STEPHEN LYLE

A visit to the Culinary Institute of America at Hyde Park, New York -- the prize for being married for 25 years -- turned out a little bland. My wife and I stayed at a nearby inn, and had our anniversary dinner at The Culinary Institute of America’s Caterina di Medici restaurant, the final training ground of the best and the brightest of America’s culinary academe. The huge, cathedral ceiling’d trattoria, paid for by Colavita olive oil, is very yellow. I agree with the saying that Italians are born waiters, and our waiter was definitely not Italian. Sweating and struggling with his lack of food knowledge, at a loss to suggest a wine, and offering us dessert in the middle of our cheese course were just some of the evidence of his genetics, poor boy.  And all this at full NYC prices.

While the meal was ok overall, it was the food that really drove home how much of our culture is stored, like some kind of Federal Reserve of belief, in our institutions of higher learning.  What a deep mistrust of seasoning and self-expression still dogs American cooking! There's a lot of playing it safe. While the Caterina menu read fairly cutting edge and seductive, the technically perfect salad of artichokes and scallops lacked any hint of herb or spice. This was not an accident. Despite the explosion of flavors and spice in America, over which we chefs have presided in the last twenty years, there is still a lack of understanding as to why a person might venture out of their home to visit a restaurant. During my apprenticeship back in the 1970’s, at the height of Nouvelle Cuisine, seasoning (starting with salt and pepper) was absolutely central to the enlightenment that the new cooking represented. My chef taught me that a properly seasoned vinaigrette should make you cough. Not overcooking (or under!) was the second mantra. But having achieved these new basics, the goal was always a harmonious affinity of vivid flavors and textures, coming together to express a natural and intelligible culinary idea. One does not go to restaurants to consume perfectly cooked ingredients. We go to commune with other souls’ insight into the joys of existence. And, of course, to avoid doing the dishes. Great cooking always brings out a fresh appreciation of an ingredient, and how it works with others. Understanding how another person or culture perceives the world through their cooking is an indispensable way to heighten our awareness of how very much we bring to the table. Or how little.

On the spicy side, I can definitely recommend the inn. 

www.cia chef.edu/restaurants/caterina /

www.buttermilk falls inn .com/