Three Ingredients

Ruffled feathers at the first James Beard Awards

How to shock a badass woman chef In our fourth episode, Nancy talks about winning the James Beard Award for Best Pastry Chef in 1991, and how aghast the presenter, French chef and cookbook author Madeleine Kamman, was that an upstart from California had beat out two famous men with French and Swiss training. The predicted winner was the legendary Albert Kumin, the original pastry chef of The Four Seasons who went on to work in Jimmy Carter’s White House kitchen and founded the now-closed International Pastry Arts Center in in Elmsford, N.Y. “He is one of the only people I know who can labor relentlessly in the kitchen, covering the work of three, while remaining totally calm, good-humored and friendly,” Jacques Pépin once told Nation’s Restaurant News about Kumin, who died in 2016 at the age of 94. Happily the other nominee is still with us. At the time, Jacques Torres was working at Le Cirque where he was famous for, among other things, his miniature edible stove. The youngest person to ever become a Meilleur Ouvrier de France, Torres was Dean of Pastry at The Culinary Institute for 30 years. Today he runs his own chocolate empire. As for Madeleine Kamman … she was a complete badass. She was an outspoken chef, a champion of women and a legendary teacher. Paul Bocuse once called her restaurants “the best in America,” and she was the author of many books, the most notable being “When French Women Cook.” Laurie keeps a copy of “The New Making of a Cook,” the 1997 revision of Kamman’s first cookbook, on her shelf of encyclopedic cookbooks between Shirley Corriher’s “CookWise” and Marion Cunningham’s “The Fannie Farmer Cookbook,” with Julia Child’s “The Way to Cook” a respectful few books away since it’s likely neither of them would have liked to be beside each other. Kamman had a famous rivalry with Julia Child. She pointed out that Julia was neither French nor a chef, but simply an American cooking teacher. Madeleine, on the other hand, was a trained chef with a successful restaurant who also wrote cookbooks and had a television show. “I am not for comparing people, any more than you can compare Picasso to anyone,” she opined with typical modestly. A few years ago Mayukh Sen wrote this article about her in the New Yorker. What we like best about Madeleine? In 1990, she told the L.A. Times writer Rose Dosti that the next generation of great chefs would be American rather than French, and would consist of a 50-50 ratio of women and men. The 50-50 ratio hasn’t quite worked out yet, but Nancy’s win the following year at the James Beard Awards showed that the change Madeleine predicted was already underway. That 1991 ceremony, by the way, was the first time the James Beard Awards as we know them were presented. Nancy had to remind Ruth that she had written about the ceremony — and about Kamman’s reaction to Nancy’s win — in the L.A. Times, not to mention at least one chef’s complaint about a young Wolfgang Puck winning Outstanding Chef of the Year. Here’s an excerpt: “Like every awards ceremony, this one had its moments of controversy. Madeleine Kamman, who was sitting in the front row, shuddered visibly when Nancy Silverton was awarded the prize for best pastry chef over Albert Kumin, the dean of American pastry. ‘Albert Kumin changed pastry in this country,’ Larry Forgione of New York’s An American Place, said later. ‘His achievement should have been recognized. And if Chef of the Year was for career achievement,’ he went on, ‘why wasn’t Andre Soltner (the legendary chef/owner of Lutece) nominated?’ The answer seems to be that … the Beard Awards are centered on the food revolution that has swept America. … So it should come as no surprise that Chef of the Year went to America’s highest-profile young chef, Wolfgang Puck.” It was actually a call Ruth received from New York Times reporter Julia Moskin that got our conversation started about the James Beard Awards. She asked if Ruth would comment on the organization after chef Timothy Hontzas of Johnny’s Restaurant in Homewood, Alabama, was disqualified as a best chef in the South nominee following an allegation that he habitually yelled at his staff and customers. (Hontzas told The Times that the incidents “were not as severe as the accusers described.” He also said that none of the incidents rose to the level of an ethics violation.) The disqualification, an action taken without consulting all of the restaurant awards committee members — who oversee the annual nominee selections on a volunteer basis — led one committee member and a separate judge to resign in protest. Ruth declined the request for comment by Moskin, who teamed with Brett Anderson for an extensive story on the messy process of trying to make the James Beard Awards more equitable and diverse. The article opened with the organization’s investigation into an anonymous complaint about Kentucky-raised chef Sam Fore, whose TukTuk pop-up draws on her Sri Lankan family roots. Fore, who was surprised to discover that her social media posts advocating for victims of domestic violence were the subject of the investigation, said the process was “an interrogation.” Ultimately, she was able to remain a nominee in the Best