of like a sweet and sour barbecue sauce." "I don't know, that's kind of scary looking. The sauce isn't even fluorescent pink like most sweet and sour sauces." This would then be followed by them picking a piece of food off my plate. "Dude, that's good. Mind if I have some more?"

I think my real food revelation didn't happen until I moved to Seattle. One of the memories I have from when I first came out here was me sitting at my little kitchen table on a winter evening slicing meat and chopping vegetables after having just come home from my temp job. In the dark living room Monday Night Football played on the television as I prepped my dinner. I remember feeling a little sad that I was cooking alone but at the same time I was comforted by doing something familiar and that reminded me of my family and friends on the other side of the country.

Over the past seven and a half years here I've experienced so much food, as my belly can attest to. I've discovered the gorgeousness of a simply prepared roast chicken with schmaltzy potatoes. The wonderful energy of going to the farmers markets in the city and seeing what was now in season. The pleasures of a fresh grilled fish sandwich at the Pike Place Market or how good a roast beef sandwich on a baguette with a raspberry croissant from Le Panier tastes. I've eaten Sengalese food, something I never would have even thought about growing up. The inviting warmth of Cafe Campagne on a cold evening. A paper cone of hot frites after a show. Eating a plate of chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes at a dive bar at 2am.

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm writing all of this. A couple of months ago the stress of work was starting to take it's toll on me and I was just feeling down. One Saturday afternoon I decided I wanted to make some pasta because I hadn't done that in a while. While working with the dough I began to remember the pleasure I got from cooking. The smell of the flour, the effort you have to put in while kneading the dough, and the feeling of the dough when it starts to come together. Eschewing the pasta cutting attachments on my pasta machine I decided to handcut it, after it had been rolled it, to make pappardelle. There was just something about meticulously cutting the dough into wide ribbons that brought me joy. Of course the chinese look at noodles as symbols of life, long noodles symbolizing long life, which is why you have to eat them on your birthday. How appropriate that these noodles had brought me an escape from what had been getting me down.

The next day I decided that I needed a sauce to go with these noodles, sauce in a jar just wouldn't do. So I set out to make a batch of bolognese, based on the bolognese they make at Babbo. I spent the afternoon making my mise en place with finely diced carrots, celery, onion, etc. There was something extremely meditative about cutting up those vegetables into tiny little cubes. After sauteeing the vegetables and throwing in the bacon and other meat I added the wet ingredients and let it simmer for a couple of hours. When it was ready I quickly cooked the pappardelle in some boiling water, ladled some sauce into a pan, and finished the pasta in the hot sauce. This was much better than any therapy I could have received.

So what was so special about that meal? It wasn't like I hadn't been cooking, but I was just cooking the same stuff all the time. I love my roast chicken, but it isn't the most challenging thing in the world to make. The same goes for a lot of the other stuff I was making, I was just on autopilot and not really taking the time to enjoy the experience of cooking. It's hard to do so when you're coming home from work and with just making something simple you won't be eating until 8 or 9 at night. But since then I've tried to do more, mostly on the weekend. Making a light spring salad with shaved fennel, blanched french beans, and tomatoes with a lemon vinaigrette; poached garlic soup; fingerling potatoes boiled and then browned in butter; and hopefully there will be much more. I even took a road trip out to Walla Walla to spend a couple of days away from work just eating great food and drinking amazing wine.

I've decided that no matter how crazy and hectic and stressful things get, I'll take the time to enjoy the simple pleasures of food. Immersing myself in all the great aromas and tastes, as well as the beauty of things like a perfectly roast chicken coming out of the oven. The feeling of flour between your fingers as you start combining the ingredients for some dough and the sound you get when you place a piece of meat into a hot pan or onto a hot grill. Food can really make everything better.