A guest post by Mel Barrett
Mel Barrett writes a regular cookery column for the Wholesome Food Association. Mel is a former management consultant who, since leaving the corporate world, has worked with butchers, bakers and canapé-makers (and many others too!) who share her passion for food produced with integrity. She has written/co-written publications for Sustain (the alliance for better food and farming) on bread and London’s food economy, and is currently developing a new kind of cookery course. She has two young daughters. To see Mel’s growing collection of cookery columns, click here.
This is the third of a series dealing with some of the basic science and chemistry of what makes food delicious.
Fuschia Dunlop, in her highly acclaimed ‘Sichuan Cooking’, explains that, for the Chinese, the texture of food is as important as its colour and flavour. A range of words exists to convey kou gan, the feeling of food in the mouth, many of which have no English equivalent, for example, Cui, a crispness that initially ‘offers resistance to the teeth, but finally yields, cleanly, with a pleasant snappy feeling’, like raw mangetout, and Su, the ‘dry, fragile crispness of deep-fried dumplings’. Conversely, according to Dunlop, there is a ‘very limited sense of texture involved in European gastronomy’, which explains why Europeans find weird or even revolting the foods from which ‘Chinese people derive such immense pleasure’, for example chicken feet.
Unused we may be to the slimy appeal of silver ear fungus, and out of practice with the ‘rubbery bite of tripe’, but less appreciative of texture? It was certainly being taken seriously in the restaurants in which I have dined recently (Moro’s tomato soup with green figs, a deeply satisfying combination of soft fleshiness and exploding crunch, being a particular highlight). But in the home we are perhaps guilty of ignoring texture. Here’s why we shouldn’t:
- Including a range of different textures on the plate provides greater sensory stimulation: the Sunday roast is at its best when tender meat is paired with crunchy crackling and crisp, fluffy roast potatoes; there is no finer food than pizza when it comes with a chewy base, a crisp crust and soft, melting cheese.
- Contrasting textures can highlight some sensations (delicate flakes of fish seem even softer encased in crunchy batter), and limit others (oily food is less cloying when paired with a dry crust, for example, the time-honoured pairing of herring and oatmeal).
- Most importantly, not taking texture into account can spoil a meal: meat which is too dry; vegetables which are too hard; sauces which are lumpy.
Cultivating a sense of texture
To obtain pleasing textures in our food, we must first have a sense of what we are trying to achieve. Our task is made more difficult by the imprecision of our language. Tender, when applied to our meat, means firmness with no resistance; when applied to our pasta and steamed vegetables it means softness with some resistance (no self-respecting Italian would ever eat pasta in which the white core – the anima – is not still faintly discernible; over-cooked, mushy veg died out with the bell-bottom flare). Some cheeses are hard (whilst being rubbery); hard too are oatcakes (which can be easily broken between the fingers of a two year old) and boiled sweets (which cannot). There is the crumbliness of feta cheese (moist) versus the crumbliness of toasted breadcrumbs (dry); and crisp foods, which can be juicy and non-oily (an apple), light and airy (Rice Krispies) or dry and fatty (bacon rind).
More helpful perhaps is to think in terms of the way texture (the structure of solid food and the consistency of liquids) affects the mechanics of the eating experience: how much work is involved in chewing, the weight of food in the mouth and stomach, the noise it makes and whether it binds to the mouth and other foods. The following four questions may be helpful when putting together a meal:
1. Do you want the food to exercise the mouth, or slip down easily? (Chewiness)
Food that gives the jaw a bit of a work out can be very satisfying to eat. It takes a while for the brain to register that the stomach is full, so food that slips down in a jiffy can leave us wanting more. Foods which provide a good chew contain strong substances (high protein flour; meat proteins), have sturdy structures (for example, raw vegetables, tightly packed with water) and/ or a degree of elasticity, for example, halloumi cheese (and other rennet-curdled cheeses) and udon noodles (and other foods containing very well mixed or kneaded gluten).
