I cannot work without music. Almost any music will do; it spurs me on. The radio is on all day at the Petersham Nurseries Café, except during lunch. It can make me feel so happy – and a happy cook is a good cook. The way we enjoy consuming food, too, is akin to the way we appreciate music. Depending on our mood, we seek different flavours: sometimes we want them loud and raucous, other times quiet and delicate. In this way, the rhythm of a three-course menu can be compared to a symphony, perhaps starting soft, then crescendoing in the middle before tiptoeing out again.
When I create a dish, I treat the different levels of flavour of each ingredient like notes in a musical scale. A great meal should consist of many finely tuned flavours, tasting distinctly of each ingredient, but together creating something bigger: an orchestra’s worth of flavours. This applies to all dishes.
I always start a new dish with the ‘bass notes’ that provide a firm foundation: a bed of earthy lentils, maybe, or a pile of fluffy mash. Wintry herbs such as rosemary, sage and thyme also fall into this category; they stand up to long, slow cooking, and add body and character. Onions, shallots and garlic come at this end of the scale, too, as do the warming, deepening notes of spices such as chilli, cumin seeds or fennel.
Adding salt at this early stage is also vital: it tickles out the flavour of the bass notes. In fact, salt is the volume control of my musical creation. It should never be turned up full-blast, but set at a level where all the flavours can be ‘heard’.
The star ingredient should sit in the middle of the scale, whether it be a glistening fillet of sea bass, some slices of slow-cooked pork belly, or a pile of sweet-roasted veg. I’ll then add wine, tomatoes or stock to amplify this middle note.
Finally you need a light top note: the acidity of lemons or lime juice, or perhaps a pinch or two of finely grated citrus zest; a little glug of peppery, new-season olive oil, or the smallest drizzle of aged balsamic vinegar. These nuances add a touch of brio to the dish, a measure of sparkle. In every dish I make, I try to attain the clearest, cleanest possible flavours. To do this, I must check that I have climbed every note of the scale, from the bass to the higher register. Then I know my food will really sing.