Okay, so I love Nigella Lawson. I love her accent. I love her old-school Italian looks. I love that she studied at Oxford. I love that she uses the word "bolstering" in on-air 3 minute segments. (I do not always love her recipes, but that in no way diminishes my desire to be her new best friend.)
I wanted to share this little interview because I think Nigella (if I may be permitted to be so familiar) hits it on the head when she talks about our fear of not being professionals. While we are, as a country, running around trying to find the most common man to run for the highest office (President Obama aside, who is anything but your "Average Joe"), we are putting others on the expert pedestal who do not belong there. We are so afraid of being exposed that we look for, and create, experts to follow.
As in other aspects of one's life, this act is disenfranchising. It produces a fear in the individual that he or she doesn't know and in fact has no business doing what is most basic, most necessary, and at times, most intuitive (feeding oneself, raising children, making the bed, etc...).
And here is the best part: WE DO IT TO OURSELVES. We believe the "experts." We do not call bulls**t. We do not own that which is most basic to our survival.
Let us all be, in our personal lives, what Nigella refers to as passionate amateurs. Let us, like MFK Fischer, learn about food and life and love through living openly, passionately, hungrily.
And, for heaven's sake, let us respect, not fear, expertise when it presents itself. Right now we have it backwards: We want experts in the kitchen and average Joes in the White House. My New Years wish for us is that we right ourselves...that we eat and vote with eyes wide open!
06 December 2010
02 December 2010
Methyl Iodine
Not sure what to say about this. (Not because I have nothing to say- that does not happen-but because I am not sure how to organize my thoughts.)
I am worried for the farming communities exposed to toxins of all kinds and I want us, as a state and a country, to be moving away from the use of toxins (and genetically modified products) in our food production process.
I do not like Tokyo-based chemical brands potentially infecting migrant California workers because I do not see any hope in that equation for reparations or justice.
With our limited state budget, I think that the reliance on oversight as the primary means by which to control the unhealthy spread of this toxin is naive at best and dishonest at worst.
And I am concerned about the health ramifications of eating foods produced in soils treated by this toxin. And because it can become airborne, I do not see a surefire method for completely avoiding the ingestion of it.
Bad job, California. Bad job.
01 December 2010
Mary Frances Got It Right
I am probably going to get lambasted for this post. But what the hell...it's only words, right?! :-P I think that there is real value in caring for others. I take great comfort in feeding people, in helping them feel at home and welcome, and in producing for a moment a microcosm of the kind of world I would like to live in. And here come the critiques:
The desire to care for others in a maternal fashion is merely the result of thousands of years of a certain narrative being forced upon women to keep them subservient.
If I want the kind of world where everyone is welcome, feels at home, is well feed and cared for qua individual, why don't I join the Peace Corps or run for office or do something (anything!) besides baking cookies and making cocktails?
Isn't this just the glorification of the commodifying of care?
And so on and so forth....
To those critiques I answer: maybe, I guess I could and absolutely.
So why am I okay with this? Let me start with critique number two. MFK Fischer (and I am paraphrasing here) wrote in response to a similar critique that when she writes (or in my cases makes) food and drink she is also writing about love and affection and the need for it and the lack of it; That it is not out of a desire to escape all that is hard and cold in our world that one turns ones attention to the kitchen, but rather with the intention of making an impact on it, however small that impact may be. There are many ways to heal the world's wounds. This is one, and the one that feels most natural and effective to me.
Returning to number one, I suppose it may be true that what I feel deeply is really just thousands of years of training. But it feels real to me and I cannot afford enough therapy to undo that much training, so there it is.
And lastly: Yes, it is, at root, a commodifying of care. You come to my home or my bar and I give you a product. That physical product cost something to produce and in the case of coming to my business I will have to charge you for it. In the process of making the product and serving the product I show you care. You are not charged for that care but it is part of our brand and nine times out of 10, you will tip based on that feeling. Is this f***ed up? Yes. Wouldn't it be better if commerce will not involved? Probably. But I want to live near my family and I want to make enough money to help support my not yet nuclear family, so I choose to engage in the commodifying of care. It is up to you whether you believe that care is sincere or not.
The desire to care for others in a maternal fashion is merely the result of thousands of years of a certain narrative being forced upon women to keep them subservient.
If I want the kind of world where everyone is welcome, feels at home, is well feed and cared for qua individual, why don't I join the Peace Corps or run for office or do something (anything!) besides baking cookies and making cocktails?
Isn't this just the glorification of the commodifying of care?
And so on and so forth....
To those critiques I answer: maybe, I guess I could and absolutely.
