Pairing cooking and jazz is not an original concept. Eleven Madison Park’s Daniel Humm credits Miles Davis as the inspiration that guided the restaurant through its revamp and subsequent evolution to 3-star Michelin status. Charlie Trotter likens himself to “the Miles Davis of cuisine” in that the legendary trumpet player claimed to have never played the same song twice and that’s how Charlie approaches food. In practical terms, musicians and cooks share similar traits: we work when others play, sleep when others work, make terrible romantic partners, live degenerate lifestyles and labor to create an experience that titillates the senses of our patrons. As I was listening to a TED talk given by Stefon Harris, noted jazz vibraphonist, several parallels between the culinary and jazz world emerged.
“Every mistake is an opportunity in jazz.”—Stefon Harris
Jazz is famous for its improvisational style. Could the same be true of cooking? Without having been there, it’s safe to say that no one set out to deliberately burn sugar to make it more delicious. Nor did I not regret forgetting to wipe my knife in between cutting limes and watermelon. But just like jazz, it’s important to know the basic notes and understand the fundamental techniques before you can mix them up to create something special.
“The only way that I would say it was a mistake is in that we didn’t react to it. It was an opportunity that was missed…The only mistake is if I’m not aware…to incorporate the idea, and if we don’t allow for creativity.”—Stefon Harris
Reacting is responding to the awareness of existence. And it need not always be positive, a lesson that I’ve learned many times over—from using too much saffron, to over-steeping lavender, and adding too much vodka to my cosmopolitan sorbet base. (Saffron intensifies, a cold infusion produces a subtly flavored extract, and alcohol lowers the freezing point.) Indeed, if we put our ego aside, we can learn more from failure than from success. I wouldn’t have thought of roasting as an ideal cooking method for a delicate fruit like strawberries until I put a pan in the oven, forget to lower the heat from 400F, and subsequently charred the beejesus out of them. If I let my ego take over, I would have dumped the pan in the garbage to avoid losing face with the chef. But the aroma was too intoxicating and I slurped a spoonful of the liquid…and have been happily charring my strawberries ever since.
“[Jazz] is a science of listening, it has far more to do with what I can perceive than what it is that I can do.”—Stefon Harris
Cooking is also about listening, listening with your senses. You can roast a peach, but should you? Taste the peach—is it sweet? Feel the peach—is the flesh firm enough to withstand cooking, or is it so ripe that the slightest tinge of heat will turn it to mush? Will roasting best accentuate the peach’s flavor, or would poaching suffice? You may want to dice the peach, but after poaching, the peach may be better left halved. How will this change your dessert—how you plate it and how the diner can eat it? This is a snippet of one of many conversations I have with my food. (So no, I’m really not just standing there whispering sweet nothings to the wall.) It’s also why I’ve shied away from over-planning my desserts. They rarely translate literally from my mind to the plate leading to frustration and missed opportunities for a new way of thinking.
“…The first step for me is to be patient, to listen to what’s going on, and pull from something that’s going on around me. When you do that, you engage and inspire the other musicians, and they give you more and gradually it builds…it’s about being here in the moment, accepting one another, and allowing creativity to flow.” –Stefon Harris
Playing in a jazz band should also inspire our work as a kitchen team. Inspired cooks are creative cooks, cooks who can adapt to the ephemeral nature of food and cooking. In strictly adhering to recipes, cooks are unable to adapt. What happens when the peaches are perfectly ripe—do you still need to use as much sugar or should the cooking time be reduced? The question seems elementary but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched cooks work on auto-pilot only to churn out a monstrously sweet and mushy cobbler or a poached pear that was so firm, you needed a steak knife to cut through it. When we allow ourselves to listen, not just to the food, but to each other, we give each other a stake in the kitchen’s success thereby engaging and ultimately inspiring each other.
Click here for a full transcript of Stefon Harris’ TED talk.
Buttery. Salted. Caramel. 
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