Peter Chang’s Culinary Diary: From Farmers’ Market to Table
A chef’s journey isn’t just about cooking—it’s about understanding ingredients, exploring flavors, and connecting with people through food. For me, cooking isn’t confined to the kitchen. It starts at the source: the farms, the markets, and the people who grow and sell the ingredients. This belief led me to an impromptu culinary adventure with my long-time friend, Lou Aronson.
Lou is Jewish, a true food lover who not only enjoys eating but also cooking. He has an adventurous palate, always eager to try new flavors, and he has a deep love for Chinese cuisine. Although we don’t share the same native language, food has always been our common ground. It transcends cultural and linguistic barriers, allowing us to share moments of joy, curiosity, and discovery.
A few days ago, I had a sudden urge to experience something different—to step out of my restaurant kitchen and cook in a home setting with a friend. I called Lou and suggested we meet at the Sunday farmers’ market, pick out fresh ingredients, and cook together at his place. He agreed without hesitation.
A Chilly Morning at the Market
That Sunday morning, the air was crisp and cold, but the farmers’ market was alive with energy. Lou arrived with a shopping list in mind and quickly picked up a loaf of sourdough bread, a wedge of Grayson cheese, some beautifully marbled dry-aged beef, and fresh organic Brussels sprouts.
When choosing cheese, he turned to me for advice. I laughed and admitted that my knowledge of cheese was as limited as my understanding of American steak preferences—something I knew but had never deeply explored. He simply smiled and said, “You’re a chef. Just go with what feels right.” I sampled three varieties and picked the one that suited my palate, and he respected my choice without question. It was a small moment, but one that reminded me how food is a deeply personal experience.
As we wandered through the market, chatting with vendors, I was surprised to meet several customers who had been to my restaurant. They excitedly recalled dishes like Peking duck, scallion pancakes, chilled tofu skin salad, Sichuan-style green beans, and my signature numbing-spicy Jianghu chicken. It was a heartwarming reminder that food creates lasting memories and connections.
Inspired by the ingredients Lou had chosen, I started visualizing a dish in my mind—stir-fried beef and green pepper toast. To complete it, I picked up dried onions and green peppers. With our shopping bags full, we headed to Lou’s home, ready to turn these fresh ingredients into a meal.
Cooking Together: A Shared Culinary Experience
As soon as we stepped into his kitchen, we got to work. Lou handled the bread, cheese, and Brussels sprouts, while I focused on slicing the beef, green peppers, and dried onions. Using his frying pan, I quickly stir-fried the beef and peppers, seasoning them simply with salt and oil.
Meanwhile, Lou preheated the oven to 400°F and heated a natural stone slab until it was scorching hot. He arranged the sourdough slices on the slab, mixed four slices of cheese into the stir-fried beef and peppers, and spread the mixture over the bread. To finish, he topped each slice with another piece of cheese before placing them in the oven to bake.
While waiting, he quickly heated a pan, tossed in the Brussels sprouts, and pan-fried them until golden. Then, he added a spoonful of Amish seafood mushroom sauce that I had brought, allowing the sauce’s rich umami flavors to seep into the tender greens. As soon as they were done, the timer for the toast went off—perfect timing.
The Moment of Truth: Savoring the Meal
Just as the cheesy beef and green pepper toast came out of the oven, Lou called me over and said, “Great food starts with its aroma.” I took a deep breath, and he was right—the fragrance of toasted bread, melted cheese, and stir-fried beef filled the kitchen, setting the stage for the meal.
Each of us plated a slice of toast and a side of pan-fried Brussels sprouts.
The first bite of toast was crispy, savory, slightly spicy, and rich with the smooth tang of cheese. The textures and flavors blended beautifully—the crunch of the sourdough, the umami of the beef, the heat of the peppers, and the creamy cheese tying it all together. Then, I tasted the Brussels sprouts—tender, slightly caramelized, and infused with the depth of the mushroom sauce.
With every bite, the layers of flavor unfolded, creating a deeply satisfying and comforting experience. It was simple yet elevated, a dish born from fresh ingredients, spontaneous creativity, and shared enthusiasm.
A Chef’s Reflection: Cooking as Cultural Exploration
As we finished our meal, I recalled something I once read in Zhuang Zhu-Yi’s The Anthropologist in the Kitchen:
“Treat kitchen work as an anthropological field study. Immerse yourself in a culture’s daily life, observe its traditions, and understand its values through food.”
At that moment, I realized that my trip to the farmers’ market and this home-cooked meal weren’t just about making good food. It was a small act of cultural exchange, an exploration of flavors and traditions beyond my own.
I may not be an anthropologist, but as a chef, I strive to make food that not only tastes good but also tells a story. If I can take this experience—this bridge between **nature and culture, home and restaurant, tradition and creativity—and infuse it into my culinary journey, then I know I’m on the right path.
This is why I continue to explore, to learn, and to bring the farm-to-table philosophy into every meal I create. And it all starts with a trip to the market and a meal shared with a friend.