When it comes to designing a menu, I go all out. There’s a great deal of contemplation, soul-searching, and research that goes into an extensive process which is really about digging into the mindset of a meal, its inner psyche. The first step is to establish the meal’s overall theme or feel, its raison d’etre, one might say. Then, I ask the simple question: If I was this theme, but I was food, what would I be? Fun game, right?
So the theme for FED: 8/28 is conflict resolution. Our presenter Roi Ben-Yehuda will speak eloquently to this topic (incidentally, you can see an example of his thoughtfulness and charisma here); I wanted the food to likewise represent this theme in its own, equally scintillating manner.
What kind of food is in conflict with itself? I gave this question considerable thought… and here is the menu I came up with for this gourmet, four-course meal!
First Course
Chaucerian Buckler Cake Bread
Grilled Vegetables
Torpedo Kibbeh
Israeli-Arab Salad
Vegetable Spears Drowning in Tehina
Soup
Two-toned Carrot Pea Soup
Main Course
Sweet and Sour Salmon over Coconut Rice
“Chicken”-and-egg Shakshuka
Pressure-Cooker Tuscan Bean Stew
Making a Tzimmes Out of It
Khoresht Gheymeh of Dried Lemon Split Peas
Saag Paneer Pie
Dessert
Chocolate truffle devil's hamburger in an angel food cake bun
You may be thinking, OK, that sounds delicious… but what does any of this have to do with conflict?
I said I like to get into the mindset of the theme, and I meant it. To help you understand the conflicted nature of this food, here is just a taste of how these foods spoke to me.
The Chaucerian Buckler Cake
It thinks: Be careful out there. It's the Middle Ages, and there are a lot of really unenlightened types roaming about. It is best if you carry a round shield called a buckler with you at all times. What, you say I'm carrying a round loaf of bread? What do you mean it’s a loaf of bread?
The conflict: Chaucer's Summoner seems conflicted as to what would happen to him first along his long journey: he would need to eat, or to avoid being eaten. Clearly he feels best prepared by adapting a middle road: carrying something which is shield-shaped, but actually a loaf of bread. This makes him a striking example of an early pacifist: make bread not war.
Grilled Vegetables
It thinks: Hey there eggplant, I'm not done talking to you! I have more questions, and I demand answers! Answers I say, answers!! Where were you the night that that zucchini got chopped to pieces? You're turning purple and breaking out in a salted sweat? Well if you can't take the heat, stay out of this kitchen!
Conflict: Boisterous vegetables can have antagonistic interrogation styles.
Two-toned Carrot Pea Soup
It thinks: Two soups are warring in the bowl: one, a vibrant orange; the other, a deep emerald green.
Conflict: The swirling of the warring soups creates a bold design which in its unexpected beauty is startlingly zen. There is an art to warfare. And sometimes the explosive energy of a deep and passionate war can be harnessed to create art.
Making a Tzimmes Out of It
It thinks: We were doing just fine with the carrots. Then those big mean sweet potatoes came on the scene. They started tossing around apricots. And plums. And then they all got stewed -- oh the horror!
Conflict: You will pardon this over-dramatization, but that's Yiddish expressions for you. To make a tzimmes is to make a big mess, fuss, or production out of a given situation. Many a conflict escalates because the drama between the players construes it into something greater and greater, until soon if you don't stop this tzimmes, you'll have to answer to the President of the United States himself! I'll stop. I just wanted some tzimmes. Thanks.
“Chicken”-and-egg Shakshuka
It thinks: It's an age-old question, really. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? It couldn't have been the egg - because who laid the first egg? It couldn't have been the chicken, because -- wait a minute, this is a vegetarian meal, there isn't any chicken! (but there's "chicken.") We could sit around debating the origins of this dish endlessly -- or we could just eat it all at once!
Conflict: 1. Really we just want to eat the damned chicken already... but we're vegetarian. 2. With the origins of this dish under such intractable dispute, one wonders how I'd manage to create it at all. This gets to complex metaphysical questions which are outside the scope of this blog post.
