My Brother-in-Law, Chef Massimo Bottura

Massimo Bottura – Evolution, not revolution!

Luciana Bianchi, March 8, 2010

Avant-garde cuisine has enabled some chefs like Ferran Adrià and Massimo Bottura to be recognised not only as chefs, but as artists both inside and outside their kitchens. In recent years, Bottura’s work has gained recognition in the international “gastro-community”, and also among artists and art lovers. His presentations in gastronomy congresses convey food with a unique artistic and philosophical expression, which could well be presented at the Tate Modern. Massimo is a man who admires art, music, history and poetry and is a perfectionist, deeply in love with his job.

Osteria Francescana

The restaurant Osteria Francescana lies in the heart of the beautiful region of Emilia Romagna, in Modena. Surrounded by some of the greatest Italian food and wine producers, this region is the home of Parmigiano Reggiano, Grana Padano, Prosciutto di Parma, Sangiovese di Romagna, Colli di Rimini, Aceto Balsamico di Modena, and a long list of high quality products. The region has found in Bottura an ambassador of its flavours, but not in a conventional way. His cuisine respects and reflects tradition, but has its own free-spirit, always questioning the old and the new, pushing the boundaries, and opening doors to innovations and new cultural experiences.

His dishes have a rare combination of complex elaboration and poetic simplicity, with detailed research, reflection and passion.

Sottobosco

Bolitto misto non bolitto

The theme of the 6^th Identità Golose in Milan was ‘The Luxury of Simplicity’, and had several highlights, including Carlo Petrini, from the Slow Food Movement, Franck Cerutti, and the brothers Massimiliano and Raffaele Alajmo.

Bottura at Identità Golose

Only a few days after the Madrid Fusión, the Italian Chef Congress witnessed a historical speech by chef Massimo Bottura, which still echoes on the news and food blogs around the world. To quote some of his words:

“”In a moment of great confusion, of witch hunts, cuisine is an oasis of peace.”

“…it is through comparison that identities take shape. I try to never renegade the past, but from the past I search for future development. It’s not a revolution but my search for evolution!”

“…research is closer to product and tradition than we imagine – it is a way of expressing our passions.”

At the Identità Golose, Bottura was named“chef of the year” by Paolo Marchi, and “the best Italian chef of the present and future”by Alain Ducasse.

Osteria Francescana

Via Stella, 22 / Modena – Italy

Tel.(+39) 059.210118

A final note: On April 28th, the S. Pellegrino World's 50 Best Restaurants 2010 announced that Osteria Francescana landed the No. 6 spot.

An education

I had a poignant moment last night to reflect on life, on opportunities, on being lucky. It began while I was putting Quinn to bed and a simple statement by Quinn:

Quinn: "I want us to buy this house." (we are renting a lovely house in Boulder)

Alex: "It's a possibility, however, I can't make any promises. It is an expensive house."

Quinn: "I can give you some money. I have some ones and some fives."

Alex: "How nice of you. But I want you save your money."

Quinn: "Oh, like for college."

Alex: "Yes, exactly."

Indeed, it was a nice moment, but I didn't feel the full impact of the short conversation until hours later, after I had watched the heartbreaking movie "Precious". Everyone knows the story by now: young teenage girl abused to a breaking point by her mother and father, only to be saved by educators who help her discover the meaning of friendship and love. I have to admit I could barely fathom the abuse she endured. Her mother's abuse was so wicked and bitter, from verbal and physical assaults to seething hostility towards Precious's desire for an education. The contrast between Precious's life and Quinn's life couldn't be more stark, their home environments more opposite, their opportunities more different. I winced through the whole movie and felt heavy-hearted going to bed. Precious didn't choose her parents and neither did Quinn. When I am feeling low about my parenting abilities, I will try to remember Quinn's last comment and know that he will probably be okay. Maybe better than okay.

Take me out the Ball Park

It would be a stretch to say that I love baseball. I think it is fair to say that I like baseball, occasionally. Now that Cole is on a North Boulder Little League team (his 5^th LL season) and I have 12 games on my calendar and 12 post game, team-building dinners also on my calendar, I think it is time to face the challenge: am I going to remain uncommitted to this sport, vague about the rules and rituals, annoyed by the two hour games or am I going to embrace and enjoy the season, follow the plays and count the RBIs and find my powerful voice to cheer the team to their wins. The motivation to choose the latter course is obvious. To know Cole is to know about his love for baseball. Many boys gravitate to sports early, and I can trace Cole's love of a bat and ball to age 2, when he hit his first plastic ball across the lawn. From there it progressed to a loyalty to the Yankees (my NY roots run strong) and a joy of playing the game. There are obvious advantages to being on a team, like discipline and camaraderie and sportsmanship. Plus, he gets to experience firsthand one of America's most treasured and enduring pastimes, something most people only do from their couch or stadium stands. So after my private pep talk, I tried on my new attitude. I found my proud and loud mom-in-the-bleachers voice and tested it out with calls like “Good eye!” and “Good swing!” and “Nice try”. After two hours and barely enough light to see the ball, the game ended a disappointing 5-6 and just a little part of me wished we had another inning to even the score.

Good Mornin' Colorado!

Run!

Grant ran his first 1/2 marathon this morning in Nashville, TN. These are the signs that Grant had the boys make for me when I ran my first (and only) half in Los Angeles last year. We pre-arranged to meet at mile 8. When I was suddenly struck by a leg cramp in the first mile, all I could do was hope that it would ease and that I would get to mile 8. For a while I wasn't sure, however, after a few slow miles the cramp subsided and by mile 8 I had something close to a smile on my face. My four biggest fans looked pretty happy too.

