Last weekend I travelled out to the Music Center at Strathmore in Rockville twice, and faced a little cognitive dissonance as I was exposed to not one but two cults of personality; two different tribes with the same enthusiastic vibe centered on the object of their obsession.
On Friday, I went to see the opera “The Parable of the Sower.” I knew the book it’s based on is regarded by many in the science fiction community as visionary, one of the seminal works of Afro-Futurism. I didn’t know that there is a sizable cult of passionate devotees of Octavia Butler’s oeuvre, and it includes Bernice Johnson Reagon and Toshi Reagon.
Bernice Johnson Reagon was a founder of Sweet Honey in the Rock, an a cappella vocal ensemble which has performed traditional and original material since its founding in 1973. I figured that the combination of Butler and the Reagons meant some powerful magic was happening – and it was.
After the play ended, the audience was welcomed to stay for a conversation with Toshi Reagon and adrienne maree brown. Reagon and brown host a podcast called Octavia’s Parables, where they take deep dives into all of Butler’s works. The play has had a long history of workshops and performances (and its own website). Fans follow its progress on social media. In the minds of many, Octavia Butler is alive and well, and lives through her books. (See my review of the opera here.)
Sunday’s event couldn’t be more different, but eerily similar at the same time. Instead of a stage filled with musicians and actors, there were two chairs, one each for Chef Yotam Ottolenghi and one for Mary Beth Albright of the Washington Post, his interlocutor for the evening. The two of them engaged in conversation. Chef Yotam delivered opinions and inside stories, described his recipe testing process, and explained how he puts a cookbook together.
There was a sideshow in the lobby. This consisted of a counter where Chef Yotam’s cookbooks were sold. Long lines formed to purchase pre-signed books. Another line marked the table where audience members could fill out cards with questions for the chef. There was, alas, no actual contact with the great man for the hoi polloi, but there was definitely an air of hero worship.
His books foreground vegetables. Although not himself a vegetarian, he believes vegetables should not take a back seat to meat as the main event, but can shine on their own. When asked about his philosophy for recipe development, he described a method of layering ingredients and flavors on large platters for best visceral effect. “The team always asks, ‘Is this Ottolenghi enough?’ Each dish must be Ottolenghified” by adding a surprise of flavor or garnish.
Pressed for details of his testing process, he admitted to some unusual steps. One involves using “bad” ingredients to see how they would affect the final dish. Then there is his secret weapon: a woman named Claudine in Wales, who tests every recipe (thousands!) and submits written reports. This provides the perspective of cooking a dish in the real world.
Audience questions were addressed. What is your comfort food? Rice and lentils with fried onions. It’s known throughout the Middle East; called koshary in Egypt. Did having kids change your cooking? Yes! They’re brutally honest critics.
Asked about the process of putting a cookbook together, the chef talked enthusiastically about styling and photographing the dishes. “It comes to life when it’s photographed.” It was not a surprise to learn that his thesis topic (for a major in comparative literature) was photography as a representation of reality.
His restaurants and food shops, all in London, were of interest to the audience. He is especially well known for the brownies sold there, and here he divulged the secret of their deliciousness: chopped gianduja bars in the mix. I can’t wait to try it!
Until international travel becomes a bit easier, a visit from an internationally-known chef will have to do. I don’t have to travel for the gianduja, either. The internet is my friend.
