This is the second of two pieces on inconsistency in food. Doug McMaster looked at why the industrial food system chased a uniformity nature never promised. Here, Chris Locke picks up where that leaves off, with what it looks like inside a kitchen that has stopped fighting that inconsistency and started working with it. 

Where can we possibly find consistency in this world?
Things that appear consistent at a macro level are constantly in flux. Our perception of things being standardised is warped by an inability to process so much change. A regular morning commute could feel the same, yet everything has changed: from the air temperature to the amount of tread left on your car tyres.

So with so much constant change, why is the pinnacle of dining focused on consistency and
exact replication?

Our food systems have arrived at a point where quality is dictated by extracting the same product from a complex natural system. And while it can be argued that most of our food comes from industrial agricultural systems, which are far from nature, all food on earth originates from the soil or water systems. Whether it is a head of lettuce grown in a vast monoculture or the berries that sustain birds through winter, all of our food relies on natural systems.

Nature shows us time and again that it is not remotely interested in uniformity. The less human intervention in a natural habitat, the greater organic diversity will be present. The exception to this would be regenerative ecology projects, but those are designed using nature as the blueprint. So then why are we expected to exert some sense of human arrogance over a system that is inherently inconsistent?

Last November at Baldio, our little zero-waste restaurant in Mexico City, we hosted a visit from the team of leaders at the Roux Institute. Some of the most talented and decorated chefs in the UK took time to explore the Chinampas (the ancestral farming systems where a great deal of Baldio’s ingredients come from) as well as our production space and ending with a dining experience in the restaurant. During the visit to the production kitchen, which includes our food lab and fermentation space, we constructed a visual and sensory web of ingredients, processes and by-products that are used throughout the menu. While explaining this internal ecosystem of our menu design, we were asked:

“How do you keep things consistent when there are so many variables?”

I think in that moment I paused before answering. In reality, I feel like that pause still occupies a space in my mind, as I believe the question is hugely important to challenge conventional food systems, cooking and a restaurant mindset. The eventual response sounded something a little like this: “How can we be concerned with consistency when we rely on a system that is inherently diverse and inconsistent?”

The system I was referring to is nature. The complex interconnectedness of living organisms, non-living molecules and chemical elements caught in a perpetual dance of chaos and balance. How, from this system, is it either just or logical to force notions of consistency upon it? Uniformity is fetishised as both the highest and lowest spectrums of what fast food chains aspire to replicate their offering millions of times per year, while in fine dining restaurants, the experience for 20 guests per night should be an exact replication of one another.

The philosophy at Baldio strays from the conventional. Our system of closed-loop cooking requires a different way of thinking. Where we are concerned with consistency is in a broader outlook. We strive for consistency in the quality of our food, the experiences of our guests and the balance of our beverages. Slight changes on a regular basis. We realise and embrace the fact that we are reacting to a system that will continue to change, evolve and throw us curveballs until the end of time. Our role in that as chefs, bartenders and servers is to be in control of the narrative. If tomatoes arrive to us with a little less sweetness, they will affect the profile of a lacto-fermented tomato juice, as the reduction in sugars will change the resulting concentration of lactic acid. Instead of refusing the tomatoes for being less sweet than usual and demanding consistency, the resulting juice can be doctored with vinegar, blended with previous batches to balance the acid, or the final cocktail or sauce can be adjusted to balance the acidity and sweetness. To a guest, this might result in a slightly different drink than was served yesterday, but the consistency lies in the deliciousness and experience.

For further explanation, we can look to Chaos Theory for help. Chaos theory tells us that within the apparent randomness of chaotic complex systems, there are underlying patterns, interconnection, constant feedback loops, repetition, self-similarity, fractals and self-organisation. In the chaos of the systems inherent in nature, we can determine routines that aid us in our interactions with it. For example, knowing the month in which tomatoes will likely fruit is useful for a number of reasons. Farmers have and continue to track these patterns, yet there is underlying intricacy to the process. But the fact that no two tomatoes are identical should tell us more about the complexity of natural systems than anything else.

If we push for uniformity in our food, we push out complexity. Complexity builds resilience. And resilience builds a future where we can continue to nourish ourselves with food which is abundant, nutrient-dense, and flavourful.

The question we ask at Baldio is: wouldn’t our energy be better spent embracing the bounties of nature rather than trying to control them? When you let go, let nature take the wheel and feel presence in the ride; the journey becomes a lot more enjoyable.

Chris Locke is a culinary innovator, fermentation specialist, and circular systems practitioner operating at the intersection of gastronomy, science, and sustainability. Currently based in Mexico City, he heads the fermentation and R&D department at Baldio restaurant.