Terroir chips?

(that's terroir, not Terra chips -- though those are pretty delicious too)

Foodies and agrarians generally use the concept of terroir to refer to the inherent, inextricable and intangible character of raising food in a specific geographical region. We often hear about it in terms of wine, the way the grapes of a particular region process the mineral characteristics of the soil in which it grows. People also talk about it in terms of food, how the cheese of a particular region gets its unique characteristics from the grass mixture eaten by the cows that produce the milk for said cheese. But, given that terroir generally involves growing something on the land itself, specific terroirs are not exactly mobile entities: you can't ship the soil off to some other place in order to replicate terroir.

Or maybe you can? This article about smoking techniques for food in Food & Wine's February issue has got me thinking that maybe terroir can become mobile. Specifically, this quote by chef Jason Alley:

"You can really taste the individual wood, like hickory or apple, without covering up the flavor of the thing you're smoking."

So, to the extent that the individual woods might carry the terroir of the region in which they were grown, perhaps exportable wood chips and smoking techniques provide a novel way to unshackle the concept of terroir from products solely raised on that land? Intriguing for a new way of thinking about globalized cuisine, or terrifying for implying that one could actually encapsulate and commodify the intangible characteristics of a region (though arguably, wine producers who invoke the concept of terroir already do this)?

Or maybe just a bunch of hot air...

Diplomacy on a plate

Tasting Table's newsletter for today (national edition) notes that chefs have recently been combining the classic French dish, duck confit, with American comfort foods.

A homey French staple cozies up to American classics

If only real diplomatic relations were so easy as combining one's national foods with others... then again, if Tyler Florence's duck confit and waffles dish at Rotisserie and Wine is as good as Tasting Table describes it, I'd probably be ready to sign any treaty you put in front of me.

Chipotle's Asian concept

I have yet to read details about Chipotle's plans to launch a quick-service Asian concept (perhaps because there aren't many), but I find this article interesting for how it characterizes and generalizes about Mexican and Chinese cuisine.

3 Challenges Chipotle Faces Launching an Asian Chain

I'm guessing that certain figures of Mexican cuisine, including Top Chef Master Rick Bayless, Diana Kennedy, and those who advocated for UNESCO to recognize Michoacan cuisine as a form of intangible cultural heritage might object to the idea that "Mexican food is pretty simple to execute. You throw together beans, tortillas, a few meats and cheeses, guacamole, rice, and you’re pretty set."

Oddly, she contrasts this to Asian food which "involves a lot more chef expertise, more ingredients, different spices, and more complex dishes that are tricky to keep appetizing-looking in a warming tray — just hit your local grocery store’s hot-deli line or a shopping-mall food court and take a look." Rick Bayless's preparation of mole negro for a recent state dinner at the White House included more than 20 different ingredients and took several days to prepare. That's just for the sauce.

Tice also thinks that quick-service Asian food based on local, organic ingredients faces a greater challenge compared to doing the same for Mexican food. But my guess is that Chipotle will choose those Asian dishes that serve their model well, rather than trying to represent the range or depth of Asian cuisine. Sidestepping the PC-minefield of conflating the diversity of Asian cuisines into one concept, I can see a Vietnamese "inspired" (for all you purists out there) menu that could easily work within the Chipotle model:

Banh mi sandwiches
Bun (room temp vermicelli salad-type dish)
Spring/summer/garden rolls (I'm thinking of the fresh ones, rather than the deep fried ones)

All of these draw upon easy to source local ingredients, can be adapted to suit a variety of diets and food preferences, and can be quickly assembled to order. Oh yes, and they're delicious.

You could even throw pho into the mix, though I would only recommend it for eat-in customers (and squeamish eaters probably wouldn't want the raw beef on the side). Takeaway pho is never a good idea...

Mexico

I've been horrible at updating this blog, and sadly, it's not because I've been eating delicious things instead. Then again, I suppose reading about delicious things (thank you Anthropology of French Food and Culinary Tourism courses!) isn't so bad either.

So, in honor of UNESCO's recent recognition of Mexican food and the Michoacan paradigm as products of intangible cultural heritage,* I take you back to a simpler time, when so much of my everyday experience was focused on food. Rewind five months to my five-week program in Oaxaca, Mexico, birthplace of chocolate and mole:

Posole



Ballpark hot dog, cheering on the minor league Oaxaca Guerreros



Street tacos in the Zocalo



Amazing salsa at the women's weaving cooperative in Teotitlan del Valle



Nieves



This is all that you'll see of the tacos al pastor. Because they were that delicious.



Hot chocolate


Mole coloradito, my favorite of the 7/1,000/7,000 moles of Oaxaca


And of course, the infamous chapulines (grasshoppers). Legend has it that eating chapulines assures that you will return to Oaxaca.