Conversely, there are times when we want an easy eating experience, provided by food whose strong structures have been weakened by heat, sharp blades (e.g. ground meat) or the presence of fat (separating the protein in pastry and softening the tissue of the cuts of meat which it runs through); foods high in moisture (e.g. soups and vegetable purees); slimy foods (such as okra, oysters, natto and various tubers beloved of the Japanese) and foods which are liquid at mouth temperature (runny cheese, chocolate, caramel). Cravings for soft food have been linked to a need for comfort (although slimy food has unpleasant associations for many).
Food which is too hard to chew is unpleasant: meat which is too dry (allowed to reach too high an inner temperature); stewing cuts which are too tough (not cooked long enough for its connective tissue to dissolve); potatoes which are too hard (not cooked long enough for all their starch to absorb water). Equally unpleasant is food which has been heated to the point where its structure disintegrates (overcooked meat fibre becomes grainy; starch from ruptured starch granules turns potatoes ‘gluey’). Finding the balance which provides the right degree of chew is one of the most important skills for the cook to master.
2. Do you want the food to feel heavy or light? (Density)
Heavy foods – liquids thickened (with protein, starches or through evaporation) and enriched with egg yolks and fats; solids dense and laden (with fat, alcohol, ripened sugars from dried fruits) – are satisfying, and can evoke a sensuous pleasure. Food is visually plumper (dried fruits, rehydrated in rich tagines; stews wobbly with dissolved gelatine from slow-cooked cuts of meat); fat takes longer to digest, keeping us fuller for longer, and is associated with luxuriousness. Heavy food is something we seek more when the weather is cold (count how many references to ‘rib-sticking’ puddings you pick up in recipes appearing in magazines over the coming winter months).
Conversely, there are times, for example when the weather is hotter, when we seek lighter food. Food is made lighter by the presence of air and the absence of fat and water (for example, meringues, tempura batter, rice cakes) or by slicing foods extremely thinly (wafer biscuits, wafer thin ham).
3. Do you want your food to make a loud noise? (Sound)
Theories abound as to why we like noisy food: some say the vibration the skull causes is stimulating; others put cravings for crunch down to feelings of anger or anxiety, or a desire for playfulness. Food makes a sound – a crunch or a snap – when rigid structures are shattered suddenly. Sugar and salt crystals, water-packed raw vegetables and fully dehydrated foods (e.g. crisps, uncooked grains) are completely rigid; some foods are rigid at the surface only (e.g. crusty bread). If moisture is allowed to re-enter dehydrated food it becomes soggy or leathery; conversely soaking raw vegetables in iced water for up to fifteen minutes can restore lost crispness.
4. Do you want your food to coat the mouth or dissipate quickly? (Stickiness)
Food can also be differentiated by the degree to which it sticks, either to the mouth, or to other food. Many flavour molecules are fat soluble rather than water soluble; as fat has a tendency to coat the mouth, tasty and aromatic fatty foods can provide a flavour sensation which lasts long after the food has been swallowed. Conversely, watery foods dissipate quickly, and are more likely to leave a ‘clean’, neutral flavour in the mouth. Syrups make liquids and solids sticky (as does heated sugar-containing balsamic vinegar), which also helps to keep flavour in the mouth for longer.
Oil has a more pleasant feel in the mouth (‘mouthfeel’) when it is dispersed in small drops in another solution (emulsified), either naturally (as in cream, crème fraiche, butter or yoghurt), or by vigorous mixing (as in mayonnaise, dressings and when acid is added to an oily mouthful, for example, lemon with oily fish; vinegar with chips). When it separates out it has a tendency to feel ‘greasy’, which is why cream and crème fraiche are useful bases for sauces, as they are stable even when heated. Egg yolk, honey and mustard are good natural emulsifiers (i.e. they prevent oil from separating out).
Personal Preference
Although some textures may disappoint, for example, sogginess instead of crispness, there is only one real absolute: food shouldn’t be impossible to break down in the mouth. Apart from that texture is down to personal preference, and will depend on variables including your mood, the weather and the associations different textures have in your mind. Hopefully, thinking about where you want your food to lie on the four spectrums above will help compensate for the precision our language lacks, and encourage you to broaden your textural horizons.
This column content (excluding images) © Mel Barrett 2011.
All images from Flickr, used under Creative Commons Attribution License. Click image to enlarge.