To be (a chef) or not to be (a cook)

My mother always brags to her friends that I am the chef of the family. However, spending time in her kitchen not only gives me amazing cooking lessons, but makes me realize that I am not the ruler of the kitchen. That is not the first time I am called a chef, due to my exceptional cooking knowledge and abilities.I have been called "a great cooker" as well, by non-english speakers. To that statement I always responded with the most whimsical attitude, that I might be a skillful cook, but that does not make a pot! Still, there is something about the chef title I am awarded that cannot agree with me, and that is definitely not a vocabulary issue. 

It was during my search for my culinary identity when I met Costas. Him and his wife, Theodora, lived next door to my sister in a less than idylic village in Southern Crete.

Since the first day my ladles met Costas' knives, cooking has been a bewildering experience, as we shared the same passion for food and for exploring new tastes and techniques. 

In the meantime, Costas decided to pursue his passion for cooking through culinary school, while I continued to indulge into the gastronomic knowledge through books and practice. Although we were still capable of producing exquisite food, mainly for the satisfaction of Theodora and Menia, my sister, we developed a different approach to the culinary art. As I watched him measuring and weighing everything, even the amount of eggs he was using for his recipes, while I was still using ordinary cups and humble pinches, I started to realize that I was right to renounce the

title of a chef for myself. That realization brought up a question that has been tormenting me for a long time: how can a chef be different from a skilled cook? 

The answer has always been obvious to my enenlightened eyes. An elementary comparison of my culinary identity to that of a chef, proves that I am nowhere near the chef-dom.

From a linguistic standpoint, "chef" is the French word for captain, thus in the kitchen battlefield they are the leaders. As French culinary culture set the ground for the development of eclectic cuisine, it established its intrinsic vocabulary in gastronomy as well. Personally, it is not my lack of leading ingenuity that makes me a less than adequate candidate to rule the culinary kingdom, but the fact that the pressures of a professional kitchen are far from the relaxation and rejuvenation cooking is offering me.

The distinction of a chef in the wild realm of gastronomy depends not only on their leading skills, but on their creativity as well. The modernization of product transportation, as well as the advance of food preservation systems gave extensive access to uncommon alimentary commodities. That allowed chefs to give a unique flair to their dishes, allowing haûtes cuisines to be carried away from the basic cooking premise: cook with respect to your environment. Inspired by my environmental studies, I engage in choosing my cooking ingredients according to locality and seasonality. As much as I would love to respect the originality of Italian pasta, I always choose local cheeses over imported parmesan.

Photo retrieved from www.instagram.com/gastroart

Accuracy and replicability (if scientists allow us to use their jargon in such a common way), has always been a huge issue in the professional culinary world. The perfect cuts of vegetables, the right consistency of sauces and the attention to every single detail is what awards chefs stars and golden toques. Thus, the use of specialized tools is essential, in order to assure the premium result. I have to admit that when it comes to kitchen tools, I am tempted to purchase every fancy tool that I encounter at the stores. Although they make my cooking easier, there is nothing I cannot cook with only a pot, a sharp knife and a ladle, as issues like accuracy and meticulous presentation do not really matter. In the cozy environment of my kitchen, who cares if my pie today looks

the same as the one I prepared yesterday? If it tastes deliciously, the accurate slices of potatoes and the perfectly trimmed sides of the dough are not significant, as the smiles of satisfaction on the faces of your loved ones are the ultimate reward.

Furthermore, recipes for chefs are as essential as the tools they use. All their gastronomic wisdom lays hidden within their notebooks and the passing of that knowledge from the leading chefs to their younger protegés, is almost exclusive. On the other hand, home-cooks use any kind of recipe notebooks that are convenient (mine is an old daily calendar, with music lyrics on the page sides).

In addition, recipe sharing is performed in the most unique manners, usually over a relaxing glass of wine, a carefree cup of coffee or casual conversation.

Keeping all that in mind, I have decided that I will hold on to my colorful apron, instead of the monochromatic appearance of a professional cook.

I still reserve great consideration for the culinary connoisseurs and follow their wisdom respectfully. After all, as Katherine Neville explains in her novel "The Fire" cooks are blessed people, as they are the magicians of fire, responsible for feasting and sacrifices, thus the utmost respected professionals. Yet, I choose a more down-to-earth approach to my cooking and define myself as a humble cook, leaving the reins of chef-dom to Costas. 

The Greek poet Giannis Ritsos once recited in his work The Blackened Pot " ...we do not sing to distinguish ourselves from the rest of the world, my brother. We sing to bring the world together." Well my bother, allow me to rephrase the wise words of the poet and speak a great truth about humble cooks, who find joy in serving their loved ones food that stems primarily from the heart: we do not cook to distinguish ourselves from other cooks or the world, we cook to bring people together!