reflection

what do i want?

I want to be a part of a social movement focused on access to local, seasonal, organic meals. I want to cook in spaces that encourage strangers to sit together, talk together, enjoy together. I want to cook food that makes people say "wow!" I want to cook with like-minded people. I want collaboration. I want food to blend with revelry, I want revelry to be found within a life of hard work and focus and dedication, I want to live amongst friends, I want time for myself, I want beauty and adventure, I want to share my favorite things with you, I want knowledge of cooking deep within my bones so that I can conjure food magic at any moment, with my eyes closed if I felt like it. I want to feed a hundred hungry new yorkers with speed and grace, i want to feed a few dear friends slowly and with grace.

Now, this is gonna feel like a non-sequitur, but it will come back around to "what i want," so just hang on...

Certain foods in Italy are given the status of "denominazione di origine controllata" (DOP). DOP status is given to regional specialty foods in order to recognize these foods as unique and to prevent competitors from misleading consumers with imitation products. For example, Parmigiano-Reggiano must by law be made in a specific way and come from the specific region around Parma, or else it cannot be called Parmigiano-Reggiano (there are inspectors and regulators and everything, it's all very official).

When a food gains DOP status, something is gained (the celebration of a unique regional product, the outlawing of imitators) but something is also lost, as DOP status often leads to an increased level of mass-production and standardization. There can be a decrease in artisan skills, ancient tools and methods, variety. The word sterilization comes to mind.

Now, DOP products are certainly much better than the average food you will find in the average supermarket in the United States (processed foods made with corn syrup, factory farm produce treated with a healthy dose of chemicals, genetically modified food). And DOP status does not always signify a subtle movement towards standardization and mass production (I had an absolutely beautiful DOP balsamic vinegar from Reggio Emilia that was aged for years and years in wooden barrels in the attic of an old farmhouse and sold in small batches), but I believe it often does.

The exciting part - there are food bandits in Italy. Local artisans who do not care to be widely recognized and do not seek DOP status. All they do is make beautiful cheese or wine or salumi, and share it with their neighbors and friends. I've been lucky enough to have raw milk goat cheese from Tuscany, white wine from the mountains of Veneto, handmade salumi from Le Marche. But, stumbling upon these products requires luck, knowledgable friends, and more luck. Additionally, these food bandits seem to be spread thin throughout the country of Italy. They're like isolated beacons of hope and goodness.

I yearn for more collaboration among food bandits, I want restaurants run by food bandits or at the very least run by friends of food bandits. And I'm not sure that this sort of culture or collaboration exists in Italy.

Where are the food bandits and the local markets and the restaurants all intertwined? Where do cooks and artisans and farmers seem to inspire one another and create what feels like a tangible food movement? Brooklyn! My home! All the inspiring people seem to know each other, the green market folks and the artisan chocolate makers and the butchers of local animals and the cooks and the rooftop gardeners and the pirate radio people and the food truck vendors and the farmers. I think that something is happening in New York that doesn't exist in Italy. Or al least, if it exists in Italy, I have not been able to find it in sustained doses. The sad part is, I no longer expect to find it in sustained doses. I think I feel defeated on that front.

I don't know what I expected to find here in Italy. A legion of grandmothers who could teach me fantastic culinary secrets in only two months despite my inability to speak or understand very much italian. Communities of young folks who cook with inspiration using bandit ingredients and methods. Young bandits and old grandmothers working together to teach me all their secrets. This does not exist.

So, why am I in Italy? That's what I've been asking myself. I've learned about local products, cooking techniques, the balancing of flavors and textures and colors, presentation, professionalism. But what do I want to learn? In the absence of the food bandit culture which I want so badly, I will learn fresh pasta. I will work hard, try not to feel too lonely or isolated, and gain some skill. Unfortunately, I think that's the best I can hope for.

Starting soon, I'll be working in a tiny town (4,500 people) sort of vaguely near Parma. My school tells me that I'll have the chance to learn fresh pasta here.

I hope that the food in my new kitchen is exciting, imaginative, and inspired. But who knows.

The most exciting part about food, for me, is sharing it with people, and telling the story of the bandits and farmers and artisans and cooks who made it all possible. For this, I might have to wait until November, when I come home.