Not very long ago I was asked to pen an editorial for a local publication. Perhaps due to space issues, or possibly general suckiness, it wasn't published. What I said was important to me and for that reason, here is is. I think food is very important and I'd like it to be taken (more) seriously by those that eat it and those that make it. It is at a very deep level something that defines us throughout a wide range of specificity. What we eat tells our story as a species, culturally and even as individuals by the food we enjoy (or don't), our allergies, our religious restrictions and our "world famous mac and cheese/pasta salad/iced tea recipes". Food is something to be thoughtful about and preserved because as little as we consider it in the process, we put it inside of ourselves to our benefit or detriment.
Matt
In the beginning there was chef, chief of the kitchen. He ruled with an iron fist, creating recipes,
teaching and managing staff and controlling quality throughout the process of a
restaurant’s prep and service. At it’s basic
level, for decades, that was the backbone of the job title “Chef”.
In the last ten years, we’ve seen the expansion of the
responsibilities of a chef to include celebrity, writer and activist. Recently, especially in the south we’ve begun
to see a new breed of chef as historian.
Chefs like Sean Brock have made it a mission, engrained in the deepest
part of their businesses, to maintain and preserve the food traditions of the
south and investigate where they come from.
More than that, it’s a push to save actual ingredients from
extinction. Brock painstakingly saves
and catalogues heritage seeds and seeks out old breeds of animals native to the
south. It’s a brave old world.
Take the Southern Foodways Alliance. It’s a group that’s dedicated to studying and
preserving the food culture of the south.
That’s an incredible concept that really shouldn’t be
revolutionary. From the dawn of
humanity, the food we’ve eaten has been an integral influence on the way that
we’ve lived our lives. Food has been a major
factor in both the uplifting and downfall of entire societies. Why shouldn’t it be viewed as one of the most
important ways we document history?
It makes me wonder about the food traditions of the Midwest. I’m from the Midwest, and I don’t know what
they are. Do they even exist? Are they being lost to a reputation as big
chain guinea pigs?
Therein lies the opportunity, as yet undefined, for all of
us chefs here in Central Ohio. There are
many ways to go about defining a tradition.
For the more studious among us, the culinary traditions of
the Midwest are rich, hearty and ancient.
Like Brock, we could dig into the history of our state and work to
preserve and grow our knowledge and refine the dishes of old, drawing from the
state’s old German and Polish roots, or for the more intrepid among us, the
roots that sink even deeper.
There are also infinite new and progressive combinations and
perspectives to explore while still pulling from the rich agriculture
surrounding us. With a community of cooks and chefs, we could
explore avant garde techniques paired with heritage ingredients and eek out our
own food traditions unique to our home.
With the burgeoning diversity of our city, the entire world can be the palette
we use to paint an enduring picture of the city we love.
When people talk about food in Columbus, all too often it’s
in regard to some new import from another city or opening a New York or Chicago
style restaurant in our city. I’m all
for developing a Columbus Style and staking our claim to our own bounty and
culinary heritage.
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