Chef: Southeast category, although the award went to Terry Koval of The Deer and the Dove in Decatur, Georgia. It’s not the first time the organization has come under scrutiny. In 2005, the president of the James Beard Foundation, Leonard F. Pickell was convicted of stealing more than fifty thousand dollars from the foundation. He was sentenced to one to three years and served about 9 months. He passed away two years later. At this year’s awards ceremony in June, the restaurant awards committee chair Tanya Holland — who is also an acclaimed cookbook author and chef of the late great Brown Sugar Kitchen in Oakland (fantastic cornmeal waffles) — said from the podium that New Orleans legend Leah Chase once gave her some advice that seemed to apply to the stresses the organization is undergoing as it tries to find the best way to ensure the awards are fair and equitable: “‘Be prepared to get a lot of criticism in this industry, and work with it; you will make mistakes. The important thing is where your heart is and how you move on.’ The universe knows I’ve made numerous mistakes.” L.A. Times journalist Stephanie Breijo, reporting on the ceremony, wrote that Holland told the audience “she has become comfortable being uncomfortable, adding that she is motivated to make the industry better. The efforts of the foundation have made a difference in the diversity of the awards’ nominees and winners, she said, and should be commended. “We’re learning as we go,” Holland said. “It’s not always smooth, but that doesn’t mean we’re not on the right path.” Three Ingredients is a reader-supported publication. To receive posts with bonus material, including recipes, restaurant recommendations and podcast conversations that didn’t fit into the main show, consider becoming a paid subscriber. The endangered 20th-century restaurant We move from the Beard Awards and a discussion about the mental stress and physical toll restaurant work entails, to an exploration of what makes a 21st century restaurant and how in many parts of the country 20th century restaurants such as diners are closing at an alarming rate. Laurie talks about the closing in May of Los Angeles’ Nickel Diner, which wasn’t technically a 20th century restaurant (it opened in 2008) but had a 20th century soul. Laurie wrote about her last meal at the Nickel, run by Monica May and Kristen Trattner, for the L.A. Times Tasting Notes newsletter. The table was loaded with scrambles, biscuits, homemade pop tarts and of course a maple bacon doughnut, plus marmalade made from blood oranges grown by the artist Ed Ruscha. Here’s an excerpt of the story: All around us customers are giving hugs to May and Trattner as well as Nickel Diner’s servers, many of whom have worked at the Main Street spot for years and have become familiar faces. The customers also hug each other because it’s a kind of reunion for many who are part of the L.A. tribe in love with the diner and the tattooed punk-rock aesthetic that came with the place. “We’re a 20th century restaurant,” May tells us by way of explanation of why she and Trattner think it’s the right time to close. Would they have stayed open if they had gotten one of their grants renewed to feed their neighbors living in the surrounding SROs or if inflation hadn’t raised their operating costs or if the pandemic hadn’t happened? Maybe. But they also feel a change in the city. A few blocks away Suehiro Cafe, another 20th century restaurant that has been on Little Tokyo’s 1st Street for decades and may be the closest thing we have to a “Midnight Diner,” is being forced to move to a new location on Main Street, not far from the Nickel Diner. What difference will a move make? When I walked by the space Suehiro will inhabit later this summer I saw a now-hiring sign and noticed that one of the new jobs listed is “barista.” Old-school Suehiro doesn’t have a barista. Apparently, 21st century Suehiro will have barista-made drinks. If it helps the place stick around for a few more decades, I won’t mind, as long as they still serve the okonomi plate with broiled mackerel and cold tofu. Because as Zen monk and teacher Shunryu Suzuki once told writer David Chadwick after he asked the master to summarize Buddhism “in a nutshell,” the answer came down to two words: “Everything changes.” Thank you for reading Three Ingredients. This post is public so feel free to share it. Eating off the cart Finally, we talk about the safety of food carts. In 1995, when Ruth wrote an article for the New York Times about how much she loved street food, she included this interesting detail: “If the idea of eating at food carts frightens you, consider this. Fredric D. Winters, a spokesman for the New York City Health Department, said that of the 1,600 cases of food poisoning reported by doctors in the last three years, only 8 were said to be from food vendors. Only one case actually proved to be food poisoning, and even that case could not definitely be tied to a cart.” You can read the entire article here. And in our bonus “Ingredients” post for paying subscribers, we’ll share Ruth’s recipe for a homemade version of the classic New York food cart dish, curry chicken and rice. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit threeingredients.substack.com

