What I Believe about Food

I’ve been thinking about what went wrong the dish I attempted last week. From a blogging standpoint, it wasn't a problem that the dish failed. In spite of what I said, I don’t need every dish to turn out perfectly in order to write about it. But what I've been contemplating is why the dish failed. Something was not true about the experience, from choosing the ingredient to cooking to writing, true in the sense of being “straight on,” the way a redwood trunk is true, or a carpenter’s ruler is true.

I’ve figured out the problem. The dish I was trying to make was not true to me. It wasn’t a reflection of a style of food I know and love. It’s not that I can’t or won’t ever cook Indian dishes. It’s not that I shouldn’t try new things. We all should, of course. That’s how we grow. But the problem with my presenting tandoori to you was that I was doing it in an effort to be exotic. I was trying to spellbind you with a foodie buzzword. And that wasn’t true.

I do hope to cook real tandoori-style food. But the next time I write about it, it will be because you and I can trust the ingredients and techniques the way I present them.

All this thinking of writing about food that is true to me has made me want to share with you my food point of view. It’s simple, really. I believe that good food tastes, feels, and looks good and brings people together, whether they are reading about it, preparing it side by side, or eating it around a table or standing together at the counter. Good food is central to many good conversations and familial experiences. Eating does not have to be a matter of simply fueling up. Connecting with people around food can be an emotionally enriching experience, a gift from God who is in the business of “filling our hearts with food and gladness” (Acts 14:17 KJV).

And so the first element of my food point of view is taste. Good food isn’t too salty, or not salty enough. Its own flavors come through, heightened by the presence of the right amount of salt. Good food has no “off” flavors caused by old ingredients. It is not cloying. It does not taste like the can it may have come out of. There are no harsh or caustic notes. Perhaps we have come to accept that some foods, such as coffee, grapefruit, or Italian olive oil, are supposed to be bitter. I don’t accept that assumption. The food I enjoy and serve to others should be neither bitter nor bland. No matter if sweet, savory, buttery, or strong, a dish’s flavors are in perfect harmony. A certain flavor may dominate, but its partner flavors complement and complete it. That is food that tastes good.

Beyond taste, I also consider texture. When you eat my food, you’ll encounter a variety of textures that meet your expectations of the dish. The roasted chicken will be tender and juicy and will have crisp skin. The crème brûlée will give you a full-mouth feeling from its inherent fat, but there will also be shards of caramelized sugar to crunch. In minestrone, the beans and vegetables will be firm yet yielding. The texture will be as you’d expect to find it. But you’ll also be surprised by things as simple as crispy bacon lardons in a bowl of potato leek soup.

Taste and texture addressed, I must also touch on presentation, about which many cooks and chefs have said, “You eat first with your eyes.” When you see the food, it will look good, and the sight of it will start your mouth watering, thus preparing you already for the experience of tasting. Presentation of food starts with color. If food is cooked properly, its color will be appealing. A little knowledge of the color wheel will help you put foods of contrasting and complementary colors together. How the food is arranged on the serving dish is a matter of the cook’s skill and knowledge of design, but these things can be learned through observation and practice. And some foods need no formal plating at all. It’s a wonderful thing to eat hot pasta, or hash, or scrambled eggs containing softened bits of cream cheese right out of the pan.

Above all, the food I want to cook and eat, and the food I want to share with you is food that comes out of my strengths, skills, and knowledge. That is not to say that I won’t or can’t learn new styles. But learning takes time and is not accomplished by picking up one bottle of something from the store. Learning to cook well comes from study, from practice, from making mistakes and taking risks and eventually preparing dishes that disappear in much less time than they took to put together. When I have done that, when you have done that, we know our cooking is true. And that’s a fine feeling indeed.

Now on to the recipe and the explanation for these glorious photos, which I hope did not distract you too much. I’ve been making this recipe for 10 years. It’s not my recipe, but was written by Sharon Landeen and published in Taste of Home magazine in 1999. The only thing I added was a handful of peanuts. My recipe card is splotched and crumpled, but, oh, it’s still good. Yes, it’s still very good.

Caramel Corn (adapted from Taste of Home)

6 quarts popped popcorn

½ cup dry roasted, salted peanuts

2 cups packed brown sugar

1 cup butter

½ cup corn syrup

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon baking soda

Have ready two greased 13- x 9-inch baking dishes and heat your oven to 250˚ Divide the popcorn and the peanuts between two large bowls and set aside. In a sauce pan, combine the brown sugar, butter, corn syrup, and salt. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Boil for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. But watch the pan, because the bubbling mixture will expand; you don’t want it to boil over. After 5 minutes, remove the pan from the heat and stir in the salt and vanilla extract. It will bubble violently for a while, but as you stir, the bubbles will subside and the caramel sauce will take on a voluptuous and creamy texture. Working quickly, pour half the mixture over the popcorn and peanuts in each bowl. Stir thoroughly. Scoop the popcorn into the waiting baking dishes and bake, uncovered, for 45 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes. Cool the caramel corn and store it in an airtight container.