Chef Craig Miller

I began cooking at a very early age when I was given "The Encyclopedia of Creative Cooking" by Charlotte Turgeon. There I would thumb through the pages, seeking out the most difficult recipes and put on dinner parties for my sisters and their friends. In college I was given my first official restaurant job at Saddlepeak Lodge in Calabasas, CA and since then have worked in kitchens along the west coast of the United States for the last fifteen years without ever having attended a culinary school. After much trepidation I have grown increasingly comfortable with that fact and I believe that the loose structure of my culinary education has molded my style and approach to food. I'm involved in food because I, much like my mother and my grandmother, love to make others happy through nourishment. I'm involved not because I am an adrenaline junkie or because I feel the need to cleaver my way to the top of any kitchen hierarchy but because to me, although it may sound trite, food is the ultimate expression of love. It is also a dying skill as people spend less time doing it and more time watching people do it on TV. With the removal of cooking in our daily routine comes the dehumanizing of our primal core and my wish is to help preserve it by educating people about food.

The lack of a culinary education may be partly the reason that I have never chosen to work in a large hotel or corporate kitchen although it would have done my bank account some good! Instead I have focused on small-scale operations that tend to create their own families and communities and where quality of life supersedes financial gain. You see, I believe that each of us has a certain amount of energy that our bodies can expel, some of us more than others. That energy is divided among work, love and play. When work taps more than its share then family and sport suffers. When love is taking more than its fair share then work performance drops and stress from lack of a pleasurable outlet goes up. Anybody involved in a new love, fanatical about sports or trying to make partner at their law firm can attest to that.

At Rancho de Caldera I can focus on assembling ingredients, whose histories I've had a hand in, in order to build flavors into dishes that I am proud to serve. So when that green curry comes back to the kitchen untouched because it's a little too spicy, I am heartbroken knowing that our lemongrass and lime leaves were plucked in vain. The seeding, transplanting and care; watching the weather, the months of growth, the harvest, the cleaning, the chopping and blending, cooking, plating and presentation of our ingredients represent countless hours of care that cannot be translated into dollars and cents accurately. If the true price of the food set before you were actually calculated, most of us would never be able to afford it. This is why so many restaurants operate at a loss and margins are so thin. It is why the majority of others take short cuts in order to bring prices down. Integrity and profitability make irritable bedfellows and while convenience is often a welcome relief to integrity it is the later that separates the germ from the chaff.

Corporate agriculture has tried to solve the riddle of thin margins for the last fifty years and only now do we know the enormity of their miscalculation. There is always a trade-off when we push plants and animals to perform much beyond their natural range. Let me repeat that because it is so important; there is always a trade-off when we push plants and animals to be exceedingly productive. Environment, quality of life, personal health, aesthetics; one or all of these are damaged in some way, however slight, when we force unnatural amounts energy into a food system. And so I'm always looking for the maximum output with the least energy input when it comes to food. Sometimes it means finding ordinary things and making them palatable. That is why I have a curiosity for all things edible however inane. Chickweed is a weed... its in the name but clipped fresh and tossed in a salad it becomes a crisp green adding texture and volume to salads. A spring bouquet of bunched tulips is quintessential but to my eyes their petals are rigid vessels, like tortilla chips, begging to be filled with crab salad or hummus. Here in Panama the algarroba is a tree whose hard seed pods litter the ground and are left for animals, but I have discovered they can be boiled into a cloudy green tea, mixed with cardamom, cinnamon, clove, peppercorns and honey. Poured over ice and mixed with milk it resembles a spiced chai. Creative cooking indeed!