So why am I okay with this? Let me start with critique number two. MFK Fischer (and I am paraphrasing here) wrote in response to a similar critique that when she writes (or in my cases makes) food and drink she is also writing about love and affection and the need for it and the lack of it; That it is not out of a desire to escape all that is hard and cold in our world that one turns ones attention to the kitchen, but rather with the intention of making an impact on it, however small that impact may be. There are many ways to heal the world's wounds. This is one, and the one that feels most natural and effective to me.
Returning to number one, I suppose it may be true that what I feel deeply is really just thousands of years of training. But it feels real to me and I cannot afford enough therapy to undo that much training, so there it is.
And lastly: Yes, it is, at root, a commodifying of care. You come to my home or my bar and I give you a product. That physical product cost something to produce and in the case of coming to my business I will have to charge you for it. In the process of making the product and serving the product I show you care. You are not charged for that care but it is part of our brand and nine times out of 10, you will tip based on that feeling. Is this f***ed up? Yes. Wouldn't it be better if commerce will not involved? Probably. But I want to live near my family and I want to make enough money to help support my not yet nuclear family, so I choose to engage in the commodifying of care. It is up to you whether you believe that care is sincere or not.
30 November 2010
Concoctions
(Click on the title to go to the article) Great little article on the art of cocktailing. It is about time with your spirits and time spent pursuing your craft...but mostly it is about making a damn good drink for your guests and keeping your ego out of it! :-)
09 November 2010
NEW BLOG!!!!
Hi all:
I have begun a blog and a book club for my forthcoming venture, Two Sisters Bar and Books. Take a look, join and follow, or just grab November's book and have fun!
http://2sistersbarandbooks.blogspot.com
I have begun a blog and a book club for my forthcoming venture, Two Sisters Bar and Books. Take a look, join and follow, or just grab November's book and have fun!
http://2sistersbarandbooks.blogspot.com
09 August 2010
Swordfish
Last night I steamed aritchokes from the farmer's market and served them with a little butter, alongside broiled swordfish with a caper and tomato dressing (also care of the farmer's market) and lemon rice. We drank a local Sauvignon Blanc. For dessert, apple crisp made with apples from the yard.
A few weeks ago I was asked what my relationship to the 'locovore movement' entailed. This, of course, got me thinking. I have been witness to and made several defenses of the 'movement' predicated on it's relationship to the environment, equity of resources, health benefits, marketing strategy, etc. But each time I encounter these defenses and explanations, they seem, to my heart, to miss the mark.
Rather my relationship to this 'movement' developed very early and for no other reason than I was (and still am) a romantic. When I was about eight-years-old, I developed a fascination with the Laura Ingles Wilder books. I read about these young girls making butter from the skimmings off of milk fresh from their cows, syrup from the sap of maples during the big winter, baked beans in the fire all night and I wanted to be like them. So, I poured over my Shepard's Seeds catalogue, picked my varietals and went to work. For several years I kept a kitchen garden, made apple cider vinegar from the remains of pie apples, learned to sew, knit and crochet, and yes, twice I made my own butter.
What I discovered is that food from one's own garden tastes better. I did not use pesticides simply because I did not know about them. But my tomatoes were sweeter than any I had tasted before, my potatoes more buttery. My puny corn had a freshness that I did not know corn could have. My haricot verts were a crispy dream.
I understand and can appreciate the various defenses of and justifications for the 'locovore movement' and I am certainly on board with most of them. But for me, long before politics and marketing strategies, there was Laura and my little garden and the discovery that fresh food was a magical world unto itself. More than politics, more than prestige, being a 'locovore' is a privilege.
A few weeks ago I was asked what my relationship to the 'locovore movement' entailed. This, of course, got me thinking. I have been witness to and made several defenses of the 'movement' predicated on it's relationship to the environment, equity of resources, health benefits, marketing strategy, etc. But each time I encounter these defenses and explanations, they seem, to my heart, to miss the mark.
Rather my relationship to this 'movement' developed very early and for no other reason than I was (and still am) a romantic. When I was about eight-years-old, I developed a fascination with the Laura Ingles Wilder books. I read about these young girls making butter from the skimmings off of milk fresh from their cows, syrup from the sap of maples during the big winter, baked beans in the fire all night and I wanted to be like them. So, I poured over my Shepard's Seeds catalogue, picked my varietals and went to work. For several years I kept a kitchen garden, made apple cider vinegar from the remains of pie apples, learned to sew, knit and crochet, and yes, twice I made my own butter.
What I discovered is that food from one's own garden tastes better. I did not use pesticides simply because I did not know about them. But my tomatoes were sweeter than any I had tasted before, my potatoes more buttery. My puny corn had a freshness that I did not know corn could have. My haricot verts were a crispy dream.
