Okay, so I'm sure we're all familiar with the book Kitchen Confidential by the great Anthony Bourdain. If not, you've likely seen him and are familiar with his point of view. Today's entry is about how chefs used to be revered like physicians and idolized like rockstars...at least, according to Anthony Bourdain. 

Bourdain claims that coming up in the kitchen, there was a seedy underbelly that was really only known by the industry and was for the most part overlooked as long as things got done. So what exactly did this entail? Sex in the office, questionably 'legal' activities in the bathroom, heavy drinking on the line...chefs were permitted to lead a near-Keith Richards lifestyle. Then it stopped. 

Well, that is, at least in the higher end of the culinary spectrum. The lower end of the proverbial spectrum managed to elude the reformation that befell their upscale counterparts. The problem being that the general public began to frown on the hedonistic lifestyle of the lower end of the culinary industry and the chefs employed therein. In fact, it's only now that the new generation of young, up and coming chefs are beginning to surface and redefine the industry, that the general public is beginning to view us in a different light. 

There's still an underbelly, but it's very different than that of yesteryear. So what is it? Consider this, when the world at large is getting out of work, we are entering the busiest part of our day--the preparation and servicing of the dinner crowd. Hours later, when others are fast asleep, we are breaking down the kitchen and considering tomorrow's menu. The hours take their toll. The following day when most are going to lunch, we are rolling out of bed from a night that stretched into early hours of the morning...often passing morning joggers on our way home from the kitchen. 

So if you see us on the street--no doubt on our way home, while you head to the office--take a moment, stop and say hello. You just might make a new friend...underbelly or not.

All for now. 

Chef

Is it just a craze?

Okay guys, today I'd like to cover the Asian craze among restaurant owners and chefs and the deeper question which underlies the entire issue: is it just a craze or is there some kind of merit, that mall-based chain restaurants are somehow missing?

Personally, I think the rise in popularity of high-end Asian cuisine over the last ten years has been due in large part to two pioneers, each of whom has gained celebrity status for their vision and panache: Nobu and Morimoto. 

These two men--while pioneering and altering their cuisine to suit the American pallet--have effectively made Asian cuisine and the resulting Asian fusion, far more accessible and acceptable and for that, we owe them a debt of gratitude. 

The sticking point for me is when I talk with other chefs, friends or colleagues and I sometimes hear them say they prefer "Asian food." As a wise man recently said, "Asian is pretty big and encompasses a lot. How good can you be at all of it?"

Another issue that's become a problem is when people use only or or two key ingredients in a dish and then having the stones to call it Chinese or Japanese or some derivation thereof. Look, don't get me wrong, this isn't a sensitive issue for me, but at some point enough it enough. The cavalcade of copycat replicas popping up at strip malls and cooking aisles of books stores is staggering. I mean really, what is Asian food? That's a continent, not a country! Do we say African food? Absolutely not. We're generalizing a continent and "fuzing" it with something wholly unrelated. Sometimes this works (peanut butter meets jelly, Run DMC meets Aerosmith, etc.) but sometimes, it just simply doesn't. Which brings us back to the original question, is this just a fad, or is there some real merit to this craze?

For the moment, the jury is still deliberating. 

Regardless, those of you at home, get creative. Use your ingredients with creative abandon. Who knows, you might be the next Morimoto. 

Until next time.

Jonathan Martin

What Does It Take

Okay guys, so instead of the first entry launching into a big discussion about the merits of molecular gastronomy and whether or not it will be a fad versus a movement, I've opted to to simply pose a question to you that I've struggled with for some time now: what does it take.

Every time I tell people what I do or a living, I typically get a seemingly forced ooooh or ahhhh (thanks to the likes of Emeril, Rachel, Gordon, Mario and the rest) and when it's a guy, it's usually followed by the one-liner that never gets old, "dude that's awesome, I can't even cook cereal." My usual reaction is to simply ask why they can't (or don't) do other things in the kitchen, to which most people reply that they're just not "born with natural talent."

Generally speaking, that might be true for many professionals (i.e. if you're not 6'9 you're probably not going to play power forward for the Lakers) but on the whole, I disagree with this statement. In my industry, I can tell you that talent these days is conditioned by culinary schools across the globe. So does that mean you must spend a quarter of a million dollars to be able to cook? Absolutely not. 

Okay fine, you say. Then what's the secret remedy for repeated nights of cereal for dinner, burned chicken, another casserole disaster, or some 'creative' Wonder bread concoction you and your roommates created during freshmen year of college? It's simple, it's unassuming, and it's probably the last thing most people will reach for in the spice cabinet...

Imagination. 

That's right, imagination. A healthy dose of imagination and a handful of patience and your next meal just might be endless. 

Try it now, thank me later. 

Jonathan Martin