Dec 21, 2023 · 43 min

Hawaiian punch and the violence of pesto

We’re in Hawaii this week — at least Nancy is — and we talk about everything from native fruits to Spam, one of the few foods in the world that Ruth has never eaten. Ruth talks about the Zen of pie making, Nancy gives a shout out to two of her favorite kitchen utensils and Laurie waxes poetic about why Jonathan Gold fell in love with the island. Leaving Hawaii we discuss why failure in the kitchen is a good thing. Then it’s on to the politics of pesto — along with a handy little trick to make it better — even if you’re not doing it by hand. Three Ingredients is a reader-supported publication. To receive posts with bonus material, including recipes, restaurant recommendations and podcast conversations that didn’t fit into the main show, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Our favorite mortar and pestle Nancy has shown up at the cooking class she’s conducting in Hawaii with just two treasured pieces of equipment. First and foremost is her beloved mortar and pestle, which is so heavy she’s asked her assistant Juliet to pack it in her suitcase. It’s one originally made for pharmacists and Nancy is so fond of hers that she sometimes buys extras to give to her friends. In fact, she gave one to Ruth years ago and Laurie has had one for decades too. What makes it so special that all three of us have it in our kitchens? Nancy says that while a rougher molcajete is right for guacamole, she loves the smooth surface of her unglazed ceramic mortar and pestle for making mayonnaise, aioli and especially pesto, which she never makes in a food processor. Laurie found this description on the British Museum website that describes why the original Wedgwood & Bentley mortars were considered superior to marble “for the purpose of chemical experiments, the uses of apothecaries, and the kitchen”: “These mortars resist the action of fire and the strongest acids. ... They receive no injury from friction. They do not imbibe oil or any other moisture. They are of a flint-like hardness, and strike fire with steel.” Nancy also loves her trusty Microplane. But then, who doesn’t? It pretty much changed life in the kitchen, as John T. Edge explained in this 2011 story for the New York Times. Note that in our bonus post for Episode 3, available to paying subscribers later this week, we share the recipe for Nancy’s caprese salad, which is on the cover of “The Mozza Cookbook,” plus a pie recipe from Nancy’s new baking book “The Cookie That Changed My Life” and a mini podcast all about salt. Thank you for reading Three Ingredients. This post is public so feel free to share it. A proper luau Nearly every year Nancy participates in the Hawaii Food & Wine Festival, founded by chefs Roy Yamaguchi and Alan Wong. It’s an event that grew out of Cuisines of the Sun, which Associated Press writer Barbara Albright once described as “the ultimate food camp.” Nancy happened to be cooking at Cuisines of the Sun the year that Laurie took Jonathan to Hawaii for the first time. Until that trip in the late 1990s, Laurie had only experienced the food of tourist Hawaii and thought that the island destination would be a place where Jonathan could take a vacation from thinking about food in a serious way. Boy was she wrong. When they arrived on the Big Island they were invited to a luau that was unlike any Laurie had ever experienced. Held at Hirabara Farms run by Kurt and Pam Hirabara, who were pioneers in the Hawaii regional cuisine movement, the music, dancing and especially the food — all rooted in Hawaiian culture — were enchanting. There wasn’t a grass skirt in sight. After that trip, Jonathan was smitten. Here’s an excerpt from a story he wrote for Ruth at Gourmet in 2000 describing that party: There may be a prettier acre than Kurt and Pam Hirabara’s up-country farm on the island of Hawaii, where the damp, mounded earth and skeins of perfect lettuces glow like backlighted jade on a wet afternoon. But when the sun comes out and the mist melts away, and through a break in the clouds suddenly looms the enormous, brooding mass of Mauna Kea, the loftiest volcano in the world, it’s hard to imagine where that prettier acre might be. Three hours before chef Alan Wong’s luau at Hirabara Farms, a party celebrating the relationship between the chef and the army of Big Island growers who supply the Honolulu restaurant that has been called the best in Hawaii, the tin roof of the Hirabaras’ long packing shed thrums with rain, and the thin, sweet voice of the late singer Israel Kamakawiwo’ole slices through the moist mountain air. Wong’s kitchen manager, Jeff Nakasone, trims