I understand and can appreciate the various defenses of and justifications for the 'locovore movement' and I am certainly on board with most of them. But for me, long before politics and marketing strategies, there was Laura and my little garden and the discovery that fresh food was a magical world unto itself. More than politics, more than prestige, being a 'locovore' is a privilege.
28 June 2010
Franken-fish
I just saw a headline that captured my eye and make my heart skip a beat: FDA to approve GM Salmon. After reading the article, I moved to the comments page. Why? Because what the article has to say is pretty cut and dry (and without much in the way of genuine content). We have figured out a method by which we can make salmon grow larger and do so faster. The FDA may approve this salmon for general consumption. What I want to know is what we are saying about this.
One comment in particular caught my eye as it contained all of the platitudes and some of the errors that I find occurring repeatedly within this debate: (1) We cannot feed the whole planet fish on traditional methods of fishing; (2) The planet needs and wants more fish; (3) Telling the planet (I am assuming here we mean people on earth) they can't eat as much salmon is not a "politically feasible position"; (4) People are going to start farming these fish whether they are approved by the FDA or not; And (5) GMOs are not different than all of the other methods by which human beings have altered the ecosystem since we "left Africa".
I was drawn to this comment because it was articulate, followed a pattern of argumentation one could recognize as logical (at least on its face)and expressed the most deceptive and dangerous thought patterns: 'We cannot control what others will do, including but not limited to need and greed. Moreover, others (all others) will act out of wanton self-interest (in the short term) not matter what other information may cross their paths. This self-interest will compel these 'others' to engage in what is, admittedly, perhaps a bad idea. Get on board or go home. Plus we can comfort ourselves with the idea that this activity is no different than walking, talking, breathing, and seeking out methods of basic survival.'
Let me take the last point first: Human beings are a part of the micro and macro ecosystems on this planet, just like any other organism. Unlike some organisms, we can examine how our actions affect the systems in which we live. And because we can, we should (a la Kant). Period.
Returning then to the first point, why is it necessary, or even desirable, to feed the whole planet fish? We do not come from homogenous environments, and as such our dietary needs are not uniform. Further, it does not automatically follow that just because a diet contains fish, that all fish are created equal or are desired by the body for the same reasons. While I may grant that, as populations grow and develop, we need to find new ways to feed these populations, I am not convinced, prima facie, that farming one, or several kindsm of fish, in one part of the world, is the answer.
Moving on to (3), telling people to do anything, whether the command is to walk between two lines, or to eat or not eat certain foods, is rarely a "politically feasible position." What does generally work is to present cognizant individuals with all available information and to ask them to make an informed and educated decision. While this approach may feels scary (as 'we' cannot control the outcome) facts without fear-mongering often lead to individuals making intelligent choices. (And here is where the NYTimes (who originally ran this article) could step up their game. There is NO information of content in the entire article, though the editors of NYTimes do consider this front page news!)
Yes, I said it: People are capable of coming to intelligent conclusions when presented with facts. I have seen it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears. It is simply not the case that individuals will farm or support the farming of GM salmon when presented with all of the facts. And if individuals will not by it, larger corporations will not produce it. But again, the key is to have access to unbiased information whereby individuals can make informed decisions and have the data to support their claims (especially as they are bombarded by less expensive product and massive advertising campaigns).
I realize that I have not yet begun to address the facts of the case at hand, but I must run (literally). Please write in with what you know and let's get the education game going!
One comment in particular caught my eye as it contained all of the platitudes and some of the errors that I find occurring repeatedly within this debate: (1) We cannot feed the whole planet fish on traditional methods of fishing; (2) The planet needs and wants more fish; (3) Telling the planet (I am assuming here we mean people on earth) they can't eat as much salmon is not a "politically feasible position"; (4) People are going to start farming these fish whether they are approved by the FDA or not; And (5) GMOs are not different than all of the other methods by which human beings have altered the ecosystem since we "left Africa".
I was drawn to this comment because it was articulate, followed a pattern of argumentation one could recognize as logical (at least on its face)and expressed the most deceptive and dangerous thought patterns: 'We cannot control what others will do, including but not limited to need and greed. Moreover, others (all others) will act out of wanton self-interest (in the short term) not matter what other information may cross their paths. This self-interest will compel these 'others' to engage in what is, admittedly, perhaps a bad idea. Get on board or go home. Plus we can comfort ourselves with the idea that this activity is no different than walking, talking, breathing, and seeking out methods of basic survival.'
Let me take the last point first: Human beings are a part of the micro and macro ecosystems on this planet, just like any other organism. Unlike some organisms, we can examine how our actions affect the systems in which we live. And because we can, we should (a la Kant). Period.
