"A light lunch in Spain" < 請點這個video
我不知道，我好感動，不管是宣傳或公關或者什麼奇他陽謀，總之每次看 Ferran Adria 講述他的想法、創意和新點子都讓我好激動 (而且他們兩人的法文爛到連我都聽得懂)。
這篇報導也非常好看 (原文和翻譯在下面)。文章中提到，餐廳的員工餐大多很爛，而Ferran 的新書"The Family Meal"講的就是他們實驗三年的員工餐廳伙食，因為員工就是家人啊，他說。
這食譜每餐(午餐)的成本不超過五美元("like a burger, a bad burger!")，要包含前菜、主菜和甜點，簡單程度必須要能讓兩位資淺廚師在一小時內完成大約75人份，換句話說，這根本是忙碌現代人無暇或無能料理時的恩物，想必也非常適合留學生吧。對了，原來巧克力麵包是西班牙傳統甜食，我在此地的西班牙館子點過，大為驚豔。請務必要試試看，不要懷疑，烤麵包，苦甜巧克力，淋上特級處女橄欖油和海鹽，真的好吃啊!
The Gastronomist Gets Real
By MARK BITTMAN
“No, you don’t understand.” It wasn’t the first time I’d heard those words from Ferran Adrià, the chef and driving force behind El Bulli, the oft-proclaimed world’s greatest restaurant, which he recently announced is going to close in July. In my dozen or so visits with him over the last 10 years in northeastern Spain and in New York, it seemed there was always some point I was missing.
「不是這樣，你不懂啦!」我不是我第一次聽Ferran Adria(以下簡稱FA)，這位通常被冠以「世上最偉大餐廳」榮銜，卻將在七月歇業的El Bulli 餐廳的龍頭、舵手，這樣子對我說。在我過去十年來，無論西班牙東北或者紐約市，十數次拜訪他的機會裡，我似乎總是有什麼地方，在FA眼中看來，是搞錯的。
This time, my misunderstanding wasn’t a theoretical point of avant-garde cooking (a term he understandably prefers to the meaningless “molecular gastronomy”). Rather, the disagreement was about cooking at home, something I might actually know more about than he does. My position was that you can’t call a dish “simple” if it requires things like premade stocks, sauces and condiments. His (as best as I could interpret it; we were arguing in French) was that anyone who really wants to cook has to have these things around anyway.
It wasn’t an academic argument, because we were at his restaurant trying to determine which dishes to prepare from his coming book, “The Family Meal: Home Cooking With Ferran Adrià.” The book is a collection of recipes and menus Adrià has used over the last three years or so when making meals for El Bulli’s staff, and it gave me an excuse to do something I’d never done with him: cook.
這不是什麼學術性的爭辯，因為此刻在他的餐廳，我們正準備決定要從他的新書"El Bulli 外帶全家餐:與Ferran Adria一起製作家庭料理"裡決定要挑什麼菜出來做。這本書總結了過去三年多FA在El Bulli餐廳裡準備員工餐所採用的食譜與菜單，而這，則給了我一個好藉口去做件以前從來沒有和他一同做過的事:煮菜。
Most journalistic visits to El Bulli revolve around listening to Adrià talk about “creativity” (his code word for just about everything that goes on at the restaurant) and how he is misunderstood (“It’s too bad I have to remind people that I believe that the most important thing is taste,” he once commented to me) and about the latest ways he and his team have found to make liquids into solids (and vice versa) and distill flavors to profound intensity levels. My visit — set up in January, for April — was sidetracked by his announcement in the interim that the restaurant would close.
大部份的時候，到 El Bulli 採訪總是圍繞著FA聽他談論創意(他餐廳裡的通關密碼，關於一切的最高指導原則)、他如何為世人誤解(「太糟了，我竟得不斷跟人們提醒我最重視的是"味道"!」，他曾這麼告訴我)，以及他和他的團隊最新開發出來將食物從液態變成固態---亦可反其道而行---或是如何將味道提煉至更強烈層次的法門。而我這在一月定案，四月成行的拜訪，卻剛巧因為他中間宣佈將永久關閉餐廳而「岔題」了。
Certainly I was interested in the hubbub around the closing and Adrià’s announcement of the creation of the El Bulli Foundation, a gastronomic think tank he says will open in 2014. But what I really wanted — especially if this was the last opportunity — was to see a little more of the behind-the-scenes El Bulli, the comings and goings of the 80 or so people who work there on any given day. And I wanted to cook real food with Adrià.
