Envision a cut of bacon, heating on the griddle, spitting all its spittle, wafting lovely odor, becoming tasty fodder. It’s almost poetic. It commands the attention of every sense. The first stanza, once eaten, reminds me of the goodness of home, family meals, and luxurious breakfast. It comforts.
Good art does that. Good art touches our emotions by provoking our senses in a way that awes, excites, or inspires. In that way, cooking is one of the greatest arts. Visitors to art museums do not touch the paintings. Sculptors usually refrain from eating their sculptures upon completion. Musicians can only wish that they could smell their music. In unique contrast, the skilled chef produces art that seizes all the senses. Good food smells heavenly and tastes divinely. It has a pleasing texture. The sound of cooking food produces excitement and expectation. Visually speaking, in its color and shape, well-crafted food stirs the emotions. Eating good food is a joyful explosion of the senses. Good cooking is the dynamite.
The chefs at Bon Appétit know this dynamite well. Patrick Leach, lead cook at Bon Appétit’s “Passport” section, begins with presentation.
“The first thing anybody does is eat with their eyes,” he said.
Successful presentation and delivery rely on creativity, experience, and meticulous work.
Bon Appétit Executive Chef Steve Hickman devises many of the food service’s recipes, and his years of work as a professional chef have allowed him to retain a precise sense of how the dishes ought to taste. In making Hickman’s version of caramel chicken, lead cook Joe Moncada tastes the sauce again and again in an effort to reach the perfect flavor. When unsure, Moncada asks Hickman to sample the sauce, with his practiced taste. According to Hickman, every cooking station has tasting spoons, and cooks ask Hickman or one of his sous-chefs to check the taste of their dishes throughout the cooking process.
Both Hickman and Moncada stressed that the purposeful techniques found in Bon Appétit’s kitchen are not found in other college dining hall kitchens.
“Before Bon Appétit got to Hillsdale, it was pretty much heat and serve,” Moncada said.
Beyond creativity and determined work, the chefs at Bon Appétit possess passion for cooking. In his free time, Hickman enjoys cooking Midwestern game birds, fresh lake seafood, and local herbs.
Moncada named garlic as an ingredient that gives him particular joy. He pursues cooking because he delights in making the food: he says it’s like making a painting.
“Here at Bon Appétit, everyone loves what they do,” Leach said.
Executive Chef Hickman’s passion particularly flares when he describes his vision of how food ought to be treated and made. He considers a large amount of the success of his art to rely on fresh ingredients.
A cook, he said, especially one that serves such large numbers, must check meticulously the freshness of his ingredients. Poorly treated supplies will not only taste badly but will also potentially prove hazardous to safety. Once assured of freshness, a cook must then know when to stop tampering and adding. Food must not become too complex, or the flavor of one ingredient will damage the flavor of another.
“Simple foods are better foods,” Hickman said.
Even superior to the act of making and tasting, the greatest joy of the chef’s art seems to come in serving their food. They aspire to create masterpieces because they hope to delight those who consume their food. Perhaps unlike many modern art painters and sculptors, whose esoteric self-expression confounds the uninitiated viewer, chefs aim to please all who consume their work.
For Hickman, Moncada, and Leach, who serve around 2,500 people daily alongside their colleagues, this devotion to others’ satisfaction means investing huge amounts of energy to sheltering those with food sensitivities from danger while serving them delicious food. It means analyzing all 400 pounds of pot roast to ensure its freshness. It means littering the kitchen with tasting spoons.
“When you’re feeding 3,000 people, you have to stay on top of not just the flavor of food but the safety, the handling of it,” Hickman said, “Because someone is going to sit down and eat that.”
Whenever he gets the opportunity, Moncada watches the procession of plates coming in from the dining hall.
“Empty plates are beautiful for us,” he said.
In this way, cooking is unusual among the arts. It is not art for the sake of art or lofty ideals. It is art for the sake of uplifting the minds and stomachs of those who savor it.
