Carrot Top

Not unless you want a replay of certain parts of "Last Tango in Paris". One of those things one never forgets. So? Share? Don't be selfish now. One among many won't hurt, will it?

How about a preserved lemon story? There has to be one. There always is one where there are preserved lemons. Connect it to the Firesign Theatre, even. Even if it isn't really real. (Example: One night, I was dreaming of the Firesign Theatre albums. A huge twenty foot high mushroom appeared before me and said, in a strangely squeaky voice for such a very large handsome mushroom, "Take me to your leader. And make me some preserved lemons, tout suite, while you are at it . . .") etc etc. Hmmmm?

I don't mean to quibble, I mean to explore, hopefully. I have no final proofs or points to make, really. Though I will espouse positions of my own, my ideas constantly change due to new information learned. There have been many veers from the focus on the thread, and to me, that is something attendant upon the strength of Tim's piece and the not simple nor enclosed questions raised by it. Kudos to Tim, in my book, and the numbers of responses on this thread should bear witness to whatever he happened to strike upon in our minds and hearts. Perhaps another thread would be the place for discussing many of these things. I'd rather give him the numbers, though. As good fences make good neighbors, good numbers make good nods to acquaintance for many things for what they represent. I could try, to find a better link from what I was talking about (and what you were talking about previously in your post) to the French, or the British, but more than an "answer" to things I prefer an ease of conversation rather than a struggle, so maybe another time, another place. My knuckles have been suitably rapped.

Do you believe that those deliberate methods of appropriation were for the most part a conceptual process that was planned, or moreso a case of taking out the (new, foreign) paints that happened to now be before one and simply playing with them, thereby having a deliberate method of appropriation, yes, but one done in real time using the tools one uses as chef on an everyday basis. . .food. . .with concept following the paint rather than paint following the concept. . . I think, Pontormo, that the paint led the way rather than a formal conceptualization leading the paint, in most cases.* It would be curious to backtrack on American fusion cuisine to see whom the leading lights were, and what they claimed their process to be. (*To phrase it another way, an organic process rather than a mentally pre-conceived or deliberately manufactured one.) (I'm actually beginning to feel a bit mental, myself, within this discussion. . . ) (But never deliberately manufactured)

It *would* be interesting to know when exactly the word "fusion" cuisine was coined, Pontormo. I did not find "fusion" nor "cuisine" in Hendrickson's "Enclyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins" so went to the usual dictionary (American Heritage) which has no separate entry for the phrase but rather it is the last commentary under "fusion". There was no note of when it was supposed to have started. But that's just a dictionary definition, anyway. Heh.

They really need to invent a new word for this one. I grimace every time I see it. ................................. We sing for our supper as chefs. One way or another. Pretense of mind there or not.

Yes, yes, and yes. Yes. Did I say "yes"? Yeah, I did.

Both anecdotal and imaginative. But then thinking of chefs and what they do *is* a romantic thing. To those that are not chefs. And as long as the cuisine is something exciting and/or conceptual rather than "plain old". (That's okay, too. I certainly made lots of money off that sort of thinking. )

A. . .is for Afraid, of Cave Mountain Snakes while pregnant. B. . .is for Bored. Bored into Turning On The Stove for the first time ever. It was a hot summer day. The sunny days stretched endlessly then, when one was ten years old with no school, no duties, no set times for anything, anything at all. In the morning one would watch TV, sprawled out on the couch trying to find something to watch on any of the three channels that were available then. Bozo the Clown sometimes was on at 8:30, but from there on in, it could quickly become boring. "What's My Line?" and "The Price is Right!" giggled in jolly content from the screen endlessly. How many women with tight-knit curls would jump up and down screeching with pleasure at the hand-mixer they had won? How many men with black glasses and white short-sleeved shirts would look up at the game show host after serious deliberation, and answer a question with pompous nods of their heads at the world? Mid-day a bike ride, a jump in the local pool, hoping that the bully eleven-year old boy would not push one off the diving board once again, scraping one's legs into slices as he laughed uproariously with his friends. Maybe a friend would be around, maybe she would be allowed to come visit (not too likely in most cases, most times, as there were no adults home at my house). One day I was lucky. My friend was allowed over, from some odd chance. We played Mad Libs (our absolute favorite, we laughed and laughed at the stupid sentences we'd made!) and listened to records and finally got hungry. Her mother cooked, in her home, and she did not know how to really make anything to eat. My mother cooked also, but I was used to making sandwiches and eating all sorts of lovely junk that happened to be around. One summer I believe I lived on popsicles and raw bacon, with a smattering of grapes, and it did me no harm. We decided to cook something, on the stove. We got out a 10" teflon saute pan and got to work. We had no preconceived ideas of what it was we were going to cook, so just started in on whatever came from the refrigerator or cupboards. Honestly, I can not remember a single ingredient, but do know that not a single one went together in any way whatsoever. The gas heat simmered the mixture as it came along, growing into whatever it was growing into. First it was beige, then it somehow became a sickening green color, and finally, with a loud stench emitting from it, it turned a lovely purple. We laughed and laughed (as ten year old girls are wont to). It was the gloppiest, most colorful concoction ever invented. Was it food anymore? I doubt it. Somehow we had transformed normal ingredients into the completely inedible. I left it on the stove and we made some bologna sandwiches. My mother didn't say much when she saw it when she came home, except "Karen, clean up your pot," as she walked away. (A typical WASP response to such a thing.) B is for Boredom, and how it can make one turn on the stove to make some really messy things.

Chefs mostly do not think in terms of frame of consciousness that lurk around desires to meld "cuisines". They think in terms of flavor, color, shape, taste, texture, and methodology of cooking. It's not about the "cuisine". It's about the food. For most chefs. Afterwards, of course, when creations have been made, it makes a nice intelligent and worldly sound-bite for the public relations to speak of higher things, higher things being "cuisines" and culture. But mostly, it's about the food one can play with, what one can actually touch.

I also seem to (vaguely) remember wars started based on desires for foodstuffs. And not only in my home, either. Rome/Egypt. . .wheat, olives, lemons? (Don't quote me, I'm just vaguely remembering. . .)

Great topic idea for a thread (?) "I wonder if the first fusion meal was when ___________".

Oh. If I was rude in any way earlier, I apologize. (But not really.) (Lots of wonderful stories. . . )

Going by his previous skivviness on Boiling Point, it was briefs. Black or dark blue, I believe (!) (And the only reason I recall is because in the episode in which he was preparing for Marcus Waring's wedding, he kept shucking his "kit" as he changed - for the bachelor party, the wedding, etc. - and I thought, "Hmmm . . . does Gordo NOT care he's being taped? Or did he just forget?") Mind you, Boiling Point was shot nearly 10 years ago . . . (!) ← What?! A chef that is an exhibitionist?! No. . no. . .it can't be.

Using those parameters, then, "fusion" cuisine can only be said to be something existing today and not yesterday due to the ease and quickness of modern transportation. Modern transporation for the masses and modern banking for the masses make obtaining previously foreign ingredients as easy as lifting a telephone and pulling out a credit card. Kings (Queens too?) and rulers of countries used to send for foreign ingredients they desired, sending their envoys thousands of miles upon whatever means of transportation was available. They carried bags of gold perhaps, as payment, or enclosed letters with promises of other things as trade. The desire was there for the fusion, and the intent made real in form of taking the job on of going to get the foreign ingredients. It was slower, for transportation had not been industrialized. It was more class-sectioned, for obviously only the very wealthy could afford to do this - no "chef" would ever be able to realize this as an action they could personally take. So perhaps indeed, fusion cuisine as defined as or can be said to be pre-modern-day, and not simply passive. If one starts with an idea, one often ends right up back at the idea. Start with the idea of our industrialized world and the rest will be defined by it - leaving out important opportunities to see things in different lights. It's my feeling that there has been indeed a true and active, non-passive, "fusion cuisine" since time began. It may not fit our parameters of our time as the class structures were different, and it may not fit our time as it could not have happened so very quickly or actively due to differences in means of transportation. Maybe one might say there was a "pre-industrial" fusion and a "post-industrial". (As with so many other things. . .)

I remember a poem once by someone named Jensen, a poem about a bar. Fond memories. Carry on. . . Menus to write, things to cook!

Suzi. . .that's a fascinating concept. . .I like to look at that sort of idea. . . Domestic Goddess. . .your story put me in an unknown fairy-tale like place, and it was very beautiful. Thank you.

