Fond

Posted on fb: Monday, November 2, 2009 at 12:29am

What I done read at NGU poetry night, Oct 29, 2009

**I read this at the poetry night at North Greenville University. It was received warmly, but I didn't really get any feedback besides the "oh, you" kind of stuff. So yeah, I was curious as to what you maybe thought about it... i suppose you could call it the time-worn artist's lack of confidence**

When a chef cooks meat, only in rare and very specific circumstances does he use a non-stick pan, even though that would prevent a lot of mess and save him clean-up time. The surprising thing is, the little burned-up bits of meat that stick to the bottom of the pan during the cooking process… the stubborn, shoulder-straining, scrubber-resistant bits that a non-stick pan would prevent… they are some of the most sought-after bits in cooking. They are called the “fond.” This is the story of fond.

When raw meat is put into a hot pan, assuming you know what you’re doing, it doesn’t just burst into flames and turn into a pile of ashes. At the spot where the meat hits the heat, that place where there is the most action, the place where the mechanism of change is being transferred from a source, pieces of cooked flesh adhere to the cooking vessel and are torn away as the meat moves. Yet what takes place during this violent time in the cooking process is not burning, but a chemical process called the Maillard reaction.

Certain foods, like meat, need a good amount of heat to be rendered suitable for their intended dish. The application of said heat to these foods causes their proteins and sugars to react with one another, creating brand new and unique compounds that are responsible for a vast array of tastes and smells that wouldn’t exist otherwise. The Maillard reaction is what makes bread into toast and roasts coffee beans. Without it, foods such as caramel, maple syrup and chocolate could not exist. And it is a result of this reaction that keeps foods cooked in pans from having black layers of char on any surfaces that are come into contact with the heat source. In other words, it allows the food to bend without breaking.

When the meat has completed the cooking process and is GBD (golden brown and delicious… it’s a real term, look it up), it is removed from the heat, leaving the little casualties in the pan with the rest of what was lost during the cooking period (juices, fat, and the like). The chef does not wash the pan at this point, however. It would be a sacrilege, anathema! It is said that in France a novice chef would be mercilessly whipped with baguettes by his coworkers for wasting such a precious commodity. For the fond is used to create what is most succulent about any well-prepared dish: the sauce. The more fond, the better, as it is used to infuse the essence of the cooked ingredient into an accentual addition that transforms a one-note dish into a gourmet meal. Once the meat is done cooking, the chef removes it from the heat and places it on a covered plate to rest. Using a deglazing liquid such as water, milk, or wine, the fond is then coaxed from the bottom of the pan and becomes a flavor base on which to build the sauce.

Without the fond, a sauce would lack cohesiveness in its taste profile, keeping it from complimenting the meal. In other words, it would be a stranger, devoid of context, intruding onto the plate. The meal would be neither complete nor satisfying.

With the fond, a pan-built sauce completes a meal, unifying the disparate parts into a single work of art, worthy of high prices and snooty waiters.



Sometimes I wonder how much fond-ness I really want to bring to this party.