by Fred Moleck
Finesse
New Year’s resolutions rank up there with other quaint, though antiquated, personal reform statements.
To diet or not to die . . . to exercise more or not to exercise as much . . . to pay off the VISA card in three months . . . to stop smoking are some familiar examples.
(Surely this last one doesn’t apply to any of the readers of TableTalk. You are all enlightened and would never want to smoke anything. Extended suicide is not an option in our lives.)
All are noble efforts to “clean up our acts, straighten up, and fly right,” to use an equally quaint and antiquated phrase.
Then there are the Lenten resolutions, which limit one’s chocolate intake or eliminate the super fries attached to the MacMonsterMeal.
All of these are humanly manageable but somewhat trivial.
I would like to offer another resolution—developing finesse. Probably, finesse is not a word that you might use in daily parlance or personal meditation.
I was fascinated with the word while reading one of the Christmas books I received this year—The Elements of Cooking: Translating the Chef’s Craft for Every Kitchen by Michael Ruhlman (New York: Scribner, 2007).
It is a splendid little volume (244 pages) that defines and describes words and terms in suave literary style. Some of my life-quest questions have been answered, such as the difference between canapés and hors d’oeuvres.
(Yes, my life is sometimes focused on incredibly trivial challenges.)
For your enrichment—canapés are some type of preparation served on a bite-size piece of toast or its equivalent. Hors d’oeuvres are not individually proportioned, such as peanuts or popcorn, and are to be consumed in large amounts.
Aren’t you enriched with this newly found knowledge?
Let me share another “find” with Ruhlman’s section on finesse. He lists numerous examples of cooking finesse. Veal stock is a good example.
Preparation of veal stock is more than just accumulating the meat bones and water and herbs. It is the length of cooking time, the straining of the stock, the addition of the aromatic vegetables at the right time, plus several other considerations—a superior stock is determined by the care and attention given to its manufacture.
Let’s extend that concern for detail and timing and use of authentic elements to our music ministry.
Never let it be said that music ministers don’t prepare enough to execute the music at a liturgy. Just think back six to eight weeks ago.
Music is chosen. Rehearsal procedures are developed. Instrumentalists are hired. Worship leaflets are sketched out. You’ve been there. You are probably in the middle of planning for 2008 Lent, Triduum, and Easter.
Musicians and chefs have a great deal in common.
In chapter 8, “Finesse: The Cook’s Finest Challenge and Path to the Ultimate Rewards,” Ruhlman talks about the extra effort, the accumulated expertise of the chef, the timing of when to add whatever—all elements that congeal into a culinary masterpiece.
The masterpiece is made possible by high expertise in which finesse is necessary. He cites Kermit Lynch, the California wine merchant, wine authority, and author who quoted Lulu Peyraud, proprietress of the Provençal vineyard Domaine Tempier:
Finesse is the opposite coarseness or crudeness. It is a light touch as opposed to heavy-handedness. It is spirituality, subtlety, and intelligence, from which comes an aptitude for knowledge and understanding.
It is also a matter of sensibility, of perceptiveness combined with a great deal of delicacy in regard to emotions and feelings. (48)
Ruhlman goes on to expand her definition.
Finesse—refinement and delicacy—has an impact on those who encounter it. Finesse is an expression of excellence, and whether that finesse is in art, in craft, in business, or in medicine, its effects are parallel. . . . Finesse should not be considered a flourish, an extra final step, but rather something fundamental in our actions. (Ibid.)
Cooks and musicians nourish people. When done with finesse the nourishment passes beyond the gullet and the brain into a realm of sharing the life principle—food for the body, food for the soul. Finesse binds them both.
Bon appétit
You can reach Fred Moleck via email at fmoleck@comcast.net