I guess I better start looking for plane tickets:

(photo courtesy of Laura)


*For a more nuanced take on whether this recognition is actually a good thing, see Is 'Culinary Heritage' a Good Idea?.

Why do you go to restaurants?

In a piece for SFGate's food coverage, Clark Wolf counters "Best Restaurant in the World" chef Rene Redzepi's contention that people go to restaurants only to refuel or to be challenged by listing the myriad other ways that restaurant dining affects him.

On the Purpose of Going to Restaurants

The range of emotions that Wolf describes echo my own attachments to food: "I delight, I remember, I grab comfort, I just smile. Food can make me giggle or get me teary, deeply satisfy or stimulate my desire for more. It can calm me the freak down or really rev me up." But it also speaks to the visceral power that food holds -- which is exactly what makes it a powerful tool for communication generally, and culinary diplomacy more specifically. The range of emotions that food can inspire speaks to the range of ways in which food can be mobilized to reinforce or counter a particular message.

Of course, it also speaks to the stakes in getting food right: "Food gone wrong (or professionally wronged) can get me crabby or leave me sad and empty – all while feeling full. It can confuse and upset, annoy or mildly amuse." Or just inspire uninhibited aggression:



Clark also balks at the constant need, mostly on the part of young male chefs, for food to be a challenge, and the fact that critics and gastronomes consistently associate bold, edgy, revolutionary with "best". To which I say, hear hear! As a visceral, and often times primal, experience, food should be about what it inspires within you, the eater, regardless of the preparation techniques involved. Obviously, surprise and innovation can be compelling. But there is also the risk of alienation that accompanies edgy, revolutionary food, which seems to undercut one of the primary purposes of eating (in my mind): to revel in one's food, to enjoy and savor and be satisfied. Food education, learning to understand and appreciate new foods, might be work, but food itself shouldn't be.

A regional food concept and international inspiration

I have much to catch up on, but for now, some interesting articles:

More than just eating local: Home Grown
Sean Brock is opening a restaurant in South Carolina called Husk, where the cuisine will be firmly rooted in the South: if it's not grown there, or if it's not historically related to the area, no dice. An interesting twist on the idea of eating local (or, in his case, regional), in the geographical, historical, *and* cultural contexts of the word.

Relatedly, though ironically taken to an international context, Brad Farmerie thinks global cuisine is more than just combining exotic ingredients: World Chefs: Farmerie says global cuisine should be focused
It's only a short Q and A, but he touches upon the idea of using ingredients in the context of the cultures from whence they're derived, rather than just willy nilly throwing things on a plate. Culture matters!

Which is maybe something restaurateurs/chefs should take to heart before considering following QSR's suggestion to shake things up by drawing inspiration from other food cultures: Driving innovation through international inspiration

Then again, Falafoul, a Saudi Arabia-based chain of fast-food restaurants has apparently incorporated "international flavors like Greek, Italian and Mexican" into their falafel sandwiches. Apparently they're looking to expand into the US market; if they succeed, I'd be intrigued to see how such international flavors might get reinterpreted through "traditional Arabic" eyes for an American audience.

Conflict Kitchen

Super, super intriguing: a group of Pittsburgh artists started a food project selling foods from places that the US has historically been at odds with.

Conflict Kitchen uses food to bridge divide

They're currently serving kubidehs from Iran, encased in a wrapper printed with information about Iran, as well as personal views about Iran from both Pittsburg and Iran. The plan is to focus on Iran for 4 months, and then move on to Afghanistan.

Clearly this is a type of culinary diplomacy playing out on a citizen level, or perhaps a citizen diplomacy playing out on a culinary level. What's also interesting to note is that this is coming from an art angle, with an art professor at Carnegie Mellon University co-founding the project, and the university paying the rent for the space.

Apparently the word is spreading, with people interested in how this idea might be franchised. I, too, am intrigued by how this idea might be expanded beyond an "art" project, or an academic venture, as well as the attendant questions that would accompany such an expansion. For instance, how to incorporate a sense of "cultural authenticity"? The current project drew upon the founders' personal connections in Iran, as well as the input of an Iranian-born professor at Carnegie Mellon. Are such personal connections "enough" to imbue a sense of authenticity? How might future attempts to capture "authenticity", lacking preexisting personal connections, shape iterations of the project?

Or do such questions muddle the process? Perhaps this model should be taken for what it is and what it might achieve in its limited realm, its potential to inspire others beyond its direct influence notwithstanding, rather than trying to scale it up or politicize it. Though it still nonetheless raises the question, will this actually have an impact on people's perceptions of, in this case, Iran?

Of course, others might also say, so long as the food is good, does it matter?