everything counts

sunday night, and it's raining in this small town of Colorno, Italy. I think I'm starting my fourth week here tomorrow? Who knows really. Time flies, very fast. The experiences I have on a daily basis seem enough to fill a whole week, and the experiences i have throughout a whole week are dizzying. I told my dad today (happy father's day, by the way) that in any given year i'm lucky to eat one or two food items that I can say are the absolute best versions i've ever had in my life. And in the past 48 hours I think I've had three or four specific foods that are the best i've ever had.

There is a lot that needs to be mentioned, so I'm gonna do it rapid-fire style. Tuesday, I walk into the demonstration room and there is an old woman with gray hair sitting in a wooden chair, patiently making orecchietti by hand. This old woman's daughter, chef Antonella Ricci, is standing in front of the stove, ready to represent the region of Puglia. We were treated to homemade cured meats and fresh burrata cheese (burrata cheese is like a bath of creamy mozzarella strands inside a pouch of shiny fresh mozzarella skin, or basically heaven). I had ricotta gnocchi on this day that may have changed my life. They were so soft and delicate, I feel like the stakes have been permanently raised as far as gnocchi is concerned.

Wednesday we were in the kitchen all day, and I feel like although this is the reason I'm here, I have hardly talked about it. The kitchen. Home. Our classroom. One thing that our chef-instructor mentioned over and over again in our first few days in the kitchen was "everything counts." He kept saying this, sometimes loudly, sometimes under his breath. He meant that there are countless distinct moments in the process of making a dish, and they all matter equally. We aim for perfection, which is never fixed, it's elusive and always changing. But with attention to every detail, we aim to achieve consistently excellent food. that's the goal.

Yeesh, I'm losing steam quickly and I've barely covered anything. A lasagna dish we made featuring tiny hand-cut pieces of seared tender meat, the best fritto misto i've ever eaten in my life (and it was made by me, a sole that I filleted myself, red mediterranean shrimp that are so fresh and sweet, artichoke, eggplant, tomato, sage and parsley leaves, all fried delicately in a very gentile rice-flour batter that barely clings to the food). Late night adventures in Parma with a visiting chef from New York and another head chef from Italy, 25 year old aged balsamic vinegar that is transcendent and beautiful and aged in wooden barrels. A master cheese maker in a tiny town near the adriatic sea. Hundreds of culatello hanging in the basement of Chef Massimo Spigaroli's castle... I need to stop. The Italian world cup game was this afternoon and the truth is i've been drinking wine since noon. I'll try and write more frequently. I'm dazzled, inspired, unable to fully describe all that i've seen and experienced, and now i'm gonna go to bed.