"In the end, nothing goes with anything; it's your own taste that puts things together.” - Lucian Freud
That I have opinions about food will hardly surprise you. But what might surprise is how much I agree with—and fully endorse—the great painter Lucian Freud’s assertion cited above. In fact, I know of no other statement about “what goes with what” that expresses it better.
What I so like about Freud’s assertion is its combination of liberation (“Nothing goes with anything”) and subtle constraint (“It's your own taste that puts things together”).
Note that the artist did not say, “Anything goes with anything.” Quite the opposite. Freud didn’t become a great artist because he simply slapped things together and called it good. He knew how many subtle choices are made in order to arrive at anything - a painting, a plate of food, a wine pairing - that “works.”
All of which brings us to “putting things together.” Obviously, it’s the key. Since I do all the cooking chez Kramer and, as you might expect, also choose the wine to go with the meal, I spend a certain amount of time every day deciding what goes with what. It’s a highly pleasurable daily meditation.
What have I discovered from decades of this daily meditation? Probably my biggest lesson is not to choose a wine that you like, but rather, to choose what the dish likes.
Strange as it sounds, I often anthropomorphize the ingredient I’m working with or the dish I’m making. “What wine do you like?” I ask my food. I’m sure I could get locked up for admitting this, but I usually get answers.
Typically, the answer is something like, “I know you want a Pinot Noir because that’s what you always want. But I really want a Cabernet Franc. Or maybe a Lambrusco.”
Am I crazy? Probably yes. But when you cook enough - especially if you’re really into your ingredients - strange things start to happen in a kitchen. This is one of them.
To read more online, click here.