The Authenticity of the Moment

I have been ten days in this temple
and my heart is restless.
The scarlet thread of lust at my feet
has reached up long.
If someday you come looking for me,
I will be in a shop that sells fine seafood,
a good drinking place,
or a brothel.
        -  Ikkyu, fifteenth-century Zen buddhist high priest
                                                         (Intro to Momofuku)


It's a cookbook.  That's it really.  There are beautiful pictures of carefully prepared and posed dishes, lists of ingredients, detailed instructions and stories.

The authors are David Chang and Peter Meehan and the book is called Momofuku.  My sister gave it to me for my birthday.  I haven't made anything from the book yet, but I pick it up every once in awhile and savor the dishes and the stories with my eyes.

It is the type of book that could make your mind turn to jello.  Beautiful and surreal in its' utter intangibility.  But, somehow it manages to stay above the soulless corporate crap cranked out by the Martha machine.  It is so simple that you believe in it without feeling betrayed.

Life, is about figuring it all out.  It is about finding things that work and tucking them away to use, or share with someone, later.  I love that type of story.  Someone with no direction, no need for direction, just a need to know and the will to keep going; just to keep looking.

Someday I will visit Momofuku, or maybe I won't.  I see the heart and soul that made the restaurant and the dishes in this book come to life and I would hope that when the first taste of food touches my tongue I can feel all that passion.  But, I might not.

What makes it all so intriguing is the fact that David is just a guy who loves food.  He loves the simple noodle houses and family meals that make the milestones of life.  He created a restaurant that is nothing more than an expression of that love, and the world shows up at his doorstep.

You have to ask yourself, are people there because the food is so good, or because of the passion?  The struggle is, how do you keep that fire burning?  How do you feed the masses without turning your back on what it is that made you successful?

My world is one of speed and commodity and I struggle with the same thing.  How do you make something taste like home without putting out the light that makes it special?  How do you create a sense of warmth and happiness in a world that has so many demands?  How do you create passion in a group that is just trying to make it to the next rent payment?

The 5:10 egg.  There are directions on how to make the perfect soft boiled egg.  The photo elicits a taste on your tongue.  It is creamy and soft and the juxtaposition of the salty caviar in the photo is a perfect balance.  I haven't ever tried the dish, but I can tell.

"And that second meal at Noodle Bar just killed me.  It was so fucking good, 

and not in some lightbulby way, but because it was gutsy.  It was honest.  

It was delicious, that least descriptive of all food words, 

but it was 

and it was so in a way 

that made me want more."

                                                      - intro to Momofuku, Peter Meehan

When I was in college, a group of friends and I went to Key West, like thousands of other college kids, for spring break.  One night, my friend and I were walking down the street and heard a really good Jimmy Buffet cover singer from one of the bars.  Both of us were huge fans and we squeezed through the door.  Sitting on a bar stool, with a ridiculous looking floppy hat and a pair of dark sunglasses was a guy belting out Jimmy's biggest hits.  The room was relaxed and we all sung along with the music.  The guy was good.

The next day as we thought about how good he was and how goofy the guy looked.  We realized that it could have been Jimmy.  It was one of his favorite places, I had heard stories of him doing just that...  One way or another, the music was good and the room was warm and friendly and you could see why a performer who regularly played to thousands would want to come back to a small room.  It was all about that feeling, that warmth, that authenticity of the moment.

We all eat.  We shove things in our mouths to get us from today to tomorrow.  At one point in my life I remember eating just to eat.  Most of what I put into my mouth was crap.  I remember thinking that I would take one more bite, because the next bite will be good.  I would repeat that over and over through an entire bowl of cheese dip, at the end bloated and disgusted with myself.

With that in mind, how powerful is it to create food that satisfies just by talking about it?

To create is to satisfy.  Successful satiation is peace.