Over the years my professional focus has slowly shifted. I'm still as hands-on as ever, yet my thoughts are less about oh-my-god-I'm-so-in-the-weeds, and more about ideas, both big and small. It's about being a manager first and foremost, but also about personal evolution, and having a much broader range of reponsibility and opportunity. I just have more to think about. What we put on the plate, for sure, but also every decision along the way from conception to execution. The running of a kitchen (even a small kitchen within a larger one) is to understand a complex culinary systems theory, to speculate how one good or bad decision can affect all of the other moving parts.
Cooking, at least on a certain level and among the food-obsessed, often finds itself mired in the debate of art versus craft. Without a base of solid skills, creativity is meaningless, yet it's through creativity and inventiveness (and developments in science and technology) that we stumble upon new techniques. The same is true of the other 'arts'; you can't write a concerto without knowing first how to play piano. And while good food trumps all, there is a certain pressure to be creative. It comes not just from our peers, but also from a fair proportion of the dining public. At this point in history, it feels like there is precious little that has yet to be done; is there not a finite number melodies to be sung or plots to be written or flavor combinations to taste? Yet there remains in all creative disciplines enough variation and rearrangement to keep us quite busy. But where do these 'new' ideas come from? How exactly does the creative process work? I don't know that there's one answer to that question. I do know, or at least I've come to ponder, how it might work for me. And surprisingly, it's not when I'm thinking about food. Or maybe it would be better to say that it's when I view the rest of the world through the lens of food.
It hit me the other day how I've come to meet some pretty interesting people- as a result of my job, the social circles I tend to gravitate toward, or at least the proximity to them by living in Manhattan. Granted, 90% of my interaction is with other cooks and chefs, and I'm all for talking shop. But it can be quite refreshing, if not fascinating, to learn about someone else's job and experiences. I love stories from the world of foreign relations or high finance. I even like talking to my dentist about what he does. But it's those who trade in culture, the creative folk among my friends that I admire the most. The actor, writer, musician, and filmmaker. The sound engineer, architect, record producer, and painter. The film critic, photographer, jewelry designer and interior decorator. I'm so curious about what they do, the nuts and bolts, that I fear I sometimes come off as creepy. The processes behind such endeavors are like foreign languages; I may never learn to speak them fluently, but I like knowing some basic key phrases. And somehow I feel immersing oneself in a culture of creativity rubs off, no matter what you do in life.
But I'm also at heart a fan of culture. I tend to frame everything I see in a sense of aesthetics, even when I'm walking down the street. Maybe because my tastes tend to run far from the mainstream, I've always had to seek out my entertainment. I never swallowed what was served up by the conventional outlets, so I think for me it became something to hold on to, something closer to my soul. And though food and cooking has eclipsed my interest in art, or it at least takes up the time available to appreciate it, I still see artistic possibility in every facet of life. But how does all of this find its way back to food? What does an appreciation for Sonic Youth or Thelonious Monk, Stanley Kubrick or Hubert Selby, Edward Hopper or Man Ray- how could they possibly influence my cooking?
I have absolutely no clue.
But I know they do, simply for the fact that they have kept my mind and my senses fertile over the years, just as fertile as cooking has. So the question begs itself. Can we express the same sense of 'emotion' in food, and in the same langauge as other art forms? We can certainly trigger sense memory and convey nostalgia through food, and I think I've seen more attempts at culinary irony than I can shake a spatula at. Beyond that, is it just taste and a pretty plate? Is it that next step, that little extra ineffable nuance, that defines and separates the very best cooking from mere food preparation? As I was walking to work yesterday, I began to think of artistic devices that would be interesting if they could somehow be applied to cooking. I'm not talking about mere plating technique or a direct 'representation' of a work of art but more theoretical concepts...
Music: How might one express the culinary equivalent of a minor chord? Can flavors take on a rythmic syncopation? How about a ska-like backbeat? Would you filter a dish through a distortion pedal? How would you go about 'unplugging' an already amplified ingredient? Does the song still work if the instruments are out of tune?
Writing: Can two different ingredients rhyme with each other? Does the dish/menu provide a narrative? What forms of punctuation can we use to good effect: peroids, exclamation points, question marks, ellipses? When we cook, are we telling a story in third person? Can the ingredient speak in first person? How can we express a metaphor without cuteness or irony?
Painting: How does one create a chiaroscuro, or contrast, in tones? Can you build flavors to create a painterly application of texture? Is it possible to practice culinary pointillism? Is a quick sketch less valid than a laborious masterpiece?
Architecture: Do you create space? How do we assemble our supporting structure? Is the design ultimately dependent on the building materials? How does the food interact with its environment, the plate, the table?
Design: Have you taken into account a sense of comfort, utility, and ergonomics? Can flavor be aerodynamic? Is the dish a one-off or suitable for mass production? Can food sell itself in a graphic sense?
