More than 3000 years ago, the pre-Incan people of Peru placed peanuts in their burial tombs to signify that ‘we are born from the land, and when we die we return to the land’. In the tomb of the great Moche warrior the Lord of Sipán, golden and silver beads in the shape of peanuts were found on a necklace (along
In times past, recipes were cherished treasures; safely guarded secrets that would define great houses and cultures. King Henry IV gave Carthusian monks the recipe for the liqueur Chartreuse because it was rumoured to be a secret elixir for long life. Ever since that occasion, only two living souls are ever in possession of the complete recipe.
In contemporary times, recipes are a dime a dozen. We’re bombarded by them on the internet, in grocery store leaflets, on the labels of products, and through the pulpy mass of television’s over-enthusiastic food celebrities. In my experience, what is often missing from the repertoire of home cooks are techniques rather than recipes – culinary processes that can be reinterpreted in boundless ways. Reading a recipe binds you to a page; learning a technique allows for a deeper understanding of recipes and frees your culinary soul to cook from your imagination.