Returning then to the first point, why is it necessary, or even desirable, to feed the whole planet fish? We do not come from homogenous environments, and as such our dietary needs are not uniform. Further, it does not automatically follow that just because a diet contains fish, that all fish are created equal or are desired by the body for the same reasons. While I may grant that, as populations grow and develop, we need to find new ways to feed these populations, I am not convinced, prima facie, that farming one, or several kindsm of fish, in one part of the world, is the answer.
Moving on to (3), telling people to do anything, whether the command is to walk between two lines, or to eat or not eat certain foods, is rarely a "politically feasible position." What does generally work is to present cognizant individuals with all available information and to ask them to make an informed and educated decision. While this approach may feels scary (as 'we' cannot control the outcome) facts without fear-mongering often lead to individuals making intelligent choices. (And here is where the NYTimes (who originally ran this article) could step up their game. There is NO information of content in the entire article, though the editors of NYTimes do consider this front page news!)
Yes, I said it: People are capable of coming to intelligent conclusions when presented with facts. I have seen it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears. It is simply not the case that individuals will farm or support the farming of GM salmon when presented with all of the facts. And if individuals will not by it, larger corporations will not produce it. But again, the key is to have access to unbiased information whereby individuals can make informed decisions and have the data to support their claims (especially as they are bombarded by less expensive product and massive advertising campaigns).
I realize that I have not yet begun to address the facts of the case at hand, but I must run (literally). Please write in with what you know and let's get the education game going!
22 June 2010
Dancing Pigs and Flying Cockroaches
Last night we had amazing ribs at The BBQ Shop in Memphis, TN. I do not pretend to be a bbq connoisseur but I know good ribs when I eat them and these were great! Tender, moist, and perfectly seasoned, served with baked beans (seasoned with brown sugar, paprika and chili powder), coleslaw (not at all mayonnaise-ish and with dill pickles) and Texas Toast (husband liked but I wanted to leave room for RIBS). We got them half dry, half wet. I usually like dry (because you can really taste the rub and I usually find bbq sauce too sweet) but in this case the bbq sauce was so perfect, I wanted to put it on everything. It started out sweet and then...kick...and then a smooth finish but not cloyingly sweet. Perfect. Topped off with Fat Tire from the tap, I was in heaven.
Today was a dismal waffle from Waffle House (second only to my husband's BLT -- yuck!) and then a Wendy's and QuikTrip combo meal in our Motel 6 room. Not really loving Oaklahoma.
Do you have any BBQ loves? SHARE!!!
Today was a dismal waffle from Waffle House (second only to my husband's BLT -- yuck!) and then a Wendy's and QuikTrip combo meal in our Motel 6 room. Not really loving Oaklahoma.
Do you have any BBQ loves? SHARE!!!
17 June 2010
The Year of the Penguin
First food blog of the cross country adventure: Penguin Drive-In in Charlotte, NC. Fan-freaking-tastic! Shock Top, Yuengling, Fat Tire and Oat Stout on tap. Fried Pickles to end the conversation on Fried Pickles. Sweet and salty Onion Rings. Fried Shrimp just as it should be. Block Burger, Southern Style (cheese, pickles, chili and onion). Hushpuppies....Hushpuppies. Need I say more. I will post photos in a bit but if you want to check it out before, Guy Fieri went there in episode DV0103 "Blue Plate Specials". (Though we found it on our own, thank you very much!)
06 June 2010
Ok...Let's Try for Kids...
It has been a while. I have been out in the world, eating, drinking, and trying to finish up a job, a course and initiate a move. I have finished up the job. I am almost done with the course. And all boxes have been shipped for the impending cross-country move. I feel almost no anxiety about the move, but my heart does ache for the people who remain on this coast. This is not the first time I wish the middle of the country was a bit smaller.
I sat down to write about a recent visit Edwin and I took to Ommegang Brewery. It was a fascinating education and a really fun tasting. I am now inspired to learn about brewing and beer and food pairing on whole new level.
But if I were to be honest, and as my beautiful friend Amelia has just reminded me, honesty, at root, is another way of saying 'trusting my intuition, my sacred voice' what is on my mind right now is not Belgian style ales, their production process or the delish food pairings that might accompany them. What is on my mind is my business plan and upcoming presentation. Taking the latter first, I am annoyed by the presentation because it seems to be a futile exercise, and when it comes to speaking to large groups, I do not need the practice that badly. The futility lies in the fact that I may not be able to receive my diploma because we are moving (Long Story: I was told I could, now I am being told I cannot. Moral: I don't really care either way).
Moving on to the former, my mind is occupied by the plan because it is becoming real. And this means, above and beyond all else, a commitment of time. It means saying 'I choose to locate myself and remain in this place for many years' -- certainly at minimum five years. It means letting go of my deepest safety net - the 'I could just leave' (even though I rarely do). Yep, totally scared.