Theater: As a chef, is it possible to slip into character, to become the ingredient, to see the dish from its point of view? Do flavors listen to and play off of each other in the form of a dialogue?
Photography: Is a dish just a random snapshot in time? Or is it a delibrately posed portrait? How might we shift focus and create a depth of field? How might we open or close the aperture in our cooking? Can a dish express a slow time lapse exposure? Do you prefer to cook in color or black and white? Digital or film?
Fashion: How does that garnish or sauce 'hang' on the food? Does the fabric of the dish 'breathe'? How might you tailor an ingredient for a specific client? Do you take it in or let it out? How important are accesories?
I admit, some of this is a little 'out there'. But the process of simply writing it down has my head spinning with about a dozen possibilities. I'll no doubt forget every single one of them by time I enter the kitchen tomorrow. But such an exercise is almost a form of meditation, just as anything else can be. We practice manual skills all the time; giving your brain a work out can be just as useful.
Just thought I'd leave a comment to say that I think your blog is an absolute joy to read, intelligently written and always insightful. Please keep writing.
Posted by: Liz | March 16, 2009 at 10:42 AM
I do the same thing. I think it's fascinating to learn the details about all manner of things. It stems from the joy you can get from hearing someone talk about something they love.
Many modern chefs are taking inspiration from these other areas, finding ways to add to their toolkit of things they can use to play with the otherwise untouchable elements of the dining experience. Defy expectations and present something old in a new way. The hard part is to get everyone to "get" what you're trying to portray.
Posted by: Jason | March 16, 2009 at 12:03 PM
You are a BEAST!!!
Keep up the inspiring work...please.
Posted by: Kevin | March 16, 2009 at 12:36 PM
This really is quite thought provoking...a real pleasure to read something so well considered.
Posted by: Laura | March 16, 2009 at 03:55 PM
Jason,
I don't necessarily think that the diners have to 'get it'. Most people never stop to think about why something tastes good; in fact I would go so far to say that most people don't want to be told 'how' or 'why' they must enjoy it. I think it's OK for the chef to keep his or her intentions to themselves...
Posted by: Michael Laiskonis | March 16, 2009 at 09:23 PM
That makes one awesome read! Very well put together :-)
Posted by: Sneh | March 17, 2009 at 12:24 AM
I would really like to see a raw and plated influence by Hubert Selby.
Posted by: VE | March 17, 2009 at 02:11 AM
I just met a Dental Surgeon who studies Japanese. He told me about how learning to write the Kanji has helped him. Not quite in creativity but in his power of observation. It left me thinking about going and studying Japanese. ASAP.
Posted by: Roberto N. | March 17, 2009 at 03:32 AM
Michael--I can't express how exciting it is to hear chefs ask these questions. I work in food, fashion, and design and am surrounded by people in music, theater, literature and photography. When we talk of creativity, we speak in the same language with different accents.
Posted by: foodplayer | March 18, 2009 at 12:59 AM
Roberto,
Funny that you mention Japanese; I actually studied it for a few years way back in high school. I was also studying art at the time, and found that I was naturally fairly good at writing the hiragana and katakana alphabets. But it in turn also helped me in art class to some extent too. Kanji is a whole other animal, some 3000 characters.
I think language in general triggers an important part of your brain, and learning a new one certainly flexes those muscles!
And thanks, Foodplayer. Been a fan for some time!
Posted by: Michael Laiskonis | March 18, 2009 at 01:25 AM
Michael
I am a young cook and I just want you to know how much I learn in the small amount to post. Your posts are so interesting and I find that I often get huge spurts of creativity after reading them.
I love your ideas of thinking about food or a plate in terms of other forms of art. Its a really cool idea to draw inspiration from these areas.
I've started to stage in restaurants in Houston on my days off and I find myself learning so much everyday. Your posts are yet another resource I can use. You are a great inspiration to a young cook like myself.
Posted by: Matt | March 21, 2009 at 02:30 AM
We are studying presentation right now (I'm a culinary school student) so I found your discussion on creativity fascinating. But, I must say, it was the visuals that sparked the most ideas.
I can't wait to get back into the kitchen.
Cheers!
Posted by: CookingSchoolConfidential.com | March 22, 2009 at 11:52 AM
Oh my god.
This was one of the most delightful, inspiring and mind-tickling things I have read in a very long time.
Thank you, Michael, you made my day!
Posted by: Reuben Morningchilde | April 23, 2009 at 08:02 AM
This is a great post, thank you. Yes, this is exactly what cuisine is missing, the terms for discussing different movements in cooking: pointillism, figurative, abstract, punctuation, narrative, voice. My husband is an artist and I am a cook, so I am always trying to apply art terminology to cooking, but when I say something out loud I get a lot of blank looks. So I'm grateful to hear you say these things.
Right now the differences are just felt, heavily, by chefs and food followers, but some day I know that cooking will have a language, too.
Posted by: Amy in Minnesota | May 05, 2009 at 05:09 PM