當然，我對餐廳即將關門，以及FA宣佈將在2014開幕的料理智庫El Bulli基金會的消息引起的騷動很感興趣。但我真正想要的，尤其在餐廳即將關門之際的最後機會，是一探el Bulli的後台，瞧瞧廚房裡八十多名工作人員們的日常工作情形，還有，我想要和Ferran Adria 一起真正來煮點什麼。
Much of this was driven by my knowledge that Adrià’s own preferences lie in the realm of extremely simple fare. The first time I went out to dinner with him, we polished off a plate of ham — pata negra, the really good Spanish stuff — while he rubbed the fat of each piece on his lips to savor the texture as well as the flavor and, of course, instructed me and everyone else at the table to do the same. In subsequent meals together, in Barcelona and in New York, we dug into dim sum, Korean food and other nonhaute cuisine. On my last three visits, I asked him where to eat in Roses, the nearest real town to El Bulli (and one with a radically upscale clientele for exactly this reason), and he pointed me to two seafood restaurants where the food usually contains no more than impeccable local shellfish, olive oil, salt and occasionally lemon.
這背後的靈感來自於我曉得FA其實最傾心簡單、美味的食物。記得第一次和他出外用餐時，他嗑光了一盤火腿，一種叫pata negra的西班牙好貨，還用嘴唇親吻每一片火腿的肥膘，只為了充份品嚐他們的質地與滋味，當然，他也不忘了要我以及同桌其他人做同樣的動作。接下來好幾次，無論在西班牙或是紐約，我們一起殺去吃飲茶、韓國菜、以及其他金字塔底端的美食(譯註:我們也有去吃過FA品嚐過的博多美肌鍋喔，科科)。在我最後三次的拜訪裡，我曾問他在Roses---一座最接近 El Bulli 的真正城鎮，且因為如此擁有品味高到離譜的飲食消費客層--該上哪用餐?他指點我兩家海鮮餐廳，在那些地方，菜肴通常只包含當地品質絕佳的魚介、橄欖油、鹽，偶爾加上點檸檬而已。
And now he has written a book about making staff meals. Most restaurants of any size serve a staff meal, though it’s traditional rather than required. The people I know who have worked in restaurants say, simply, the meals are usually awful. This is true even in good restaurants; staff meals are seen as an obligation, they’re assigned to the lowest-level cooks and they’re expected to cost nothing. The archetypal meal is made from food that’s left over or about to go bad — or maybe did go bad, but only recently.
如今，他出了一本關於(餐廳)員工餐的書。嗯，無論規模大小，多數餐廳都會提供員工餐飲，不過那比較像基於因循傳統而非實際需求。我所認識在餐廳工作過的人告訴我，那些食物簡單講就是令人不敢恭維至極，哪怕好餐廳也是如此(譯註:不過 French Laundry 的看來還不錯)。員工餐被視為是餐廳的義務，通常被指派給最低階的廚子負責，且被要求以"零成本"製作---多半用餐廳剩下或快壞掉或者已經壞掉只是還不算太久的食材做成。
Even at El Bulli, the staff meals weren’t always fantastic: “The restaurant has always been organized,” Adrià told me through a translator. “But the staff meals? No; usually in a restaurant you always know what your clients are going to eat, but you never know what the staff is going to eat.” He continued, “In Spain, the staff is the family.” So, three years ago, Adrià teamed with Eugeni de Diego, a member of his core team, to rethink what they ate. “We decided,” he said, “to use the same organization for the staff meals as the one we use for clients, and we began planning them a month in advance.”
即使是在El Bulli，員工餐也很難總是稱得上「精采」。「餐廳本身的運作一向照表操課」FA透過翻譯告訴我「至於員工餐呢?門兒都沒有。通常在一間餐廳你總是知道要給顧客吃些什麼，但你無法預期要給員工吃什麼。」他繼續說道:「在西班牙，員工就像家人一樣。」為了他們，三年前FA與餐廳的核心成員之一 Eugenu de Diego 一起重新思考該給員工吃什麼「我們決定為員工餐採取和餐廳套餐一樣的組織架構，我們在一個月前就預先規畫好每天的員工伙食。」他說。
Like the staffs of many great and even not-so-great restaurants, that of El Bulli practically bleeds onto the floor every night. (“You want to learn how to cook in good restaurants?” a chef asked me recently. “You work 110 hours a week.”) Most are underpaid (35 are interns who are unpaid), and most consider it an honor to do little more than learn from the permanent kitchen staff of about 12.
