We feel it is necessary, in the wake of having opened a little
restaurant, to say something about having a bakery too. For many people who
have known Adam Robinson of old, his career took a strange and incomprehensible
turn when he started baking bread. There are many who could not take ‘this bread
baking business’ seriously. Undoubtedly, the analysis of why he did this
yielded many extraordinary theories. But what came through in conversation many
times, and still does, is that it is a good thing that he is finally cooking
food again. That he has a ‘proper’ restaurant. That he is doing what he is
meant to do.
The bakery is, of course, not by any means a proper restaurant. It
is not a restaurant of any stripe. Bread is not quail on semolina gnocchi,
chicken parfait or pappardelle with borlotti beans. But to dismiss what bread
is to nearly every traditional cuisine found worldwide, is to not know what
food is. To not understand how many Western European cuisines, to mention but a
few, has as a staple, bread, is to miss what is fundamental to eating in those
parts of the world. It is for this reason that most chefs w
The Glenwood Bakery is a paean to bread. And it signifies
Robinson’s interest in eating. It is, consequently, a big mistake to see his
interest, and this is interest is ongoing, in bread as an aberration to his
career. Learning to make good loaves is a necessary and natural part of
learning about food. And, given the rather academic dedication which knowledge
of bread demands, this pursuit is very far from an interruption to a career in
food. The cognoscenti might even insist that a serious excursion into bread is
utterly required for a complete set of culinary skills – a complete set, of
course, only being an ideal.
It is from the love for flour, salt and water that also comes
the love for pasta. It comes from understanding the technical nature of working
successfully with these ingredients, that a cook and restaurateur understands the
specific types of menus and kitchens that are a function of these foods. It
frequently is to a good sandwich that a chef comes home late at night. Similarly,
it seems perfectly normal to get into bed with a plate piled high with butter
and Bovril on sourdough toast, with tea, after a day of cooking some quite
sophisticated plates of food. And, when doing so, it seems nearly inevitable to
find oneself in a state of drowsy ecstasy at what one is putting into one’s
mouth, understanding fully, what it takes to make that bread.
These words are an acknowledgement of what The Glenwood Bakery
is to The Glenwood Restaurant.
No comments:
Post a Comment