The Butterfly Effect

I like patterns-- whether flooding the deeply engraved grid of my waffles with syrup, numbering the crisp accordion pleats of my window blinds or watching paired birds of a feather perch upon a distant tree branch. It seems to me that there is an invisible story constantly being sketched upon the world ripe for the asking. The Butterfly Effect is another pattern albeit more abstract and a phrase that describes the idea that a small change during the initial stages of a dynamic system lead to more significant movements. While this scientific theory ultimately requires a higher understanding of mathematics than I currently possess, it has sparked the imagination of science fiction enthusiasts and even the creators of The Simpsons to wonder into the infinite variations that can occur over time with the change of a single variable. I sometimes imagine a detail of my life casting off a transparent thread pulling me ever so slightly down a new trajectory. Perhaps this is the reason why I deliberated so long as a child at the local Baskin Robbins. Fifty one flavors is a lot of choices to choose from and if you double your scoops, there are that many more: rocky road and pistachio or perhaps peppermint chip with a topper of chocolate with peanut butter ripple? Careful, life could be very different down the road. It is a fun game to be sure, one with no answers and only more questions. This week I was asked by Gattina to respond to the Butterfly Effect Meme created by Dan at Saltshaker, which by now has certainly traveled across the globe spurring maelstroms of frenzied baking and cycles of obsessive licorice eating in far away places…

Here are the variables:
An Ingredient
A dish, a recipe
A meal (restaurant, a home or elsewhere)
A cookbook or other written work
A food “personality” (chef, writer)
Another person in your life

Brie Cheese in the sixth grade: My teacher was introducing the class to foods of the world and we were currently being courted by France. In my exclusive little cheese world of Kraft single slices and mozzarella, Brie was odd man out, funny spaceman in a silver suit. She explained that the French ate this gooey mold encased cheese without removing the dusty white crust. Even at this tender young age, I recognized the French to be connoisseurs of good eating and in spite of being put off by the dry dingy rind, I ate it. This mold covered cheese shook me up. It was so wildly different from my homogeneous surroundings that biting into it was a promise of a bigger, colorful, more sophisticated world. I literally ate it up and vowed to save up my money to buy more of this funny French cheese.

Chicken Mole: My friend J_ of chocolate covered fruitcake nugget fame labored over a traditional mole. She fused together a Diana Kennedy and a Rick Bayless recipe to create her own. It had about five different kinds of chile, fresh lard from the butcher’s shop, almonds, sesame seeds, raisins, Mexican chocolate, corn tortillas, allspice, cinnamon stick, star anise, coriander, cumin, oregano, bay leaf and stock. Being that this was a test drive for an important event and receiving very mixed reviews, she asked me to be “the mouth”. While I have certainly eaten all kinds of wonderful food throughout my life, my first bite of this mole made me sweat. It was the most soulful thing I have ever eaten. It tasted of tradition and story, smoke and earth and passionate love.

Rare Roast beef with a friend: I was visiting the home of my best friend in college and we were sitting in her kitchen eating and talking, eating and talking. It was some time ago so the exact details are blurry but somehow between the two of us we ate an entire small roast beef. We happily sawed away at thick juicy slabs of meat which we repeatedly dunked in a magic pool of A-1 sauce. We drank hot cups of Horlick’s malt beverage, ate bowls of Cherry Garcia ice cream and then polished off a few bundles of sticky rice in lotus leaf. It was a strange hodgepodge of food that we consumed over the afternoon and evening. The time was magical, the food delicious and that meal--that friend always epitomized the essence of hospitality and generosity.

My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George: This is a children’s book that I read when I was about eleven which completely captured my imagination. The young boy in the story decides to head out to the Catskill Mountains and live off the land. He uses his ingenuity and wits to create home, find nourishment and stay safe. I admired Sam Gribley’s desire to define his own life and his ability to cull from the environment to fashion a simple, elegant and beautiful life. For the budding food enthusiast in me, the passages on food alone kept me reading: “Early the next morning, I got up and dug the tubers of the arrow-leaf that grew along the stream bank. I baked these and boiled mussels for breakfast…”

Aveline Kushi’s Complete Guide to Macrobiotic Cooking: For Health, Harmony, and Peace: While I am not a devout Macrobiotic follower, I enjoy the food and appreciate the philosophy of eating and living. Reading the book made me look at food differently- more holistically. It has made me more mindful of the ingredients, the method of cooking, the utensils used, one’s frame of mind while cooking and eating and the after effects of a meal. It makes me appreciate and see more clearly all aspects of nourishment.

Marisa's Mother: I have written a previous post about this cook and her influence upon me. She touched me with her open-kitchen policy towards me and generosity. Her cooking was simple and unpretentious but still had an elegance that came from a sharp attention to detail. What I appreciated also was how natural she was. There was no self-conscious attempt to teach me anything, she was just cooking in her kitchen and I was soaking it up.