purply ropes of venison into medallions for the barbecue, and pastry chef Mark Okumura slaps frosting on a stack of coconut cakes as high as a small man. Lance Kosaka, who is the leader at Wong’s Honolulu kitchen, arranges marinated raw crabs in a big carved wooden bowl. Mel Arellano, one of Wong’s colleagues from culinary school and something of a luau specialist, reaches into a crate and fishes out a small, lemon-yellow guava. “I’ve got to eat me one of them suckas,” he says, and he pops the fruit into a pants pocket. I nibble on opihi, pricey marinated limpets harvested in Maui, and try to gather in the scene. Two of Wong’s younger sisters stir a big pot of the gingery cellophane-noodle dish called chicken long rice; Buzzy Histo, a local kumu hula—hula teacher—crops orchids, exotic lilies, and birds-of--paradise brought over from the farmers market in Hilo. A cheerful neighbor, Donna Higuchi, squeezes poi from plastic bags into a huge bowl, kneading water into the purple goo with vigorous, squishing strokes until the mass becomes fluid enough to spoon into little paper cups. She giggles as she works. “Some people like poi sour,” she says. “I like it frrrr-rresh. Although most people would say I’m not really a poi eater. I like it best with milk and sugar—it’s really good that way.” Her friend stops measuring water into the poi and wrinkles her nose. “Don’t listen to Donna,” she says. “You try your poi with lomilomi salmon.” If you’re hungry for more, here’s an article Jonathan wrote for Food and Wine Magazine, when he visited the islands with Roy Choi. And here’s the L.A. Times story about poi that Laurie talks about in this episode. Poi is a food that most visitors to Hawaii rarely experience in the way it was intended to be eaten. “The mush you might have been served at a hotel luau,” she wrote, “was almost certainly not aged, and probably served plain, which is the rough equivalent of eating potatoes mashed without butter or cream.” Or, as Victor Bergeron, aka Trader Vic, once wrote, “Americans do not appreciate food which is too far out.” Devil in a white can Ruth, Nancy and Laurie all remember Underwood Deviled Ham with great fondness from their childhoods. Surprisingly, this is the entire ingredient list: Ham (Cured With Water, Salt, Brown Sugar, Sodium Nitrite) and Seasoning (Mustard Flour, Spices, Turmeric). It turns out that it’s a very old product. The William Underwood Company began making it in 1868 (soldiers ate a lot of deviled ham during the Civil War), and the company’s logo was trademarked two years later making it the oldest extant American food trademark. And what about that other ham in a can, Spam? As described on the Hormel website, it’s made from six ingredients: “pork with ham meat added (that counts as one), salt, water, potato starch, sugar, and sodium nitrite.” We talk about Spam musubi (Spam and sushi rice wrapped with nori), which has been popular in Hawaii for decades — Jonathan called it “the real soul food of Hawaii” in this review of the now-closed Monterey Park restaurant Shakas. Ruth may not be a Spam fan, but our musubi talk prompted her to bring up one of her favorite nori seaweed-wrapped snacks, onigiri. We thought you might like to make your own onigiri. Here’s a recipe from Serious Eats. For more recipes, including one prompted by Ruth talking about the zen of pie making — spending time with her rolling pin makes her very happy in the kitchen — check back later this week for this episode’s bonus post for paying subscribers with a new mini podcast. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit threeingredients.substack.com

Dec 13, 2023 · 27 min

Three Ingredients

Episodes20

Live with Three Ingredients at the Ojai Food & Wine Festival 2026

Three Ingredients on restaurant critic anonymity and the Thomas Keller incident

Three Ingredients Talk About Charlie Trotter

Three Ingredients, Unedited

Three Ingredients Raw: Live and Unedited

Hospital Food: Why is it so Bad?

Episode 10 Bonus

Sriracha: Has it become an old lady condiment?

Would you eat an armadillo?

Is This the World's Strangest Breakfast?

How To Feed a Newborn

Did Nancy Silverton just revolutionize carrot cake?

The right way and the wrong way to cook in someone else's kitchen

Episode 5: How Nancy cornered the celery heart market. Thoughts on great dinner parties.

Bonus 'Ingredients': A health inspector story plus Ruth's food cart chicken recipe

Ruffled feathers at the first James Beard Awards

A salty conversation: The mini episode on salt

Hawaiian punch and the violence of pesto

Episode 2: Critic bait, vanity cooking and the queen of pistachios

Episode One