Rooted Beginnings

Amuse Bouche : Summer’25

A young lemon tree anchors its roots; what's unseen is the essential quiet effort that becomes the core of its resilience. 

To awaken the palate, let’s begin with an amuse bouche that sets the tone and gives you a glimpse of what is to come. It is often to highlight the seasonal ingredients with a thoughtful start that builds anticipation. 

Frame of mind:
Grounding yourself comes before growth

Tasting Note:
Sometimes, it takes longer than you think

Key Ingredient:
Patience 

"A recipe doesn't belong to anyone. Given to me, I give it back to you: only a guide, only a skeletal framework. You must fill in the flesh according to your nature and desire: your life, your love, your nature and desire. Your life and your love will bring these words into full creation. This cannot be taught. You already know. So please cook, love, feel, create." 

Excerpt from "A Season in Spain: Uncommon Encounter with Spanish Food and Wine" quoting Edward Espe Brown, The Zen Chef who created the Tassagara Bread Book."

The above quote comes from A Season in Spain, a book I've found on the shelf in our Barcelona summer home. It perfectly summarizes much of the intention behind these food-for-thought tasting menus. All of the above is truly the most relevant. The musings below is my way of putting it together into a recipe that may look very different a year from now. 

Mallorca ‘24

Last month, I was in Mallorca. It was the second time, and it felt like a retracing of steps that reinforced the idea of the roots of a young lemon tree. I used to do this quite often in New York, returning to have a meal at a restaurant that once comforted me. It was simply the kindness of the waitstaff or the sensations that came with every bite that made me focus on the moment instead of dwelling on my minds hardship. 

A year ago, I joined my cousin on a trip to Balearic Island, filled with much uncertainty. As we curved corners, driving to towns where lemon trees blossomed, I started to think more broadly about disconcerting feelings and embrace the beauty of people just living life. This is why I travel and learn languages to immerse myself in unfamiliar places, which become familiar through routines distinct to the place. Its shifts my ways and opens my eyes that my way is not the only way to do and learn.

Mallorca ‘24

My fascination with lemons simply started with my love of cooking them so much so that I'd buy them in bundles. One day, I thought to myself, wouldn't it be nice to be able to walk into the garden and pick a lemon every time I needed one? My love for lemons became a fascination with the lemon tree, which has now expanded into a dream of having a lemon orchard. It is literal as much as metaphorical. 

Lemons have healing properties. In ancient Rome and Egypt, lemon juice and oil were used to treat colds and fevers.

Lemons symbolize prosperity. In Chinese culture, Meyer lemon trees represent longevity and abundance, as they continually bear fruit, symbolizing fertility and richness.

Lemons offer protection. In Hinduism, lemons are believed to possess strong energies that help mitigate negative influences and ward off the evil eye.

Lemons bring joy. They represent the Mediterranean lifestyle, evoking images of sunny outdoor living and clear blue skies.

Lemons are vibrant. Their bright, sunny color inspires feelings of energy, light, and warmth.

That's what my philosophy of lemons is about:

They nourish and grow in places of sunshine and joy but they are also bitter, which also a part of navigating how you want to be and who and what you care about which is beauty and challenge of life.   

Unsolicited advice from a stranger I met after my first crisp swim in the Mediterranean sea: "Profite de la vie" (meaning "Enjoy life").