Snow in April!

Well, it snowed today, April 23rd. All the gardening books predict snow in April and they were right. I was in deep denial of the possibility. What a treacherous week it was for plants. On Wednesday, a violent hail storm decimated my 4 inch pots of tender herbs that were cheerily waiting to be planted. It covered the ground with giant gumball-size pellets of ice. There was a pungent herbaceous aroma when I finally opened the door, the sweet smell of masticated grass, buds and flowers. I immediately registered it as a new smell. Not a California smell, definitely a Colorado smell.

Living with Art

Grant received this wonderful drawing for his birthday from his father Sandy. It is a piece of art by Aristides Ruiz, an American artist whose works in pen and ink and pencil are painstakingly produced and so realistic they are often mistaken for photographs. We have been admiring this drawing since he acquired it in 1996 and now it hangs prominently in our dining room. My parents were casual collectors of art and I remember much of the art that hung in our house in Mt. Kisco, NY. There was the dark Colombian piece that hung in two different places during the 27 years my parents owned that house. It was an oil painting with so many dark hues you could barely discern a woman holding a child. I didn't approve when they moved it from our dining room to my father's office. It was part of the fixed landscape of the dining room and transplanting to another location struck me at the time like moving an old tree. Inconsiderate. I wonder what our kids will remember from these pieces of art that surround them. Will they ask for them one day? Will they have attachments that run deep? I imagine that one of my boys is going to want the drawing of the cool young man with the earrings and goatee. But I could be wrong.

Grant Turns 40!

Happy Birthday, Grant! My, how you've grown! There will be so much unspoken, unmeasured, unrecognized at this milestone in your life. All that you are can never be fully expressed or measured, but is deeply and plainly known to all of us who know and love you.

Happy Easter!

Silver and Gold Barber Shop

In the age of ipads and psps an wiis and xbox360s, I am glad that my kids can still experience an old fashioned barber shop. And a $10 "fruit cut". I didn't have the heart or the need to tell him that it is really called a "crew cut".

When parents fight

Grant and I don’t fight. We barely ever raise our voices at each other. We bicker and argue like all couples, but it rarely escalates. So it was strange to find ourselves in a heated exchange this morning, but not altogether remarkable considering the cause: our children. Grant seems to think that we give them too much decision-making power in the house and that I tend to be too conciliatory and lenient. So when Cole came downstairs in shorts after being instructed to wear pants and Quinn was still wearing pants with holes in the knees after being instructed to wear non-holey pants and Carson was still in the same shirt as yesterday, I partially took my children’s side. What’s the big deal, right? For Grant, it was a matter of respect. He is tired of our children talking back to us and defying simple requests. In essence, he is tired of our house being run as a democracy. And he is right. Just this summer I completed one of the best parenting books I had ever read, Blessings of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self Reliant Children. The author, Wendy Mogel, addresses this very issue in her book, pointing out that many households today are run as democracies, leaving children overly empowered and parents frustrated. She makes a persuasive case that parents should reclaim the helm and give children more decision-making power as they earn it. She also has great sections on the overindulged, overscheduled, overprotected child, with a clear blueprint for how to mentor your children both spiritually and emotionally. I highly recommend the book.

But back to my life and my communication with Grant. While we were both very angry, we eventually got into a great discussion about our parenting, a much needed State of the Union on the Besser 2010 parenting plan. Clearly, today we were wildly off in terms of our communication and parenting. We sent our children the wrong message and Grant came off looking like the bad guy. I realized I had violated one of the most cardinal creeds of parenting: don't contradict your spouse (or at least hold your words until the kids are gone). Consistency is the foundation for all good parenting and my words were like a sledgehammer to that important footing. But at least it wasn't a fight over something critical to our children's lives and futures. We are hopefully working on getting our messaging right so that when the tsunamis of middle and high school hit us, we will have our parenting dikes and levies solid as fortresses.

Spring Break Pictures

In order: Cole coming up for air; Richard Neutra's stunning Kaufmann House; Carson in Tahquitz canyon; Grant in his new favorite hat; Alex showing a preternatural ability at put-put; agaves and cruisers.

Spring Break in California

We visited California for the boys' spring break, spending 6 nights in our old neighborhood in Altadena with friends and three nights in Palm Springs. After what might be recorded as Boulder's snowiest winters in over 100 years (120 inches and counting), this is what we needed: warmth and sun. The bonus was all of the friends we got to see, a visit to our old house, shopping and eating LA style and a reminder that just because you leave a place you can always go back. So how did it feel? It’s complicated. After 13 years, a large part of my young adult history is archived in Los Angeles. My children’s childhoods are firmly rooted in Los Angeles, especially Cole and Carson who spent almost a decade there. There will always be a big spot in my heart for LA. So many rites of passage were experienced there—first house, marriage, children—all the common certificates of adulthood, completed and framed in my personal history during my years in LA. I was able to see with great clarity what I left behind---intoxicating springs that come in early March; friendships that are irreplaceable; familiarity that brings great comfort and depth to your life. I was also able to understand what I had gained: great public schools that allow parents not to spend part of every conversation talking about what school their child is trying to get into and how they are going to pay for it; the architecture of a small town that affords ease and endless opportunities for community building; new friendships that hold tons of promise. In other words, I feel blessed to experience these two places at two different junctures in my life. And blessed to experience the richness of each and to understand their value. Simple translation: closure.