There is something interesting cooking in Brazil right now. Traditions are starting to change. The old guard, so keen on replicating the techniques and ingredients of Europe and, to a lesser extent, the United States, are being edged out by those more keen to produce something authentically and honestly
Alex Atala is a celebrity chef. While the label ‘celebrity chef’ more often than not brings to mind images of acerbic and ego-maniacal TV personalities, Atala seems to be a force for good. Through his restaurant
Alex Atala is a celebrity chef. While the label ‘celebrity chef’ more often than not brings to mind images of acerbic and ego-maniacal TV personalities, Atala seems to be a force for good. Through his restaurant
Atala and his restaurants champion and use only ingredients that are found within Brazil, particularly the Amazonian Basin. Within culinary terms, this is, while not being entirely unique, not the road most travelled. Atala’s approach stands in contrast to the many menus that are flecked with ingredients that have crossed at least an ocean, if not more. While it is enjoyable, if ultimately curious, to be able to experience sushi in New Mexico, quinao in Georgia, or bananas in Alaska, there is something to be said about food that has a sense of place, what the French call
Atala’s style of cooking rejects contemporary, scattered cuisine and draws from the greatest culinary tradition of all: that of the marginal. His menus are defined by regionally specific ingredients such as manioc, nameless river fish, ants, and the infinite flora of the Amazonian Basin. But more important than his ingredients are his sources. Atala and his newly formed Instituto ATÁ – an organization about humanity’s relationship to food – seek to enhance the socio-economic and cultural meaning of food by forging partnerships with Amazonian communities, assisting in the development of small-scale agro-businesses, and espousing the larder of the Amazon.
Celebrity chefs are not in short supply; however chefs who are changing the social, economic, and cultural relationships with food are. Atala represents a break from the old guard, from those who reside over an empire of restaurants and guest appearances. But perhaps what is most important to take from Atala is his self-awareness, of his consciousness of the earth that feeds him and of his fervor to pay his respects. Even more so, he seems to perceive the fragile, but essential, string that holds our entire food system together, to go outside what is wrapped in plastic, to forge bonds with people who are not wrapped in plastic, and create art and nourishment that pays tribute to both the land and the honest people who work it. While Brazil no doubt influenced him tremendously, his manifesto is not tied to any particular place, but can be applied where people can see the dirt between their toes. Maybe we should all, from time to time, look down instead of forward to find our next meal.
Here is the manifesto of Instituto ATÁ:
Atala’s style of cooking rejects contemporary, scattered cuisine and draws from the greatest culinary tradition of all: that of the marginal. His menus are defined by regionally specific ingredients such as manioc, nameless river fish, ants, and the infinite flora of the Amazonian Basin. But more important than his ingredients are his sources. Atala and his newly formed Instituto ATÁ – an organization about humanity’s relationship to food – seek to enhance the socio-economic and cultural meaning of food by forging partnerships with Amazonian communities, assisting in the development of small-scale agro-businesses, and espousing the larder of the Amazon.
Celebrity chefs are not in short supply; however chefs who are changing the social, economic, and cultural relationships with food are. Atala represents a break from the old guard, from those who reside over an empire of restaurants and guest appearances. But perhaps what is most important to take from Atala is his self-awareness, of his consciousness of the earth that feeds him and of his fervor to pay his respects. Even more so, he seems to perceive the fragile, but essential, string that holds our entire food system together, to go outside what is wrapped in plastic, to forge bonds with people who are not wrapped in plastic, and create art and nourishment that pays tribute to both the land and the honest people who work it. While Brazil no doubt influenced him tremendously, his manifesto is not tied to any particular place, but can be applied where people can see the dirt between their toes. Maybe we should all, from time to time, look down instead of forward to find our next meal.
Here is the manifesto of Instituto ATÁ: