short update

Sorry there's been no post for a while. My apartment internet was down for almost a week. Expect more posts soon. Also, thank you to anyone who is actually reading this- I know there's not that much yet to read. And, feel free to comment- or email me at lcbater@gmail.com with anything blog related.

Student Profile - Alfonso "Poncho" Vazquez

Age: 20
Hometown: Apple Valley, CA
Years Industry Experience: 4
Class: AOS Culinary Arts, Section 3

Start at the beginning, tell me how you got into cooking-
I guess I started by accident. I was in a band at the time and our guitar player was in a cooking class. I was in choir and didn’t want to be and he said, “Hey, this class if really fun.” So I switched classes and ended up really clicking with cooking. Through that, I got involved in a cooking competition. That threw me into a whole realm of things that I didn’t know. I spent basically my entire senior year devoted to restaurant class- everything from catering and banquets to pastry and advanced cooking. I actually lead a team of four people from my school to win the first place- I guess you could say medal- for the team cooking competition “Pro Start” that was put on by the NRA. Since we won, we got to go to Florida, for the national competition and we placed seventh overall. And then I graduated, and started working at a Spring Valley Lake Country Club. I did everything from prep to line cooking to buffet. I even did some breads and desserts.

Wow, sounds like, in a fairly short time, you’ve done a lot. After all that, what brought you to the CIA?
A few things. Everyone that I’ve always talked to… well, a friend of mine was going and I just got some info from different people. It’s actually not my first choice… I wanted to stay local and go to Scottsdale Culinary in Arizona. That’s where I was going to go but then that fell through and I heard about this place through that same cooking competition. I was actually the mentor for the class after I graduated- and that year the competition was out here at Greystone. So that was really cool, I got to see all of that and I met Thomas Keller. That’s how I found about this place.

After we graduate, what are your plans for the future?
Well, it’s kind of a long story. But, basically, my parents have run their own business since before I was born. That whole entrepreneur thing has been bred into me. I want to one day have my own place. I have some Spanish heritage so I want to go to Spain to check it out. Even if I don’t get to work there, I want to learn about the food. But basically, after school, I want to build up my resume and eventually have my own place. I’ve always like Spanish and Asian cuisines. Maybe I’ll fuse that together… but maybe that won’t happen. But exactly… I’m not sure. I know I don’t like working for someone else. But so far as making a name for myself, I just want to have a restaurant and it doesn’t matter if I become famous or not. I just want to have my own thing.

It seems like you’ve been really influenced by your heritage-
Well, it’s kind of sad because I don’t know much about that side. I know the Mexican side because that’s what I grew up with- all my aunts and uncles and relatives. I know Mexican food like the back of my hand, but I don’t really know much about Spanish stuff. I have one great aunt from Spain. I’ve never really had the chance to talk to her about food. There’s a little bit of a language barrier there…and with something as personal as food it’s hard to not be able to ask the right questions. But she’s from there she makes extremely good food.

Before we finish, tell me a little bit about cooking. What’s the best thing about food?
The best part about making food is that you can make it your own. It can be something that no one has ever tasted before.

Do you have a favorite food or preferred ingredient?
I like a lot of citrus. I’m a citrus guy. I like combining it and adding it to food. And I like lot of sweets.

How about an ingredient or dish you hate?
I don’t know… I don’t hate anything yet.

Weekend activity- Organic Garden

It wasn’t without a great sense of irony that I went to gardening club. Though I grew up in a family of farmers and my childhood back yard was filled by a vegetable garden, I know nothing about gardening. When I was in growing up, daily weeding, watering, and wading in dirt seemed like a lot of work just for the reward of having to eat zucchini everyday for two months. Of course, now that I am into sustainable, seasonal, and organic foods, I deeply regret not spending more time following my dad around with a wheelbarrow.

Three thousand miles away from the garden that I religiously avoided, I willing showed up to weed and plant the plot behind the Vineyard Lodge. I felt a little awkward as I needed to be told which plants were weeds and how to transplant the mizuna and pak choi. Thankfully, those there that were more knowledgeable were patient and willing to show me what to do.

After mucking around in the dirt, we sampled some of the garden’s many heirloom tomato varieties. We found grass, carrot, citrus, and even sausage notes in some of the tomatoes. While taste sampling, we also tested for sugar content. Dr. Chris Loss, the consummate food scientist, brought out his refractometer and we used it to measure brix.

It was only a couple hours, but, in that time, we managed to span the spectrum of hands-on to fairly scientific applications. I think I’m going to learn a lot in the garden – most importantly, that working with plants isn’t always a chore and that gardening can indeed be fun.

Art and Adria (Intro Gastronomy Journal 2)

When does food become “art” rather than “craft”? Is gastronomy an art form? I think it was Aristotle who claimed that food, unlike painting, poetry, music, and dance, could never be a true “art,” as it was born out of the base human need to sustain oneself. Even at the highest level, cuisine is still fulfilling a human bodily function. Has mere cooking been able to both satisfy hunger and exist on the intellectual and spiritual plane that other art forms manage to attain? Will it ever be able to?

My somewhat lacking knowledge of gastronomical history would lead me to believe that food has not been widely considered an art form. True, there have been geniuses in the world of cuisine. From Carême to Keller, however, these individuals are most often viewed as master craftsmen- much in the same way that Stickley or Stradivari were. It’s has been hard for me to believe that food can present a unique view of the world or that it could inspire the same emotional range as painting or poetry. Hard, however, not impossible to believe.

The more I read about aesthetics and the more I learn about food, the more I believe gastronomy could be art. In earlier ages, fine cuisine was no doubt appreciated by those at its table, and it has also employed certain artistic tenants- we meet food with our eyes before our mouths. I think, however, that chefs today are at a time of immense intellectual, gustatory, and artistic ferment. The culinary world today is awash with new ideas and philosophies. Chefs are currently capable of expressing a greater range of emotions and ideas through food, than they have ever been before. A dish can now elucidate the mechanics of food science or it could become an opus on sustainability. It can demonstrate the importance of tradition or the meeting of to two cultures.

I have to admit that it took me quite a while to warm up to “molecular gastronomy.” I dismissed it as “the faddiest of fads.” I couldn’t believe that dishes such as deconstructed onion soup or quince foam could be anything more than passing fancies. Since learning more about Ferran Adrià (and cuisine in general), I have changed my mind. My watered-down knowledge of molecular gastronomy came from food magazines and Top Chef . This is much the same as seeing a cartoon of a Monet and thinking that you’ve experienced the real deal.

In the case of Adrià’s creations, I’ve not been so lucky as to try them. I have, however, begun to learn more about the man and his ideas. In my mind, a meaningful and moving philosophy is the backbone of some of the greatest art. Those who review Adrià comment on how his dishes can balance a play of humor, irony, surprise, and pleasure. He has been quoted as saying that his ideal customer is one who “doesn't come to El Bulli to eat but to have an experience." Art is nothing if not experience.

After We Read McGee (Intro to Gastronomy: Journal 1)

Reading McGee’s On Food and Cooking got me thinking about how most Americans know and freely use terms such as “antioxidant,” “carbohydrate,” and “saturated and trans fats.” If you were to ask them what those terms really meant, though, all they could probably tell you is that certain words mean “bad for you” and others mean “buy more Vitamin Water.”

My family lives just outside of New York City where trans fats have recently been banned entirely. Civil liberties issues not withstanding, the whole city seems to support the move regardless of a general ignorance of the mechanics that apparently make the fats so egregious.

I support healthier eating but I also think that it must include more intelligent eating. As Americans become more aware of different ingredients and cuisines, they should start to look more deeply at what they are consuming rather than taking the claims on their cereal boxes at face value.

I am currently also reading Barry Glassner’s The Gospel of Food: Everything You Think You Know About Food Is Wrong. In his book, Glassner points out that a lot of the food studies that Americans take as established fact (oat bran decreases cholesterol, soy helps your heart, etc) are based on incredibly small study samples which, by nature of design, (it is very hard to have people control what they eat and to report accurately on it) are likely to have much greater statistical error than the FDA would like to admit. Most Americans are also unaware that much of the “good for you” information that product labels purport is the result of large agricultural corporations lobbying the FDA. For these concerns, profit, rather than public health, is a primary motive.

An excellent example of this is the recent appearance of soy-based foods marketed towards women as containing “isoflavones” which the products, rather ambiguously, say are “Great for Women’s Health!” Most Americans believe soy to be a miracle food. They probably do not realize however, that a great deal of their product information comes from directly from the elephantine soy industry whose lobbyists only have to present a certain number of case studies to the FDA in order to garner a particular product label. According to Glassner, there is virtually no way to police which studies they choose to present and which studies they choose to ignore. It seems fairly unlikely that detracting evidence would be included in any lobbying material. Most Americans assume soy to be a wonder food. They are unaware, however, that several studies have demonstrated that in high doses (which Americans are starting to consume) soy can negatively affect brain aging and have hormonal effects which demonstrate a certain level of carcinogenicity.

Perhaps, if more people took to reading books like McGee’s and Glassner’s they would take a greater interest in what the labels on their foods were really telling them. Maybe, they’ll learn what an antioxidant actually does. Hopefully, as more and more Americans become more interested in cuisine and the culinary arts, those days are not too far off.

Application Essay

In the short time that I’ve been cooking in professional kitchens, I’ve gathered quite a repertoire of culinary role models. Among the ranks that I revere are the prodigious chefs I’ve worked under, certain shrewd food writers and, of course, a few celebrity chefs. The pantheon of individuals who have influenced my culinary philosophy grows by the day. Most of the new arrivals can fit into at least one of the above mentioned categories. The man who I credit with greatest affect on my fledgling culinary philosophy, however, fits into none of them.

Richard Raney*, my culinary hero, works the pantry station at the Black Cat Bistro. Those who have not had the time to get to know Richard are likely to overlook or even avoid him. He started at the Black Cat after finishing a year in prison for some un-named felony. Though he will often cite his experiences “at the pen,” I have never found out what exactly it was that put him there. He carries his cell phone on him at all times and, in any given day, will have sent (during service) at least two dozen text messages to an equal number of women. Taking this uncharacteristic behavior for a role model into account, why on earth would I consider Richard a culinary influence? One reason- his pursuit constant perfection.

One night I walked over to his (always) impeccably clean station and watched him put together the most amazing charcuterie platter. It was just slices of sausage, pate, and some bread, but it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in a kitchen. Every meat slice was folded perfectly, every piece symmetrical. Your eye couldn’t help dancing around the platter. Richard stepped back from the plate, made an imaginary smacking motion, looked at me and said, “That shit, that’s crunk.”

And he was right, it was perfect. From that moment on, no matter what I was making in the kitchen, Richard would always be in the back of my mind telling me to make everything, no mater how mundane, as perfect (or as crunk) as possible.

I do not know where I where I will end up after I graduate from the CIA. In my dreams, I would be working in fine dining, learning and working my way up until I have the knowledge and experience to start my own successful restaurant. I know that lofty goal will be hard to attain, it may be decades after my graduation before it is realized. I also know, though, that wherever I am, whenever I’m cooking, I will always remember Richard. It doesn’t matter what it is I’m preparing or who it’s going out to. The relentless pursuit of excellence, that elusive goal, will keep me going during the longest and hottest kitchen hours.

*name changed for privacy

Here

Yesterday, while my mind was drifting during culinary math, Taylor turned to me and asked, “Do you ever stop to think how bizarre and amazing all this is? We’re in Napa Valley at the best cooking school there is.”

Though, moments before, I was concerned with calculating yield percentages, this statement snapped me back to an overwhelming yet remarkable reality: I am in Napa. I’m 3000 miles away from home, and I am ridiculously lucky.

There are nineteen of us in the second section of the AOS degree in the Culinary Arts at the Culinary Institute of America’s Greystone campus in St. Helena. We are only the second class to go through the CIA’s famed and highly respected associate degree program at the Greystone campus. I think every single one of us feels the same way – thrilled and terribly grateful to be here.

Before very recently, all CIA students went through the program at Hyde Park, NY. While I think we all would have been delighted to attend the New York program, we are twice fortunate to go to the CIA and to be in one of the world’s most exciting (and beautiful) culinary regions. Here, I’m surrounded by wineries, farmers markets, and many unparalleled restaurants – much of this within walking distance of my house. Palm trees stand in front of my cottage, figs grow in my backyard, and I can grow vegetables in my garden all year long. Coming from the comparatively grey New York area, I am very much aware of and enchanted by all that California has to offer.

Then there is, of course, the school itself. Located in the imposing fortress of the old Christian Brother’s winery, the Greystone campus would make the most extreme gastrophobe want to learn to cook. Industry experts walk the halls daily, attending conferences and workshops. The kitchens, the gorgeous kitchens, have the most beautiful equipment and appliances most in the trade will ever see. And, obviously, there are the teachers- most of whom not only have years of experience but also many advanced degrees.

Though I could wax poetic for hours about the school, its facilities, and its instructors, lest I appear to be brown nosing (even more than I already am), I’ll describe what I’ve learned about most since arriving here- my fellow students. There are nineteen of us. Oregon, Arkansas, California, Vermont, Alaska, and Hawaii are just some of the states we call home. Some of us have had years of culinary experience, others are trading careers in business for a new life. We range in age from eighteen to thirty. Though these facts might serve to divide us, I think that, overall, the nineteen are much more alike than dissimilar.

Certainly, we all share a passion for and obsession with food, but there’s more than that. For one thing, our class is much more highly educated and worldlier than I would have ever expected. Many of us have undergraduate degrees or have completed a good deal of tertiary education. All are thoroughly eloquent and competent students -our class discussion on organic agriculture spanned varied topics such as the chemical composition of fertilizer, economic externalities, and the logistics of food distribution. It seems that everyone has a million interesting things to say and countless talents to contribute.

It hasn’t even been three weeks since I’ve arrived at Greystone, but I already know that this is one of the best decisions I have made during my 22 years on this planet. As surprising, and perhaps blasphemous, as it may sound to some, I am more proud of my future degree here at Greystone than I am of my recently achieved bachelors from William and Mary. Here, I feel so close to the myriad opportunities that the culinary world has to offer. Here, I’m surrounded by what I love.