Little plug: If you want to see this totally terrifying process unfold, you can follow the development of my bar (Two Sisters Bar and Books) on Twitter.
I sat down to write about a recent visit Edwin and I took to Ommegang Brewery. It was a fascinating education and a really fun tasting. I am now inspired to learn about brewing and beer and food pairing on whole new level.
But if I were to be honest, and as my beautiful friend Amelia has just reminded me, honesty, at root, is another way of saying 'trusting my intuition, my sacred voice' what is on my mind right now is not Belgian style ales, their production process or the delish food pairings that might accompany them. What is on my mind is my business plan and upcoming presentation. Taking the latter first, I am annoyed by the presentation because it seems to be a futile exercise, and when it comes to speaking to large groups, I do not need the practice that badly. The futility lies in the fact that I may not be able to receive my diploma because we are moving (Long Story: I was told I could, now I am being told I cannot. Moral: I don't really care either way).
Moving on to the former, my mind is occupied by the plan because it is becoming real. And this means, above and beyond all else, a commitment of time. It means saying 'I choose to locate myself and remain in this place for many years' -- certainly at minimum five years. It means letting go of my deepest safety net - the 'I could just leave' (even though I rarely do). Yep, totally scared.
Little plug: If you want to see this totally terrifying process unfold, you can follow the development of my bar (Two Sisters Bar and Books) on Twitter.
12 April 2010
I.
I want to write about something for which I do not yet have proof nor anyone else's esteemed theories to help substantiate. I want to write about something I am just beginning to think about. The thought map goes something like this:
There was a very good line in an otherwise very silly movie. To paraphrase: Women in America seem to punish their bodies, punish them through strict diets and hard workouts. It is almost as if they are trying to punish any curves, any softness, any maternality out of their bodies and souls. Rather than see curves as signs of physical and emotional strength, things to wear with pride, some women choose to view them as signs of weakness, negative softness, a status of being less-than.
Curves are the physical manifestation of an extraordinary sensuality. Curves come about through loving and caring and eating...eating well and eating lovingly...eating foods that not only nourish the body but excite the soul and palate. I think that some women run from and punish these curves because the sensuality they represent is powerful and thereby terrifying. Terrifying because...we have been trained to be tough but not powerful...because we are afraid to become alienated from these very social circles that are invested in keeping us alienated from ourselves...because recognizing our own power may cause us to question the secure trajectory of our lives...
MFK Fisher wrote in response to the critique that she did not write of important things that when one writes of food and hunger and the sensual satiation of that hunger, one is "writing about love and the hunger for it...and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied...and it is all one." When we spend time with food, with making, with giving and with eating, we are trying to care for each other as we seek out fulfillment of the "wilder, more insistent hungers." We can starve ourselves and leave our bodies no time to feel anything of those wilder more insistent hungers. We can gorge ourselves and leave our bodies no room to feel anything of those wilder more insistent hungers. Or we can surrender to the sensuality, the fulfillment, the ecstatic joy of a full stomach and a pleased palate, and then face head-on those wilder passions for which there is no socially acceptable expression.
21 March 2010
A little window into my life....
I am up at 6 am on Sunday, having breakfast and getting ready to go to work. I wash a pear. I need to dry that pear. I look for paper towels..in the oven...In the oven??!! Yes, in the oven.
My husband was never much of a 'bachelor'. He kept his apartment clean. He did his laundry and dishes. He did not own oversized leather furniture. Even his large TV is of modest proportion. But he did and still does keep paper towels and toilet paper in the oven. I thought this was unique to him, until my sister confessed that her boo also keeps paper goods in the oven...**
Um...guys, what is up with this? It is just plain weird....
** Correction: I misremembered the facts as my sister presented them. It was not her boo who keeps paper goods in the oven but her boo's friend who keeps his home brewing materials in the dishwasher. Sorry for the misrepresentation Mr. P.
My husband was never much of a 'bachelor'. He kept his apartment clean. He did his laundry and dishes. He did not own oversized leather furniture. Even his large TV is of modest proportion. But he did and still does keep paper towels and toilet paper in the oven. I thought this was unique to him, until my sister confessed that her boo also keeps paper goods in the oven...**
Um...guys, what is up with this? It is just plain weird....
** Correction: I misremembered the facts as my sister presented them. It was not her boo who keeps paper goods in the oven but her boo's friend who keeps his home brewing materials in the dishwasher. Sorry for the misrepresentation Mr. P.
