VENDLER.

Under Pressure

2024.06.12.

A friend called me today, saying he’d been thinking about what I should do to get my business up and running. How to speed things up. He shared his ideas, and I explained that I understood, but I was thinking differently... Then he said, "Balázs, I’m sure you’ll make it work this way too."

BUT!

But it’s not the same if it takes longer! ... Hm. I get it. So, it’s about time again.

This conversation reminded me of a story:

Back in the early ’90s, when I ended up in Pécs during my early university years, I somehow wound up at a Zepter presentation. I don’t remember who suggested we go, but I do remember there was food at the end. Those were lean years, and we appreciated any such opportunity.

I remember that occasion well because, at the end, I won the grand prize—a stainless steel tray. Even my friend who worked in hospitality praised how nice it was. But back to the point. At this event, they also introduced a pressure cooker. The expert presenter, to illustrate the capabilities of the device, said: "You can make pork knuckle stew in 30 minutes."

Wow.

My mom used to take a good 3 hours to make it when I was a kid. That’s impressive. But what would a stew cooked in 30 minutes taste like? It’s probably tender. But what about the flavors? Can the flavors, the elements that make it so delicious, that make you want to soak up every last drop from your plate, really develop in such a short time? The kind of stew that makes your fingers stick together like you’ve been playing with resin?

I looked it up online. The principle of a pressure cooker is that it seals the pot, increasing the internal pressure. This allows the water’s boiling point to rise above 100°C, even up to 120-130°C. This high temperature speeds up the cooking process, making the meat tender faster. And while the flavors come together quickly, the aromas don’t develop as deeply as they do during longer cooking. In contrast, when meat dishes are cooked over an open flame for a long time, the flavors of the meat and the added spices and vegetables meld together, resulting in rich, deep tastes. The meat fibers also break down beautifully, giving the dish a special, tender texture.

So, should we get a pressure cooker because the food will be ready in 30 minutes and perhaps use less energy, making it cheaper? And the meat will be tender too. Then everything is okay. Oh, but the flavors aren’t quite like when your mom or grandma made it? Just add some flavor enhancers, a bit stronger spices. And the texture isn’t quite right either? Well, there’s a whole range of marinades and texture enhancers available now.

So, while we optimize our cooking for time, we load it with all sorts of things that don’t belong to get that feeling of "This is it!"

But it isn’t.

And while we gain 2.5 hours, we lose everything we loved about this process. Being together in the kitchen, chatting, tasting the simmering dish to see if it’s just right. The time spent cooking connected us and kept our food pure, and in turn, kept us pure too.

I wonder, how long has this time-optimized life been influencing our decisions? When did it begin to subtly weave its way into our everyday lives? When did time, and time-based efficiency, become more important than the original goal of the activity?

Can time be so crucial that as we optimize everything we do for time, the pressure we live under becomes not only completely natural but perhaps even necessary for us?

And though the increasing pressure makes us tender quickly, the result is bland and unenjoyable, and to improve it, we reach for additives—whatever works for each of us—hoping to catch a faint hint of grandma’s stew deep in our mouths.

But no, it’s not that.

Sure, you can get used to it. People adapt easily. But why should we, if we don’t have to? Because we don’t. And how liberating it is to release the steam...

And going back to the original thought: let’s see what I can cook up in 3 hours, without pressure, instead of just half an hour.

I’ll let you know.

--

The article was translated from Hungarian to English by ChatGPT. Thank you, ChatGPT, for being here.

2024. BALAZS VENDLER

All rights reserved.