by April Paffrath
I'm in Oxford, UK, right now, sitting by the fire at the Old Parsonage Hotel catching up on email and drinking a hot chocolate after the day is done. I'm here attending the Oxford Symposium on Food and Cookery. This year's theme is Food and Language and the papers presented have, for the most part, been wonderful. There is so much food for thought. If you'll forgive me, the ideas are really something to chew on. I think it will affect how I think of the way we communicate about food. I'm sure I'll share more, but I wanted to give you a brief visit along with me.
We've talked about literal tongues, or language. We've discussed recipes vs. dishes, pragmatic directions from recipe language and how we decide to write out recipes. We've talked about recipes as a way of talking through memories (à la M.F.K. Fisher and other amazing writers), the unspoken emotional language of recipe and flavor construction, the campaign languages that governments and groups use to convince and reassure people about their food—or to attempt better understanding. We've talked about the significance of food names and the registered DOC-type names, as well as certified labels like "organic." And those are only the sessions I went to. For every one of these listed, there were two I didn't get to. In fact, these are only the session conversations, not ones over meals, activities and more.
Interspersed with the paper presentations have been teas and coffees and drinks (and book signings) with fellow symposiasts, all of whom seem to be passionate about food and their chosen interaction with it. It completely and happily geeks me out in the food sense and the linguistic sense. I am loving it.
Each symposium meal is an event to behold. The first night, Fergus Henderson (Nose to Tail Eating, St. John's Restaurant) made a meal inspired by Samuel Pepys' diaries, specifically the famous Great Fire of London and meats. The meal was almost entirely meat—beef shin, boiled mutton in caper sauce, rabbit with peas, roasted quail, and more things that I'm forgetting in my fireside haze. Vegetarians weren't left out with a wonderful stuffed root vegetable (celeriac? turnip?). Even the parmesan puff-pastry sticks referenced Samuel Pepys, who buried his wheel of parmesan to save it from the fire. The end was dusted with chili to remind us of the fire.
For dessert, Bompas & Parr made an impressive jello mold (jelly, as they call it here) of St. Paul's Cathedral that was laid out on a table with a Thames strip of mirror winding along. The table was jam-packed with small jello houses of all different flavors. I had one with silver leaf in the house peaks that glimmered in the flash bulbs of eager symposiasts. It wasn't sweet, it was sharp and alcoholic. Speaking of alcohol, they lit a second version of St. Paul's aflame (it would dissolve as soon as it finished burning, so they used a second one). What a spectacle. I tasted someone else's jello and it was fruit-filled coconut milk. Amazing.
Tonight's dinner was a theme of the Language of French Gastronomy by Raymond Blanc of Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons and The Restaurant. It was spectacular. So rarely have I had a meal where all five senses are equally pleased. The flavor, the gorgeous colors and perfect appearance, the rich aromas, and the perfect perfect texture. Even sound was a factor with all of the pleasantly clanking silverware and wine bottles filling glasses.
It all began with a small cup of tomato essence. We were floored. It tasted like fresh, red, raw tomatoes. It wasn't a cooked flavor and it was so rich. Next came a salmon that was a gorgeous pink. (I'm allergic, so I had a phyllo sachet of vegetables over the same dill sauce and what I think were daikon radishes.) The main course was a tender roast, roasted root vegetables garnished with a dusting of vibrant and miniscule chives, and potato purée. The cheese plate followed with fantastic bread. Dessert was an apple and cider mousse with a green apple sorbet. The texture was delicate and wonderful. The vanilla paired with the apple changed both flavors perfectly.
After that came the petit fours of little chocolates and chocolate pops and macarons. Dinner lasted 3 1/2 hours. It was wonderful. All the while everyone talked with their neighbors about their love of food and the topics of the day.
So far, I've met some amazing people who truly love food. That's often the basis of my friendships, so you can imagine what fun I'm having. It's also been great to meet authors I have long admired and get into the mindset to consider what I do for a living—blend words with ideas, words and food.
We're heading to Paris next week, so we are fooding it up.
I always cook differently when I come home from a trip where I've had great meals. This time, I'll probably write about it differently, too.
Oxford AND food--what a fantastic combination! Thanks for giving us a glimpse of the Symposium.
Posted by: Nancy | 12 September 2009 at 09:42 PM
Hi April, only just got round to reading your blog. Well done - very evocative portrait of the symposium. Enjoyed meeting you - don't forget to call if you get over here again. BTW the cheese straws in French are called allumette - which is also an alternative word for a match - a good way of lighting fires! The word play and theme just runs and runs!
Posted by: Martin | 29 September 2009 at 07:13 AM