13 March 2010
Enlightened Hospitality
Archas commented on my last blog ("Service") that many people think of a service position as a menial or transitional job because of the conditions under which that job is performed (long hours, low pay, no benefits, etc...). I could not agree more. However, there are companies (usually small, owner-operator organizations) that strive to show care for their employees. The means through which this care can be shown are varied. The paradox of this lies in the fact that in my experience there is a break down wherein many of those on the 'front line', those with the
most face time with the customer, do not feel that care, even when the company and owner-operator truly desire to show that care. (As I have said before, one must feel care to give sincere care, and food hospitality is care through the giving of food.) I believe that
the break down in the care intended versus the care felt occurs first during
the training process. Those being trained are brought into the company
through a narrative that gives the company an identity. However that
identity is usually predicated on a cult of personality, which enshrouds the primary
owner of the company. The message is clear: "This person
worked very hard to create this company. Our product is one of integrity.
Therefore you must care for the customer so that he/she feels good about
the owner and about the product." The employee is taught that the
only individual who counts, who is irreplaceable, is the primary owner.
The rest are expendable.
A second breakdown occurs at the intermediary
management position located between the owner and those on the front line.
The individual who most often inhabits that position does not have
an attitude of care towards those on the front line, usually because that individual has not been the recipient of training that teaches him/her to lead by trust rather than by inducing fear. The order of
priority this individual often maintains is company, self, customer, staff (though I
also believe this person often has a significantly diminished sense of selfhood such
that his/her assessment of his/her job description/performance and his/her definition
of self are interchangeable). The end result of such management technique is to frustrate both the manager and the front line staff. As frustration grows the manager tries to hold on tighter and the most capable and caring of the staff usually move on.
This has struck me as a bit cocky wobble, though I
could not quite articulate why. So you can imagine how thrilled I am to
have found Danny Meyer's text on enlightened hospitality. His management
model is one that supports and empowers the employee on the front lines so that
that employee can give care through his/her service. Meyer's order of
priority is staff, customer, community, shareholder, and he maintains that a
company that does not understand that its raison d’être for existing is
community building will inevitably under perform.
The primary community that must be built is the one amongst those on the front line. Meyer's engages many techniques to assist in the building of this community, but the one I find most compelling is that of empowerment. The theory is to train, trust and reward employees for treating the company as if it were their own. This kind of empowerment can be seen as the antithesis of micro-management. Meyer's then adds onto this equation his definition of hospitality as a dialogue, which involves an active, listening, and participatory encounter from the employees’ side -- an encounter, which falls flat if the employee is not invested. Investment cannot occur without empowerment.
The primary community that must be built is the one amongst those on the front line. Meyer's engages many techniques to assist in the building of this community, but the one I find most compelling is that of empowerment. The theory is to train, trust and reward employees for treating the company as if it were their own. This kind of empowerment can be seen as the antithesis of micro-management. Meyer's then adds onto this equation his definition of hospitality as a dialogue, which involves an active, listening, and participatory encounter from the employees’ side -- an encounter, which falls flat if the employee is not invested. Investment cannot occur without empowerment.
Instead of a company narrative built upon a cult of personality, Meyer's advocates a dynamic company narrative
built upon the rich and varied individuals who bring that company alive for the
customer. It is a brave model Meyer's has built and one that requires
that he trust himself enough to trust those he hires.
I believe that it is possible to put one's employees first and still
have a healthy and robust bottom line. Meyer's has made quite the case
for just such a model, and I intend to follow in his lead.
23 February 2010
Service
I love serving people food. Food, defined as a consumable made with integrity, from ingredients that are pure, is wonderful. My reaction to it is on an emotional level. I am fascinated by it; I pursue it; I want to be around it; I enjoy giving it to other people. I am proud that this is how I spend the majority of my days.
In trying to understand the general (though certainly not universal) attitude that service is a second rate job and one that you do on your way to becoming something else, I keep returning to the way we produce food and how we view consuming it. Even at the finest of restaurants, and certainly at the delis, Subways, and diners of our daily lives, most of what is served travels a substantial distance before being broken down and made in its final product. There is little to no relationship between the production of the raw ingredient (the fabrication from nature) and the production of that which is sold as a final product. So already there is a disconnect for most people between what is needed to survive (and thereby what is, historically and psychologically, been held in 'awe') and what is being eaten.
At the same time, and not unrelated, is the attitude we have developed in relation to food: Food is the enemy, something to be parceled out in certain settings or combinations or not at all; Food as a substitute for any one of many emotional difficulties (most of which I believe ultimately lead back to a distinct feeling of alienation, but that for another time); Skinny is beautiful; The other extreme, fat/obese is beautiful; And the list goes on. The people who serve us food, rather than being harbingers of care and survival, become enablers of damaging social and internal narratives. It is not unreasonable to have little respect for such enablers, or to desire not to be one.
Food, produced in a more traditional manner, from ingredients grown locally and fabricated in smaller quantities, tends to attract people to serve it who share my attitude toward service. This creates, on a local and sometimes national scale, a loosely knit community of like-minded folks. It is a lovely world to belong to, and the first one in a long time to which I feel I truly belong.
In trying to understand the general (though certainly not universal) attitude that service is a second rate job and one that you do on your way to becoming something else, I keep returning to the way we produce food and how we view consuming it. Even at the finest of restaurants, and certainly at the delis, Subways, and diners of our daily lives, most of what is served travels a substantial distance before being broken down and made in its final product. There is little to no relationship between the production of the raw ingredient (the fabrication from nature) and the production of that which is sold as a final product. So already there is a disconnect for most people between what is needed to survive (and thereby what is, historically and psychologically, been held in 'awe') and what is being eaten.
At the same time, and not unrelated, is the attitude we have developed in relation to food: Food is the enemy, something to be parceled out in certain settings or combinations or not at all; Food as a substitute for any one of many emotional difficulties (most of which I believe ultimately lead back to a distinct feeling of alienation, but that for another time); Skinny is beautiful; The other extreme, fat/obese is beautiful; And the list goes on. The people who serve us food, rather than being harbingers of care and survival, become enablers of damaging social and internal narratives. It is not unreasonable to have little respect for such enablers, or to desire not to be one.
Food, produced in a more traditional manner, from ingredients grown locally and fabricated in smaller quantities, tends to attract people to serve it who share my attitude toward service. This creates, on a local and sometimes national scale, a loosely knit community of like-minded folks. It is a lovely world to belong to, and the first one in a long time to which I feel I truly belong.
16 February 2010
Eating My Feelings
On Monday I was angry. No, let me rephrase that: I was VERY angry -- furious -- livid -- fire-spewing mad. Why I was angry is not nearly as interesting as what I did with that anger. I ate it. I literally stuffed my face because I did not know what to do with the incredible anger I felt. I had no outlet, no means through which I could expel this demon, anger. And I found this so troubling I tried to drown it, suffocate it, with food. Now I am sure you can imagine the result of such an effort: A stomach ache so tremendous I could not sleep, but rather was up all night seething with anger and a stomach ache. Perfect.
Food is a very powerful tool. When I am full I feel everything. Hunger distracts. So when I do not want to think about a hurt or to address it, I do not eat. So why then do I eat to excess? Anger...but at what? Feeling invisible, unimportant, dismissed, lied to. I eat to substantiate my existence. Put another way, when I feel liking nothing, I want to eat nothing. When I feel like something big and powerful, I also eat accordingly.
I was watching my pup today. When it is grey and cold out and he does not get as much exercise as he would like, he limits his intake of food. When he isn't burning it, he doesn't need it, so he doesn't eat it. What separates my pup and me is that food is not for me ever just food. It is a long and complicated narrative beginning and ending with a sometimes clear, sometimes opaque, sometimes troubled vision of myself, perhaps not as I am but certainly as I feel myself to be. There are so many books out now about how to 'eat like a skinny person': 'eat when you are hungry, stop when you are full'; 'eat anything you like, but in small doses'; 'the trouble with Americans is that we eat too many chemicals'; etc...Now, I am not dismissing these platitudes, as in each one there is truth. But food is so much more complicated than that, and the solutions, both personal and communal, for our food woes must be more complex.
So where do we go from here? Hell if I know! But I do hope we can develop a platitude-free, nuanced, honest articulation of the complex problem of food production and consumption in this country. We will have to address some skeletons in our collective closet, skeletons named race, greed, profit, poverty, sex, sexism and their troubling cousins. Where should we begin?
Food is a very powerful tool. When I am full I feel everything. Hunger distracts. So when I do not want to think about a hurt or to address it, I do not eat. So why then do I eat to excess? Anger...but at what? Feeling invisible, unimportant, dismissed, lied to. I eat to substantiate my existence. Put another way, when I feel liking nothing, I want to eat nothing. When I feel like something big and powerful, I also eat accordingly.
I was watching my pup today. When it is grey and cold out and he does not get as much exercise as he would like, he limits his intake of food. When he isn't burning it, he doesn't need it, so he doesn't eat it. What separates my pup and me is that food is not for me ever just food. It is a long and complicated narrative beginning and ending with a sometimes clear, sometimes opaque, sometimes troubled vision of myself, perhaps not as I am but certainly as I feel myself to be. There are so many books out now about how to 'eat like a skinny person': 'eat when you are hungry, stop when you are full'; 'eat anything you like, but in small doses'; 'the trouble with Americans is that we eat too many chemicals'; etc...Now, I am not dismissing these platitudes, as in each one there is truth. But food is so much more complicated than that, and the solutions, both personal and communal, for our food woes must be more complex.