Stay tuned for more conflicted food coming soon to a dinner party near you.
So the theme for FED: 8/28 is conflict resolution. Our presenter Roi Ben-Yehuda will speak eloquently to this topic (incidentally, you can see an example of his thoughtfulness and charisma here); I wanted the food to likewise represent this theme in its own, equally scintillating manner.
What kind of food is in conflict with itself? I gave this question considerable thought… and here is the menu I came up with for this gourmet, four-course meal!
First Course
Chaucerian Buckler Cake Bread
Grilled Vegetables
Torpedo Kibbeh
Israeli-Arab Salad
Vegetable Spears Drowning in Tehina
Soup
Two-toned Carrot Pea Soup
Main Course
Sweet and Sour Salmon over Coconut Rice
“Chicken”-and-egg Shakshuka
Pressure-Cooker Tuscan Bean Stew
Making a Tzimmes Out of It
Khoresht Gheymeh of Dried Lemon Split Peas
Saag Paneer Pie
Dessert
Chocolate truffle devil's hamburger in an angel food cake bun
You may be thinking, OK, that sounds delicious… but what does any of this have to do with conflict?
I said I like to get into the mindset of the theme, and I meant it. To help you understand the conflicted nature of this food, here is just a taste of how these foods spoke to me.
The Chaucerian Buckler Cake
It thinks: Be careful out there. It's the Middle Ages, and there are a lot of really unenlightened types roaming about. It is best if you carry a round shield called a buckler with you at all times. What, you say I'm carrying a round loaf of bread? What do you mean it’s a loaf of bread?
The conflict: Chaucer's Summoner seems conflicted as to what would happen to him first along his long journey: he would need to eat, or to avoid being eaten. Clearly he feels best prepared by adapting a middle road: carrying something which is shield-shaped, but actually a loaf of bread. This makes him a striking example of an early pacifist: make bread not war.
Grilled Vegetables
It thinks: Hey there eggplant, I'm not done talking to you! I have more questions, and I demand answers! Answers I say, answers!! Where were you the night that that zucchini got chopped to pieces? You're turning purple and breaking out in a salted sweat? Well if you can't take the heat, stay out of this kitchen!
Conflict: Boisterous vegetables can have antagonistic interrogation styles.
Two-toned Carrot Pea Soup
It thinks: Two soups are warring in the bowl: one, a vibrant orange; the other, a deep emerald green.
Conflict: The swirling of the warring soups creates a bold design which in its unexpected beauty is startlingly zen. There is an art to warfare. And sometimes the explosive energy of a deep and passionate war can be harnessed to create art.
Making a Tzimmes Out of It
It thinks: We were doing just fine with the carrots. Then those big mean sweet potatoes came on the scene. They started tossing around apricots. And plums. And then they all got stewed -- oh the horror!
Conflict: You will pardon this over-dramatization, but that's Yiddish expressions for you. To make a tzimmes is to make a big mess, fuss, or production out of a given situation. Many a conflict escalates because the drama between the players construes it into something greater and greater, until soon if you don't stop this tzimmes, you'll have to answer to the President of the United States himself! I'll stop. I just wanted some tzimmes. Thanks.
“Chicken”-and-egg Shakshuka
It thinks: It's an age-old question, really. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? It couldn't have been the egg - because who laid the first egg? It couldn't have been the chicken, because -- wait a minute, this is a vegetarian meal, there isn't any chicken! (but there's "chicken.") We could sit around debating the origins of this dish endlessly -- or we could just eat it all at once!
Conflict: 1. Really we just want to eat the damned chicken already... but we're vegetarian. 2. With the origins of this dish under such intractable dispute, one wonders how I'd manage to create it at all. This gets to complex metaphysical questions which are outside the scope of this blog post.
Stay tuned for more conflicted food coming soon to a dinner party near you.