Hello everyone,
This week, The Tribune has given On The Table (OTT) the opportunity to bring you, their beloved readers, something a little different.
I’m Johann, and for the past three years, I’ve been developing recipes at McGill’s oldest culinary magazine, OTT. This week I’m bringing you some of my work, as part of our magazine’s new partnership with The Tribune. Just as The New Yorker has Bon Appetit Vox has Eater, now The Tribune has OTT.
Since our founding, OTT has aimed to do three things:
Distribute beautiful print magazines freely to McGillians.
Create content about, surrounding, and that is food, inspired by cooks and journalists from J. Kenji Lopez-Alt to Anthony Bourdain.
Help McGillians feed themselves better, through teaching skills, recipes, and where to eat.
Coming very soon, you’ll be able to find our past print issues digitized on The Tribune's website, as well as individual articles and recipes.
A lot of OTT’s content is niche. We nerd out on food history, chemistry, showcase unknown cuisines, and sometimes just write odd journalism which only barely excuses itself through the notion of “food content”—but I really think you’ll like our stuff!
The bulk of this piece is meant to give you a taste of the content we make at OTT. As the days are getting shorter, I’ve developed two soup recipes to keep you warm. Far from being just recipes, they also teach you some food chemistry theory and techniques.
The first recipe is a velvety lentil soup, with ridiculously good Brussels sprouts which you should make even by themselves. Here, I’m teaching you how to use alkalinity to your advantage. You’ll feel like a mad scientist as you vapourize lentils in a foaming cauldron.
The second recipe is a light and intensely savoury mushroom soup, with a crispy ginger-leek topping and infused oil. Here it’s less about technique than theory—I developed this recipe to be the most umami possible! I explain the chemistry of “umami,” and there’s a fun little exercise for you to taste the chemistry of umami as you cook.
Of course, I don’t actually expect that many of you will cook my recipes to the letter. In fact, I don’t really think you should!
To me, cooking is like jazz. It’s important to be able to play the standards, that's for sure, there’s nothing wrong with following a recipe rote—you learn what works well, and why it works. But in my recipes, what I want is to teach you techniques to improvise with. So take whatever suits you, and go make some stomachs happy!
- Johann Pacheco-Veissière, November 2024
P.S. If you wanna send OTT a recipe or article, we got a form on instagram. @onthetablemag.
In this recipe, the main lesson I aim to transmit is how to use alkalinity in cooking. The higher the pH, the faster two things happen: The breakdown of plant matter, and browning.
The first point is useful in a lot of contexts, but most of all when cooking legumes. Legumes can take hours to reach a toothsome texture, and even longer to completely fall apart. It’s common to add a touch of baking soda to cook lentils a touch faster, but to showcase the effect I developed this method. By upping the pH a lot, everything breaks down a lot faster—the pot foams up and the lentils and onions essentially dissolve. At the same time, I wanted to keep some ingredients toothsome, for which we need to back-adjust the pH (with tasty acids) before adding the rest in.
The Brussels sprouts are a perfect example of browning. By dousing them with alkaline water, the sugars and amino acids dissolve into the water, the base saturates the leaves, and the liquid softens them. As soon as the water evaporates, they caramelize deeply and quickly. You can use the same methods to caramelize onions twice as fast! I also recommend trying these sprouts on their own—just add salt and some chili flake after it’s done cooking.
All these lessons about alkalinity work in reverse when it comes to acidity. Adding acid to plant matter will make them cook slower, and acid will prevent browning. So, always add acid to legumes at the end of cooking, and if you don’t want a brown crust on something (e.g keep a cake very pale), add a touch of acid.
This recipe is less about food chemistry techniques and more so about food chemistry theory: Specifically, the theory of umami. Using chemical principles, I developed the umami-est soup possible. You can taste the chemical theory along the way. As a little bonus, I put in a new technique with the microwave oil-infusion.
“Umami” is a Japanese word which has been wholly incorporated into the English language. It’s the fifth flavour to sour, sweet, bitter, and salty—which remarkably English lacked an exact word for, although “savoury” approximates it. It’s that flavour for meaty-savoury-salivatingly-yummy which is chemically manufactured to sprinkle on Doritos. For this, we thank Kikunae Ikeda, who discovered what umami is at the molecular level.
Glutamate, discovered in dashi (in the recipe, step 2.7), is the chemical that activates the receptors in our tongue for “umami”. Glutamate is like a key to a keyhole in your tongue; when it fits in, you experience umami. Kombu, half of dashi’s major ingredients, is one of the most glutamate-rich things in nature, although many other things contain it, such as yeast extract, tomatoes, and parmesan.
Although, glutamate is not the only chemical which plays a role in tasting umami. Some things can “open up” the keyhole to make glutamate bind better, particularly inosinate and guanylate. Basically, when these chemicals combine, things taste MUCH more umami. Dashi, which has been made for much longer than the chemistry has been known, uses this synergy.
Dried fish, like katsuobushi, contains inosinate, as does most seafood, chicken, and nori. For vegetarians, all hope is not lost—guanylate, found in mushrooms, also synergizes with glutamate. Not all mushrooms have guanylate, but enoki and dried shiitakes are particularly rich in it.
I hope from my recipe you consider stocking the ingredients for dashi. A stock makes any soup vastly better, and dashi is one of the few stocks which one can make entirely from shelf-stable ingredients. It’s more neutral than you’d think—it’s essentially umami-tea. It’ll enhance the flavour of most soups.
If you want to play around with umami synergy, check out the Umami Information Centre. On www.umamiinfo.com, there’s a guide on which ingredients have what chemicals.
Also, you can do the oil infusion trick with a million different things! The classics are shallot and garlic, but I’ve also done it with capers, oregano, and scotch bonnets—all amazing additions to a bowl of ramen.
[1] As a way to see the chemistry of umami in action, reserve a little bit of the pure kombu stock.
[2] With this liquid, compare the (2.4) kombu stock (glutamate), the (2.6) kombu+mushroom stock (glutamate+guanylate), and (2.7) kombu+katsuobushi (glutamate+inosiate). Which tastes the most savoury? Rinse your mouth with water between tests. Compare to 2.8.