SB, Could you explain your idea further? We have people suggesting food items but no stories, food items as suggestions for food items already suggested for the letter, food items with stories, and then of course there is me who wants to follow my original plan in some small fashion. Who is supposed to be writing the menu, and when and how? Are they supposed to write recipes based on the ingredients posted? And when - at the end, or as the thread progresses? If there are alternate ingredients being suggested, who gets to choose the one used in the final menu if there is to be one? Are stories not supposed to be in this game, attached to the food? Do stories have any place in this thread? Does my idea of attaching food to ideas have any idea in this thread? I can't see how the "game" is getting "harder and harder", nor can I see that it is getting any less confusing, though I don't think it even had a chance to get confusing in the first place. . . KR (looking for direction here - where's your compass?) P.S. I think for myself, I'm going to leave it up to you to head the direction and decide the format. I'll do the M.F.K. Fisher idea somewhere else, another time.

Well. . .either I was whispering when I wrote the introduction above, or nobody wants to agree with the idea but rather to stick. firmly. to. food. items. only. Do. not. go. off. path. Hey. If the idea was good enough for M.F. K. Fisher to try, I figured maybe someone besides me would like to give it a shot. I only started with anchovies, a direct food item, because I didn't want to sound too too very snotty. Heh. I like your definition of jingoism, Michael. And I can even think of something to do that has to do with food and jingoism that is right on this very board at this very moment. Not a stretch. I didn't add a story of my own because I am not sure where the thread is going and don't intend to drive it any direction it doesn't want to go. Are we writing a menu here? How is that happening. . .when the foods are finally collected, someone makes recipes from them that then will form the menu? Are we following the alphabet and telling stories of foods as the letters go along? I dunno. Don't ask me. Guess we'll just wait and see.

But then of course if real numbers (based on whatever way they find these numbers heh) are wanted, one could always search The National Restaurant Association. This site is for the US. There is a similar thing for the UK.

Though actually, if that is too anecdotal for you ( ) you might find a definable resource in looking at what the "top" cooking schools are teaching in this area of operations planning. Higher education (what is taught in colleges and universities) is always directly linked to how things work in the real world, isn't it?

Probably both yes and no. The brigade system is used in professional kitchen operations of a certain size in most western countries and those operations in other countries that are affected by western-oriented business practices. It has become almost standard grammar, in a sense. One might wander off a bit (and there are examples of this happening more and more, "today"), but the formal idea still remains in mind almost as core basis of thought pattern in back-of-house operational setup for fine dining. (I should add that stations can be, and often are, eliminated or combined from the more formal form as needed, basing this decision upon the defined menu requirements of any individual operation.)

The only way to have documentation of actual evidence of "improvement" on the job after these corporate team-building activities are the surveys filled out by the participants. The surveys generally focus on "morale improvement", or "how do you feel now?" (a warm and fuzzy thing). Usually everybody feels "better" even if just because they got off of work to do something different. These (good) results can then be tied directly to job performance using whatever category one wants, if one wants. Usually there is some way to make a case for improved job performance. If there isn't any way (like, the company is losing money like crazy and the customers hate all the employees) to claim good results, then of course one can say that obviously more team-building experiences are required. Besides, the cooking team-building experiences are fantastic. Why? Because everyone gets to eat.

I've finished "Serve it Forth" and for my part, have decided that MFK's attractions to me at this moment are several. The first is the cadence, or the music of her prose. Not the specific prose itself (though that is lovely and moving at times and very very interesting at others to make an understatement). This cadence thing fascinates me, for I can not remember where else I've felt it this very strongly. One thing I *was* missing in her writing was a sort of layering (I am sure there is a better word for this but I do not know it. . .the best example I can think of in terms of this "layering" occured for me in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses) but the cadence makes up for it, in a different way, maybe. . . In most of the stories collected in "Serve it Forth" larger themes are being discussed than "just food". That, is something rather amazing in itself. She has the eye of a writer in seeing the stories that play out before her and the magic of a poet in noticing the intensely small then making it as large as it really is, in the mutable universe of the poet that sings in words of truths often not of man's making. The last chapter (so short! so perfect!) of the book made me very happy when reading it (and still, in thinking about it). Four sentences. A story told, a satisfying taste felt, and a question for the reader left in the mind, as the last page is closed.

I always want a story, Michael. What is life like without stories? ........................ I'm not really sure what the new plan is here. Are we just writing a menu, without attached stories to the food? It seems that the gathering of ingredients has begun, but I'm not quite sure what happens from there. I'm also not sure what ingredients are going to be used on the final menu (?) story/stories (?) as people keep wanting different stuff attached to the letters (eh. so what else is new ). All of the suggestions perhaps? As all are equally good offerings. Here. Being naturally perverse, I'll add my ingredient. "J" is for jingoism.