It seemed only fair, then, to feed them something decent. And so a couple of the most talented chefs in the world effectively created a restaurant within a restaurant, serving a single prix-fixe menu to 75 or 80 staff members, with these requirements: The cost was to be 3 euros — about $4.50 — per person. “The cost of a hamburger,” Adrià says. “A bad hamburger.” It was to be a real menu: a starter, a main course and dessert, along with coffee, water and bread. The meal was to be prepared by two or three staff members, quickly: in theory, in less than an hour.
On the first day of my visit, Adrià and I watched while, in the late afternoon, two sous chefs began assembling ingredients in the small, workmanlike prep kitchen off the main, showy kitchen. The quantities, for home cooks, were, of course, staggering — as was the equipment — but the techniques were pretty straightforward. They were making two of the recipes from “Family Cooking”: gazpacho — simple enough — and a fantastic black rice with cuttlefish, its ink, sofrito, green sauce and aioli.
It was this dish that led to our argument about what simple cooking meant. “You call this fast?” I protested. Adrià countered that I wasn’t understanding the difference between what you might call (in French) “cuisine simple” and “cuisine traditionnelle,” the first being the kind of cooking that I (and, I imagine, most people) do 99 percent of the time; the second being the kind that might start with “cook the cuttlefish and add the sofrito.”
Sofrito is no more than onions, tomatoes, garlic and oil, but it’s cooked for a long time, and it’s not something you start putting together on a weeknight, especially if your other tasks include making green sauce and aioli and, if you haven’t already done so, running out to buy cuttlefish ink, which, contrary to Adrià’s insistence, is not available everywhere. And especially if you’re going to claim that these are recipes that “can be done in an hour.”
Never mind; this is a terrific black-rice dish if an involved one, made up for perhaps by the simplicity of the gazpacho and even more so by the incredible dessert, which we helped make: chocolate bread. (Adrià ate this as a snack when he was boy and happily polished off a piece here, as did I.) Most everyone who sees this recipe will make and crave it: toast bread, and while it’s hot, grate chocolate over it. Drizzle with good olive oil, sprinkle with salt; finished.
算了沒差。反正這墨魚飯實在太棒了，就算真的要多費點功夫，至少可以靠簡單的冷湯，以及更簡單到不可思議的甜點補些秒數回來。我倆幫忙做了這個「巧克力麵包」甜點(這是 Adria 小時候常吃的點心，他開心地吃掉一整片，我也是)。我保証任何人只要看過食譜都做得出來，而且會愛吃的要命:將麵包烤成金黃色，趁還熱的時候磨點巧克力在上頭，淋一些上好的橄欖油，一撮海鹽，搞定。
While the cooking was going on, everyone else in the kitchen was absorbed in his or her task for the restaurant. But at 6:15, the atmosphere changed. Most people started cleaning up their stations, but a small group began setting up chairs at every horizontal surface, all over the kitchen. Last-minute prep began on the staff meal. At 6:30, a buffet line formed, and everyone — including Adrià (and, on this day, me) — ate, together. It was quick but relaxed, and everyone seemed to appreciate the food. (For everyday food, you want to eat this rather than “real” El Bulli food, anyway.) By 6:45, it was over. There was a group cleanup, and it was back to work.
當兩位二廚準備著員工餐時，廚房其他工作人員則專注於自己的工作上。到了6:15，氣氛開始改變。大多數人開始清理自己的檯面，有一組人開始在廚房裡的每一個平面旁擺上椅子，員工餐登場到數計時。六點半，大夥開始排隊取餐，然後每一個人，包括 Adria 以及今天的特別來賓在下，坐下來一起享用。一切顯得迅速卻又輕鬆，每個人看來都很喜歡這樣的食物(畢竟天天吃的話，你一定會選這個，而不是「正宗」的 El Bulli 料理)。6:45，用餐時間結束，有一組人負責收拾，其他人回到工作崗位上。
The cooking was more intimate the next day when Adrià and I made the staff meal for two in the main kitchen area while the big work went on elsewhere. This was sheer fun, a moment I’d been waiting for, with dishes familiar to me — that is, I’ve made things like them — and a situation in which I was comfortable.