So where do we go from here? Hell if I know! But I do hope we can develop a platitude-free, nuanced, honest articulation of the complex problem of food production and consumption in this country. We will have to address some skeletons in our collective closet, skeletons named race, greed, profit, poverty, sex, sexism and their troubling cousins. Where should we begin?
15 February 2010
Table Wine
Edwin and I are, like many of you, big on wine but low on cash. We have recently been exploring the $10 and under bins and have found several surprisingly tasty gems. Nothing fancy, nothing special...but well balanced, easy to pair with foods and thoroughly enjoyable. My favorite of the moment is Le Vieille Ferme, Cotes du Ventoux. It is a pleasant, not cloyingly berried, medium/full-bodied red, with nice tannin, which retails at our local liquor store for $8.99 plus tax. We had it the other night with an aged Vermont cheddar which was fine, though a nice, stinky camembert would have been better. It does not take much to make me feel content...a warm apartment, an affectionate pup, good company and decent wine. This bottle fits the bill and the budget. Let me know what you have found in the $10 and under....Happy drinking!
10 February 2010
Aggrevation Breeds Inspiration
Last night I found myself witness to yet another series of platitudes about food production, food service, the environment and this ephemeral concept: "corporate responsibility." Let me describe what set me off: I am a student of culinary management. A description of just what that is is the subject of further discussion. Being this student I found myself witness to a lecture on emerging trends and how small operators can define and participate in those trends, without the funds to engage in the requisite market research. The example before us was McDonald's. Before we go any further let me be clear: I am not a McDonald's hater, nor do I ascribe to the philosophy that all corporations of a given size are evil. Rather I am of the mind that corporations, their power and size, are socially created, supported and justified. Again, the subject of further discussion. Returning to the lecture, McDonald's has 'uncovered' through its extensive and expensive market research that there are several trends which are of interest to their potential consumer base, including the environment and consumer health. In response McDonald's has made available a summary of their corporate referendum aimed at addressing these concerns (http://www.mcdonalds.com/usa/good/report.html). In this referendum McDonald's lists a number of achievements in its changing relationship to environment. Several of us voiced concern that these achievements were for the most part based on goals set internally, without the direct input or oversight of organizations devoted to the monitoring of environmentally-helpful modes of production. To give an analogy, this is much like a doctor saying that she has determined for herself what defines ethical practices in the domain of medicine and based upon that determination and her own observations of herself has found herself to be an ethically sound practitioner. See the problem? Our concerns were met with defensiveness and an element of disdain (and the accusation that we were just McDonald's haters). And yet this lecture was literally being given under the title "Corporate Responsibility". So what I wanted to know was whether we, as potential food service operators, were being encouraged to produce the semblance of care and responsibility in relation to production practices or if we were being encouraged actually to produce food and food service with an attitude of care and responsibility? In the dismissal of that question, I got my answer: The consumer (aka the person who pays the bills) wants to think that we care, but it doesn't really matter if we do. It should be obvious by now that I have some serious problems with that answer.
As food service operators and as consumers we wield incredible power: the power of the dollar. With incredible power should come incredible responsibility, (remembering of course that the domain of ethics deals not with what is but what should be (and perhaps how to get from 'should' to another, better 'is')). There is no stronger force in American politics, or American social practices, today than the persuasive power of the dollar, and as consumers and operators we can choose to use that power to develop a future or to eradicate the possibility of a future at all. The choice is there and no matter where your sympathies lie, it is anything but an easy question and anything but a platitude to be swept under the rug.
As a final thought, I find it particularly insidious that this kind of responsibility can be so easily dismissed when dealing with food, the original and most primal sign of care. Food production and food service, that is, feeding each other, is the first, the last, and sometimes the only tangible care we can show for each other. If that fact alone does not encourage a legitimate discussion of responsibility, corporate or otherwise, I am at a loss for what can.
As food service operators and as consumers we wield incredible power: the power of the dollar. With incredible power should come incredible responsibility, (remembering of course that the domain of ethics deals not with what is but what should be (and perhaps how to get from 'should' to another, better 'is')). There is no stronger force in American politics, or American social practices, today than the persuasive power of the dollar, and as consumers and operators we can choose to use that power to develop a future or to eradicate the possibility of a future at all. The choice is there and no matter where your sympathies lie, it is anything but an easy question and anything but a platitude to be swept under the rug.
As a final thought, I find it particularly insidious that this kind of responsibility can be so easily dismissed when dealing with food, the original and most primal sign of care. Food production and food service, that is, feeding each other, is the first, the last, and sometimes the only tangible care we can show for each other. If that fact alone does not encourage a legitimate discussion of responsibility, corporate or otherwise, I am at a loss for what can.
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