Maybe it’s because I’m Roman, or simply because I grew up with a home kitchen made of garlic, parsley, and rosemary. Or perhaps it’s because I tend not to use overly constructed or “manufactured” language. Or maybe, quite simply, because of my character, I find it more natural to express myself in a way that can be easily understood.
I’m referring to the language and gestures often used by TV chefs and, more broadly, by anyone who talks about cooking through television and various media. In other words, those recurring clichés you encounter when dealing with “top chefs” and their mannerisms.
Today I feel like reflecting on those “postures”—not the right word, perhaps, but it’s the one that comes to mind—that always leave me a bit unsatisfied, or at least wondering: “…couldn’t they have said or done it in a more natural way?”
Indefinite quantities
I’m talking about the way undefined quantities are described: “…some butter,” “…some tomato,” “…some sugar.” I would find it more natural to say “add a bit of butter,” or “use a small amount of salt,” or “add a sprig of rosemary.” I might be wrong, but when a French chef says “du beurre…” it sounds very cool. To me, though, it feels more natural to give a clearer shape to that vague “some.” And above all, I don’t think using “some” makes you any better.
Spoon by spoon vs. just pouring
Pouring a liter of tomato sauce from a bowl into a pan apparently must be done one spoonful at a time. I’d love to see you in your everyday kitchen… Why not just tip the bowl and be done with it? Again, perhaps spooning it in makes you more refined and elegant.
If there’s no blood…
If you can’t see some redness—or at least a good hint of it—in the meat, then you’re not a good chef. Now, I personally don’t like things overcooked, but I often sit at the table with friends and have no problem saying that a good 50% of diners don’t enjoy rare meat. So maybe—just maybe—we could accept that some people prefer it well done?
Sweetbreads and kidneys
Apparently, if your menu doesn’t include sweetbreads, kidneys, or various offal, it’s not truly gourmet. Possibly priced like truffles, too. But tripe? No—that’s not “elegant,” so we leave it to the trattorias of Testaccio and Trastevere.
Texture
The word “texture” has now entered the vocabulary of anyone who feels they need to say something about a dish. A perfect escape route for those who need to comment without really knowing what to say.
Am I wrong? Probably. But the return to humble, traditional dishes like amatriciana, carbonara, and pasta e fagioli makes me think that a return to simpler language might be just around the corner—language made more of substance than of “attitude.” 🙂
