So my work and extracurricular blogging worlds collided last week, when we had a chef in town to conduct some culinary diplomacy. Chef Floyd Cardoz is kind of a big deal: http://floydcardoz.com/about/. He’s also the soul of graciousness, chatting food, diaspora, and other issues with me, and providing gentle, constructive mentoring to culinary students. I got to participate with him in a tasting in which 11 pairs of students prepared mains and desserts using American ingredients, such as walnuts, blueberries, and maple syrup. It’s always fascinating to me to taste what international cooks consider to be “American food.” Apparently they think we like a lot of sugar and big portions, and they’re not exactly wrong, if our chain restaurants are anything to go by. Some of the dishes were creative and delicious; others were less successful. I can’t imagine being a first- or second-year culinary school student and having to cook for a master in the field, so a hearty congrats to the talented group for putting on a terrific showing.
Chef Cardoz talked about his dislike of molecular gastronomy and “getting cute” in the kitchen, but was strongly in favor of fusion when done well. At one point he mentioned that for samosas at his restaurant, he uses pate a brise dough and a sheeter, and bakes instead of frying. I might have actually been enough of a fangirl to respond, “Chef, you’re blowing my mind!”
In addition to the cooking contest for the students, we got a tour of their college, and then I was briefly in conversation with Chef Cardoz on stage. He underscored the importance of passion and commitment, noting that skills can be taught, but he looks for the light in someone’s eyes when recounting a favorite childhood dish. His own last meal, he said, would be his mom’s Xacuti and prawn curry. In our offline chat, I was thrilled to learn that he likes Bengali food. We talked about how it’s one of few Indian food traditions with “courses” and how I need to “budget” rice with each item so as to try everything relatives cook with love. We also shared a taste for “lau chhechki,” a dish made from the peels of lau/lauki (a local squash) and bits of pumpkin, me because my grandmother made it, and Chef because he loved the no-waste ethos.
And since the event, every other sentence to my husband has been “Chef said…” Honestly, it reminded me of my father’s everlasting shame from when Niels Bohr came to their campus in Kolkata. One of the professors introduced himself to Dr. Bohr and said, “I’m fishizist too!” (He was trying to articulate, “I’m a physicist, too.”) . I sincerely hope I didn’t come across as that inept and goofy.
Regardless, since Chef Cardoz’s visit, I’ve been thinking a lot about fusion cuisine, and feeling a bit inspired, and that is what leads us to… the last post in this series. Come back for it!