Plating Food With Love
I was fortunate to have known both sets of grandparents. My grandparents on my mother’s side were farmers in south central Minnesota—a small town in Waseca County north of Albert Lea. My grandmother, Viola, was often described by my sister’s friends as “the grandmother who is short with red hair and plays the piano.” She was a force of nature who had a big personality and a sense of humor that sometimes caught you off guard. She worked hard—she had a farm to manage, children to feed and a house to keep. She learned to cook by trial and error, tasting and adding as she went, adjusting the consistency, seasoning, and texture along the way. She used to say “you’ll know when you have enough flour—you can feel it with your hands.”
Viola never used a recipe, and yet her meals appeared to have been measured and prepared with precision-like accuracy. There was nothing fancy about her cooking, but it was always the best meal you ever had, and nobody walked away hungry. She rarely sat at the table while everyone else ate. Instead, she would spy extra space on someone’s plate and immediately jump up and scoop more food, over their shoulder, without asking, and proclaim, “here you go, eat up, there’s more.”
She also never took a spoon full of food from the middle of a serving bowl because it wouldn’t look nice for the next person. She taught us to spoon the food from the edge of the bowl instead. Although she wasn’t a fancy cook, she had her principles regarding presentation. It had to look good.
My other grandparents lived in the same area but unlike my mother’s parents, my father’s parents lived in town, not on a farm. My grandmother Mary was once described as the kind of person who at a moment’s notice, without grocery shopping or planning, could whip up a meal for unexpected guests using only what she had on hand. It was nothing short of biblical—two fish and five loaves from next to nothing. Mary had a knack for interior design and home styling. She worked part time in a furniture store and, from time to time, would bring home a new accessory or castaway chair from the showroom floor. Unlike Viola, Mary had time to focus on her house. She loved to arrange flowers, read books, and decorate her home using what she had and making do with things that cost little or nothing. Her house always looked buttoned up, tidy, warm, and inviting. She knew happiness and beauty were free as long as you saw the possibilities. I like to think of her as an early version of Martha Stewart—crafty, resourceful, and creative.
Regardless who was cooking, my grandmothers took their roles as homemakers seriously and food was always the focal point. I learned to appreciate having food put on a plate and set in front of me. It was taken for granted at the time, but as an adult I can’t help but think about the amount of care and love that went into every meal.
As I grew into my teenage years, I would watch Julia Child (The French Chef) on PBS. I was captivated by her can-do, roll up your sleeves, let’s learn together, approach to teaching how to cook. Her mannerisms, peculiar voice inflections, and attention to detail were mesmerizing. It was as if I was in the kitchen with my grandmothers. She would describe the ingredients as if they had a personality—holding a rutabaga in the palm of her hand while leaning into the counter with her hip and sizing up the vegetable as if she was about to launch it across the room. You never knew what to expect with Julia. I appreciated her style of teaching. It was the first culinary classroom on television of its kind. And I know it shaped how I think about cooking.
Today, cooking and baking have taken on a completely new dimension, consumed by the cookbooks, radio shows, television programs, and the hundreds of chef celebrities who have amassed fortunes with their product endorsements and on-air personalities—their programs focusing on contests rather than content. Everyone is competing for the quickest, most extravagant, best tasting dish ever. And viewers can’t seem to get enough. The 10 wealthiest chefs in the world have net worth that range from $6 million to $235 million.
While the rest of us may not become rich and famous, there is one thing anyone can do to feel like a celebrity chef: Craft a beautiful plate. There is nothing more civilized than a beautiful presentation. I’m kind of a fanatic when it comes to styling a room, making a bed, folding towels, or setting a table. Presenting something in a way that is thoughtful, stylish and beautiful to look at is something anyone can learn to do and it can elevate the experience dramatically. Whether you’re cooking for a dinner party or for yourself, take time to arrange the food carefully and artfully. Think about the different colors and textures of your food and pair them in a way that looks appealing and appetizing. For example, mashed potatoes and cooked cauliflower wouldn’t look very attractive side by side. Instead pair foods that have more contrasts—darker colors next to lighter colors. Pay attention to textures of foods as well—smooth sauces around a perfectly seared filet of fish can be visually stimulating. Certain textures will allow you to stack food, while other textures are better presented flat on a plate.
Whatever you’re preparing, take time to think about how it will look when it’s in front of you on the table. Finding a way to make the everyday beautiful is key to enjoying the simple pleasures in life and enjoying the things that are free. Happy cooking and bon appetit!
This post was originally written for Art in Bloom 2019 at Mia