Thinking About An Artisan

 

     The other night I shared a bar of Dan’s memorial chocolate with my family and some friends – the first I had eaten since the pieces distributed at the co-op memorial on July 28th. That night, he visited me in a dream. I recall clearly his face and the feeling of his arm as he placed it around my shoulders and inclined his face to my ear. He assured me and encouraged us. The sensation of this is still clear from the reverie. My cooking work is often solitary and there is a lot of time to contemplate; Dan, and his perspectives, are in my thoughts considerably these days. In particular: What is an artisan, and what makes food artisanal, and what is its value?

     First of all, I think, an artisan needs to be a professional. It is not enough for him to be just a talented amateur. His work and his livelihood must be intimately linked. The professional accepts the risk of the art; he may fail either in execution, or in business. Either way, their livelihood is at stake when they work, and that means something.

   

  Secondly, there is a prerequisite of practice and permeation. Despite being a professional the artisan practices even when not working; and, the degree to which they execute this balance (see the Razor’s Edge) will affect their style and proficiency. An example would be an artisan fishing guide who still fishes in his own time. He thinks about fish as well as fishing. He ties flies, and studies rivers in all times of day, through all times of year. His fishing is in his mind and work. His life is permeated by his work. An artisan farmer really loves good vegetables and loves to eat them. Her farm reflects her mind. Her food is both beautiful and potent. She knows that when she sits down to a meal of her hard work she feels it in her hands and back and heart, and she knows that she is privy to the delicacy of vivaciousness that few know.

     Inasmuch, a professional cook who loathes his job, and there are many, for good reasons, cannot be an artisan regardless of his talent. Can someone who doesn’t even like cucumbers grow and market them well? Well, an aficionado of pickles knows what to favor and cultivate in terms of variety, trellising, harvest maturity, and storage to ensure maximum pickling pleasure. Can we not assume that the antithesis would fare worse? And herein lies the rub: pleasure. The artisan is a professional who seeks above all to be pleased by his work.

Next Week: What makes food artisanal?