The Library

There are so many, many known flavor combinations out there. Thousands of years of paring ingredients, experimenting, rejecting, refining, repeating, has yielded a vast library of possible culinary alliances. A great deal of becoming a chef is familiarizing yourself with this library and learning the cross-referencing system, that is, how to determine what foods will taste good together. The knowledge-base is not limited to just flavors, but includes aromas, temperatures, and textures as well. The best chefs can navigate this reference so well that they don't even need to taste a combination to know that it will work. In The Soul of a Chef Michael Ruhlman tells of a conversation he had with the chef Thomas Keller about a dish on his menu – oysters and pearls (tapioca pearls). When queried on what Keller himself though of the dish he replied: “I've never tasted it.... I know it tastes good. You don't have to stick your hands in a fire to know it's hot.”

I, and I am quick to admit, am not one of these chefs. Neither, in fact, are any of the chefs I know. This sort of ability to know, with great certainty, that two or three flavors will come together in a pleasing manner without actually trying them is the realm of true masters.

That's not to say the rest of us professional cooks don't possess some of this ability. We often have an inkling, a hunch that some weird combination of flavors might just taste good. The difference is we have to try them out, test and tweak and taste again, before we're ready to try them out on you, the customer.

The skill works in reverse, too. One chef describing to another a new dish will list the ingredients and preparation methods. Any decent chef will be able to construct in his mind an idea of what the dish will taste like. This ability is particularly handy when dining out. Upon reading a menu description wherein the ingredients don't seem to add up, I ask myself: “Do I trust this chef?” If the answer is “yes,” if I really believe that this particular person has the skill to make an odd combo taste amazing, I'll risk it. If the answer is negative, well... look for the safe option.

All of these things are fallible. I, at times, opt out of a dish which turns out to be amazing; I order one which is as odd as it reads on the menu. I occasionally envisage combinations which are, in fact, unpalatable. And, sometimes, I fail to appreciate a grouping of ingredients which go incredibly well together.

This failure, that of lack of imagination is, at times, the case with all chefs I've met, especially when it comes to the subject of this week's post. It is a summery salad, Greek in origin, combining a small number of ingredients which one might not otherwise consider eating together. Nearly every chef I know who has encountered this salad in concept before tasting has turned up his nose, including myself, until the first bite.



Feta, Watermelon, Mint, and Pomegranate Salad

This is the sort of salad you pull out at a summer pot luck. Sit back and watch the looks of quiet amazement as everyone realizes how bloody good this actually tastes. You can serve this on its own, as we are here, but it makes a delicious accompaniment to some honey-glazed, bbq-chicken wings or some such.

1k watermelon, cut into 1cm cubes
100g feta, cut into 1cm cubes
seeds from ¼ pomegranate
¼ cheek spanish onion, finely sliced
6 lg mint leaves, chiffonade

Toss all the ingredients together, taking care not to break any of them up. Season lightly, dress (below), and serve.

If you are particularly good with a knife and you can make perfect cubes of both the the melon and the feta, you could serve this salad as a sort of rubick's cube of red and white with the other ingredients (green, purple and ruby) stuck in between. Sounds like a lot of work, but it sure would look good.

juice 1 lime
50 ml olive oil

Combine the juice and oil, season liberally, and dress the above salad.