good days were full, because if someone does not know, here you work and you do not fuck. It was rebuilt around the menu. The construction of a menu in India requires us to remember the vegetarians. And it is something normal in the West miss a chef thinks. It is possible that people do not abbotti of cured meat, meat and eggs. How do you live on vegetables? asks a shocked chef normal.
Now after two years I knew those two things and I split the menu into three categories: vegetarian, di carne e di pesce.
Ho la mania (vezzo?) di scrivere il menù mettendo l'articolo alle pietanze (tipo: Il filetto di manzo con la purea di patate agli agrumi) ed è un vezzo (mania?) che ho ereditato da Carla Sozzani (10CorsoComo a Milano, dove ho passato quasi tre anni della mia vita professionale). Devo dire che ha faticato molto a convincermi ma con il senno di poi penso avesse ragione. L'articolo dà un'identità al piatto, lo impreziosisce e gli conferisce importanza.
Dopo aver scritto il menù si va alla costruzione del piatto: cosa ci sta dentro, quanto e come.
Il cosa: le materie prime. Il quanto: la grammatura. Il come: l'estetica.
This seems so simple and easy. In truth is the work of preparation of raw materials research, the size, cooking, presentation building your own kitchen. Then you can also copy one thousand thousand recipes and menus, but ultimately not worth it, it costs you double trouble, because the dish that you've seen you can never reproduce it faithfully. Perhaps the colors and assemblers. Perhaps, but then there is the indisputable fact that every chef has his own taste and his well-defined palate. And if you want to copy, Where's My Car type that you see a photo taken on a restaurant in Italy and you're in another part of the world (eg egotic in India), you know that stuff you'll ever NOT to do. Because you can never find that cut of beef, or beef. You can never have that wonderful salad, in India you to forget the salad, we can make dreams on the salad. And 'here that takes the nostalgia of products unavailable, herbs and semi-unknown Give yourself the solitude of primate, which is exhausting looking at the horizon of the Desert of the Tartars. You want to convince yourself that indeed, the only thing you have is their loneliness, because you're always in the midst of the people / customers and live with the brigade (ie all components of the kitchen that cut and cooked for you and you're in steps and check that the dishes are as photos taken months earlier, alias standardization of the product). Would you like to say, and undo and redo and control and angry and curse and do it. And the alienation you feel, every time it gets to the customer table, you, primate smiling (obviously not with the fake smile that realize it but subitosubito hoisting the smile that you truly believe in it, if not, it makes little sense ) when you realize in a split second of the numbers that you had to do, so this dish is so beautiful, I said that strange, turns in a bang and again in solitude. A human being, that human is not long enough, you do not know how, because you've turned into a toy car producing very profescional. Especially guess that the dish there was not worth all the effort and enthusiasm that both disappear within 10 minutes. The rifarai thousand times, always the same, saying the same things, always pissed for the same reasons, but the food always disappears. This blinding awareness brings you subtly to give numbers, which are never the first, nor second. In fact they are no longer numbers are just food, millions of meals that disappear, eat, eaten, washed, criticized or appreciated.
was to say that I finished reading Solitude of Prime Numbers. indigestible?
E 'because before I had eaten Infinite Jest . That it is a flat built so well and so smooth that we can find in a single sentence in all the flavors of the world. To say.
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