Food Memories

I believe one of FOODs greatest powers lies in its ability to evoke images and memory.

The culinary experience and artistry - like all art - can carry great depth and transcend the moment.  This is illustrated if your mind and soul has ever escaped back to a time, place or occasion, because of something as simple and unexpected as a few ingredients mixed and stirred tip-toeing across your tongue.

(Now that your palate is moist, click below to taste some more of this fantastic post!)





At LCB, many of us are making these foods or at the very minimum learning these specific culinary techniques for the first time.  Some of us may be new to some of the actual dishes; this is not the case for me as both my mind and belly can attest to the fact that I am well familiar and have a basis for comparison with the majority of what has been presented.  With this comes memories.

When we have learned how to make French Bread I remembered not just any loaf from any trip taken to France, but a specific trip with my best friend in a small town off of the southern French coast next to the Spanish border.   We were lured into the only bakery in town by smell upon opening and listened to the crunch of well done French Bread enjoyed with a fresh hunk of brie.  The moment with the perfect bread was shared on the the beach watching the sun rise, fisherman prepare for the day, and await our train to take us further down coast.


Maybe making a simple humus in the food processor has sent you back on a journey either through the Middle East or around town in restaurants locally in South Florida or NY; every area, culture etc. makes it a little different.  That said, a humus in Sunny Isles or the Village would have to be pretty special to trump humus memories of a small town in the dessert night with some freshly baked pita and a nice hookah to follow.

For better or for worse, just as people have baggage, so too does that plate that you present to your customer ... as everything and every experience has something attached.   

My thought is that your data base of information and memories can work to your benefit to be even more amazing in this profession.

It gives you that edge to create something that stands out:  something special, better and different.  Use your memories to help create and resurrect that WOW FACTOR for others. 

Nevertheless, the purpose of this entry was actually to share a specific memory that came to mind last week while making our first Butter Cream cakes in Baking class.



The base of the cake is a simple vanilla cake.  This is to say, the product naked before trimmed, moistened with syrup and liquor, and layered, filled and topped with raspberry and French Butter Cream... is a fairly plain but tasty white cake.

I could have sworn if I subtracted the vanilla (& changed the texture and a little bit of the taste... heheh) the cake was a spitting image of my Grandmother's famous sponge cake which appeared religiously at just about every holiday gathering.
     
I believe my Grandmother (who we will now reference as NAN)'s sponge cake was special and not so much her cookies, apple or honey cakes or even the other food or side dishes prepared... for the following reasons:

ONE:  Every holiday Nan always made at least a half dozen sponge cakes.  She could never just make one.  She would bring at least one for the table for the holiday gathering and prepare the others by wrapping them in a certain way in wax paper, tin foil, as well as a plastic baggie to give away to our very small immediate family.  Although our family was small the cakes were always labeled with the recipients name to make her distribution of the extra cakes as orderly as possible.

TWO:  All holidays had a plethora of dessert to choose from.  Most members around the table would opt their first choice to be a new store bought cake, pie, fruit or frozen treat.  However, before all or anything else I always enjoyed a piece of sponge cake with Nan and let it be known to her that it was always the best dessert on the table.

Nan (in her ninth decade now) hasn't baked for a bit but I relayed the fond memory to her recently and as we strolled down sponge cake lane she asked about how Sam (my 4 1/2 year old) is enjoying my creations.  I said that aside from becoming quite the little critic himself issuing a thumbs up or thumbs down on every dish, dessert and side that is presented to him he is loving it especially when he proudly shares with his classmates at pre-school - e.g., the class devoured chocolate moose cups and cake the other day!



As Nan talked about the sponge cake, baking, and Sam with food, her own childhood food memory (completely unsolicited) came to mind and she shared.  She told me a great story from when she was around 10 years old.  The story was vivid and detailed; it involved her mother (or my great grandmother whom I know little about), baking danish, an incident at Nan's school and how the baked goods saved the day.

The details of Nan's story are mine (or you'll have to ask her yourself if you ever have the privilege).

That said, I am certain that FOOD has demonstrated its POWER in its full glory when I made this cake.