Good Bread, Alice Waters, and The Reach of a Chef

The last few days I've been stopping by Breadbar on Third Street on the way to work to get a good cup of coffee and a fresh pastry. The first time it was a lusciously tender pain au chocolat. Today I indulged in a blueberry muffin that crumbled with delight. It wasn't too buttery, and the edges had a crisp that gave me a smile. There's nothing like delicious food to start the day. I have yet to try the famous baguette at Breadbar, which apparently uses an authentic Parisian recipe. Tomorrow perhaps with a nice serving of cafe au lait (beware, they use a strong portion of whole milk for their version).



I recall a long conversation I had with my cousin, Ezra (or Justin as he was formally known). He's been working at the famous Chez Panisse in Berkeley for the last couple of months, alternating between the ever-busy phone lines taking reservations or the prep kitchen. By his own admission, it is an amazing place. The food is astounding, the approach simple yet revolutionary. However, he's been frustrated because they work him too hard and it took him months before the normal employee practice of meeting one-on-one with Alice Waters. Waters, if you don't already know, is the founder of Chez Panisse and herald of the so-called "Delicious Revolution" - the idea that simple, honest food could change the lives of Americans. A recent feature in the New York Times details Waters' current aspiration as the "high priestess of the local, sustainable food revolution."

Anyways, Ezra was telling me that he finally met with her after demanding a meeting through a handwritten letter. During the meeting, she went on and on about her approach to food - her desire to highlight the best produce and meats available in local markets. But Ezra wasn't taken aback by her candid and passionate spiel about food. Well, at least not that subject. What did impress him was her absolute and unfailing conviction that food can dramatically change one’s life, especially if that food is responsibly procured and made. He was telling how was humbled that a woman as fabled and highly regarded as Alice Waters would die for her cause. It challenged him to rethink his own passion – one for God. Our God, who is worthy of so much more than the junk that we offer. I found that quite interesting despite his expectations of what an encounter with the legendary Waters might have been like.

Which brings me to my final point. I skimmed through Michael Ruhlman's, The Reach of a Chef, an excellent book about the present situation of the restaurant industry and how it is being driven by famous chefs such as Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud and Wolfgang Puck. I found it intriguing that men who were formerly slaves of kings and queens now command celebrity attention and mystique. It's amazing that our society, so hungry for idols to worship have finally found white-coated cooks worthy of praise and glory. Yet I find chefs to be so much more admirable than heiresses or washed up musicians like your average Hilton or Spears. These men and women have strived so hard to achieve something in an industry that was plagued with so many terrible characteristics. Now shows like Top Chef and Hell's Kitchen nearly deify the man/woman behind the stove, the towering figure in the kitchen that feeds our contrived little capitalist souls.

I might sound cynical, but I'm finding how empty it is to adore fallible people. These chefs aren't worthy of praise. No one is. And neither is the four-star meal before you. Because all these things are such fleeting mirrors of that which is TRUE. Remember as Jesus said, "man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God."

As much as I hoot and hollar about great food, what I'm really interested is how the pursuit of food - gastronomy, gourmandism, foodies, whatever you call it - it's all about Christ. So many people are content with eating terrible food - processed, frozen, carelessly prepared. But there's an entire WORLD of delightful pleasures awaiting the famished -not just in your local diner or four-star restaurant, but in the pages of Scripture. Man, I'm hungry now.

(photos courtesy of Breadbar and NY Times)