I’ve already been teased about my limited skills by a number of the world’s best chefs, though Adrià — perhaps because the language barrier limits all but a kind of intuitive, physical familiarity (we like each other, but we can’t really talk to each other, at least not well) — was in fact more respectful than most. We started by slicing potatoes, onions and tomatoes and chopping garlic; there was certainly nothing whiz-bang about this. We were cooking dinner.
我那高明有限的廚藝曾被不少世界頂尖名廚取笑過，不過或許是因為語言隔閡導致 Adria 與我之間只剩下最直觀、本能的熟稔(我們欣賞彼此，但無法流利地溝通)，他反倒顯得份外尊重我。我們先將馬菱薯、洋蔥以及蕃茄切薄片，緊接著剁碎蒜頭，不是什麼神乎奇技的玩意兒，做頓晚飯罷了。
The recipes that evening (two of them are here, as is the recipe for chocolate bread; the third is online) were wonderful: a really lovely mussel dish with an elegant twist involving a simple, quickly made sauce of garlic, paprika, parsley and flour, in which the mussels cook and give up their juices; whole fish baked on top of the tomatoes, onions and potatoes, with not much else. Dessert was a superrich custard of sugar syrup, egg yolks, cream and rum.
Not surprisingly, Adrià can cook. (What’s surprising is the increasing number of chefs who can’t.) And — this is perhaps what turned him from a dishwasher to the most celebrated chef of his generation — he’s in love with the transformations you can force on ingredients to make them change shape and form. Whether cuisine simple or traditionnelle, these dishes aren’t haute, but he still hovered, admiring the coloring of the garlic, the softening of the onions, the constantly changing texture of the fish, the aroma of the mussels.
毫無意外地，Adria真的能煮。(真正該令人意外的是為數漸多的不能煮的「主廚」才是吧)，而我想真正讓他從洗碗工變成世界最知名大廚的地方在這裡:他實在深熱愛著那個食材經由親手烹煮而改變形態與質地的過程。無論所謂的「簡易料理」還是「傳統料理」，都一點也不高蹈，但 Adria 依舊興致勃勃地欣賞著他們，讚嘆著逐漸變成金黃色的大蒜，軟化出汁的洋蔥，隨溫度變化著質地的魚肉，以及淡菜散發的芬芳。
We ate this meal with the staff on El Bulli’s breathtakingly beautiful terrace overlooking the area’s rocky, piney coast. (It was impossible not to think that because the restaurant is closing, this would be the last time I’d eat out there.) We enjoyed it, but in the fashion of the chefs who really care, Adrià was solicitous: “Do you like the mussels? Their juices — with the garlic and parsley, pas mal, non?”
我們和員工們在El Bulli那令人屏息的美麗露台享用這一餐，俯看一旁嶙峋徒峭的岩岸(因為餐廳就快關了，我很難不想到這恐怕是我在此的最後一餐)。我們享受， 並且透過一個真正在乎一切的主廚的眼光体悟這一切。Adria 熱切的問我:「你喜歡那個淡菜嗎?怎麼樣，那個湯汁，配上大蒜還有巴西里的味道，不壞吧，嗯?」
Nothing could have been more different from a meal at El Bulli, and I’m not going to try to make some clever comparison about how all food is the same — it isn’t. These staff meals are good, straightforward cooking; El Bulli food is over-the-top, insane, once-in-a-lifetime stuff. The first is eternal; the second, well, we’ll see. Adrià, ever the optimist, said to me as I was leaving, “Hope is life’s driving force, and today, I have the hope of a child.”
世上沒什麼能比 El Bulli 的一餐更特別了，我不打算自作聰明地拿他和這些員工餐作比較，來「証明」食物都是一樣的---壓根就不是。這些員工餐很棒，不囉嗩; El Bulli(餐廳)的菜則超凡絕俗、神而明之，是一生只能有一次的体驗。在這裡的第一次將令你永生難忘，第二次呢，嗯，我們再走著瞧吧。Adria，這個我所認識最樂觀的傢伙，在我告別時對我說:「"希望"是驅動人生的動力，而今天，我就像孩子一般期待著。」