Friday, October 8, 2010

Three Cheers for Rene!


As I have said before, I love cookbooks, and few things get me as excited as the release of a new one that has been on my radar for some time. NOMA by Rene Redzepi dropped this week, which to most people means nothing, but to me was a very big deal. Quick breakdown as told by the press: Rene Redzepi (chef/owner) is a genius, NOMA has defined an entire regional cooking style (Nordic), ranked #1 in S. Pelligrinos 2010 50 Best Restaurants list (a big deal to say the least), NOMA's food is strictly comprised of ingredients that are native to Denmark and the surrounding countries (save for exceptions like chocolate and coffee), etc., etc. With that out of the way, I can talk about what I think is the most important thing in the book, purity. The truth is I will most likely never recreate a single recipe in this massive tome, both for lack of equipment (unless someone cares to purchase a Thermomix and Vacuum Sealer for my amusement), and lack of ingredients (buckthorn berries and such). But I really don't think that matters, because within its pages NOMA holds a bounty of inspiration that can be taken to any home kitchen.
The story of how the restaurant developed is amazing, and the pictures perfectly capture the amazing plating skills of Redzepi. But what really comes through as the pages are turned is the idea that food should really taste of itself. How can a cook most honor the ingredients at hand, making them as delicious as possible? How does seasonality go from being a buzz word at the latest restaurant opening, to a storyline that allows the cook, and subsequently the eater, to appreciate the bounty of any region? It is this purity of intention, and purity of ingredients that makes NOMA such a compelling read. "A sense of time and place" is a quote that can be referenced in just about any article on Redzepi, and it is important not to overlook the power of that statement. Believe me when I tell you that I am not a diehard locavore by any stretch of the imagination, but I am strongly drawn to the idea that every place has a bounty of ingredients that can help the cook find their own voice. After all, it is easy to be a great cook when you have a perfectly ripe tomato. When I go to the farmer's market I really try to take in the signs of the changing seasons, the smells that abound, the farmers that have produced the very things that I am taking home in my bag. It becomes much easier to tell a story when you have really soaked in the backdrop that it springs from. The only unfortunate aspect of the book is its ability to remind us of how far we have drifted from this ideal.

No comments:

Post a Comment