Old School Cooking

Since I was young, I've always been fascinated by old school styles of cooking. By that I mean open fire cooking, or wood burning stoves, you know, old school. There's something inherently attractive to me about being able to cook without modern conveniences, without a huge variety of pots and pans, handy-dandy kitchen gadgets, every ingredient known to man. There's something special in creating things from scratch, putting in the elbow grease, the brain work, and the time.

There's nothing like a loaf of fresh bread, a high quality product, made for less than the cost of a moderately priced grocery store loaf. Smear it with a bit of freshly made butter, or some fresh cheese. Toasted, it is perfection. Add a touch of homemade jam and there is little that is more satisfying to either the mouth or the soul. Knowing that it was made with love and your own hard work makes it taste that much better.

Several years ago, I lived in Tibet, the Roof of the World. Little did I realize how much living there would shape my future. I was there as a student, studying at Tibet University in Lhasa. How did that shape my future with food, you ask? Well, this was my kitchen:  

I had a single gas burner, no hot water in the kitchen except what I boiled myself, no refrigerator, no microwave and no oven. The first year I was there, we managed a full out Thanksgiving feast in the dorm thanks to a massive wok borrowed from the restaurant downstairs. Yes, I deep fried a turkey in a wok at 12,000 ft, but that's another story. My point is, I was able to create wonderful food with almost nothing to work with. There was no garlic press, no blender, no four-burner range. It was just me and my creativity. And I loved it. Food was special because it was hand made, and reminded us all of home. It was in this little kitchen that I rediscovered a love for cooking that I had pushed to the back of my mind and heart, and decided to go for a culinary degree instead of a Ph.d.