At the Pass with Tommy Banks
For Tommy Banks, being well-read is just as important as being well-travelled, and the journey of the dish will always be more interesting than the journey of the chef behind it
words by Tommy BANKS
I’ve heard it said that the dishes we create at Roots and Black Swan represent a sort of ‘Modern British’ cuisine. I think that’s a lovely compliment. I’ve always been a huge advocate of mastering the local. But when you think about what actually goes into British cuisine, you’ll find there’s a myriad of elements, influences and inflections from all over the globe. It’s a well-travelled cuisine, brought together over time by a legion of equally well-travelled chefs.
Oftentimes, however, being well-travelled isn’t necessarily about jet-setting about in search of ever more exotic flavours and spice. Sometimes, it’s as simple as having your nose in a good book. The right book, well-chosen and thoroughly-read, is a kind of journey in and of itself. It can be more valuable than a plane ticket.
Christian Puglisi’s Relae: A Book of Ideas comes to mind as a good example of this. It’s not a cookbook per se, but a series of essays that paint a vivid picture of Nordic cuisine and culture. What struck me the most about Puglisi’s writing was the practical and philosophical overlap that seems to exist between the Danes and the Japanese in terms of their cooking. Both nations have a very intellectual approach to the culinary arts, and both place a high value on craftsmanship and preparation. The intersection between craft and preparation, in a culinary sense at least, lies in fermentation.
I predict a fair few eye-rolls at that last sentiment, as fermentation programs are all the rage nowadays. But trends are a funny thing. Sure, they come and go, but the strongest elements of those trends tend to remain and find themselves reworked, enriched and reintegrated into menus somehow. I can’t get enough of kimchi for that very reason. Yes, it’s on trend, but it’s also healthy and delicious: It’s good for the gut and, by implication, the mind. Not to mention the fact that it fires up the endorphins with its umami-balancing qualities. Bao buns are another good example. Not quite as healthy (let’s be honest) but they are damn tasty (even if some guests do still struggle with the pronunciation).
When we developed the Roots menu, we wanted to include a couple of items that were outwardly and obviously delicious, but they didn’t necessarily fit with Roots – the bao bun was one of those items. To make them fit the Roots style we used lamb fat instead of the usual powdered milk, and further elevated the British element of the dish with lovage and mint. We then fermented turnip (as an alternative to kimchi) to cut through the fatty lamb inside it – and there it is, your umami.
This isn’t a product of me travelling directly to Japan to come back with a few new tricks up my sleeve. This is a result of research, planning and a desire to implement something I’ve learned in a way that complements what we already have. In short, it’s about the journey of the food itself, not the chef.
I’m not all that fussed about how many countries a chef might have visited, but I’m fascinated by the way in which flavours move about, and how they seem to do so under the same general guiding philosophy of balance. Think of the chutney that mellows your curry, the tartar sauce that adds an edge to your fish and chips, or the mint sauce that sets off your lamb. The foundations of food are the same. After that, you’re simply painting the same picture, but with new and exciting paints.
Even our local delicacies operate under the same guiding philosophy. Here, we fill our Yorkshire puddings with meat and veg and lather them with Yorkshire salad (a sour mix of chopped cucumber, onion, mint and vinegar). Sound familiar? It ought to, it has that said same umami charm as the bao bun and kimchi combo, or dare I say it, the same sense of balance offered by the finest of British delicacies: the kebab. If that doesn’t speak volumes about the rich journey of food, then I don’t know what does. TB
