The Three T's
If you’ve heard Seattle’s culinary giant Tom Douglas speak, chances are you’ve heard him mention the Three T’s. Not three Toms, but a set of perspectives he trains all his chefs to cultivate: taste, texture, and temperature. The three bases that, when hit, can turn a plain dish into a home run. Or next time you’re eating a disappointing meal, reviewing them will probably tell you exactly why.
To illustrate, say you’re making lamb stew. The recipe says to brown some stew meat, add chicken stock, some carrots, onions, potatoes, slow cook, and serve. Bo-o-o-ring. You’re a foodie. You want more. So let’s fix it using the Three T’s:
Taste
A fantastic dish has depth and fullness of flavor. Before you say, “Duh,” what exactly does this mean?
The idea is to have a flavor concept for a dish, and then build layers of that flavor, and its complements, to reinforce and broaden the experience of that flavor. This means your dish needs a focus. It means bringing out the central ingredient and its highlighting seasoning (herb and/or spice).
Rather than plunking a couple cubes of “chicken bouillon” into warm water, start with chicken stock you previously made. Instead of pre-cubed stew meat, you bought a half leg, bone in (or boneless leg, because you have lamb bones from a previous dinner). After dicing the meat, brown the trimmings and the bones in fat you just rendered, and simmer them in chicken stock to enrich the braising liquid with roasted lamb flavor. Then in more lamb fat, brown, really dark brown, the lamb cubes to bring out a caramelized depth of lamb flavor. And save the last of the lamb fat for browning the vegetables. Wait a minute, what about those carrots, onions, and potatoes?
To answer that, first think about seasoning. Going on a wild riff with oregano, chiles, bacon, sea beans, gruyere, and orange zest may make you feel like Jackson Pollock, but even if the flavors were compatible, there’d be way too much going on in the dish. Breadth without depth. Like blending a cheeseburger and sipping it through a straw, it’s confusing. Instead, you pick fennel as the main flavor, and add some fennel bulb to the braising liquid. Now decide on those other vegetables. Does a carrot go with fennel? Not sure? Nibble a piece of one, then the other. Now both together. Like it? Does the carrot interfere with the fennel or enhance it? Think about why the recipe called for carrot. Earthiness and sweet. Do you want that? Does fennel do that job by itself? What are you missing if you skip the carrots? Do the same with the other recipe ingredients. Keep them if they’re helping.
When the braising is done, instead of floating the lamb in thin braising liquid, strain out the vegetables (they’ve given all they can) and reduce the liquid down to a concentrated, rich sauce that will stick to the lamb, instead of pooling on the plate. Now let’s build up that fennel flavor. Maybe grill some sliced fennel bulb for a side vegetable. Perhaps top the sauced lamb with chopped fennel fronds or a sprinkle of fennel pollen. Or both. Now you’ve got layers of lamb and layers of fennel. Adjust the salt, and your dish will go to eleven.
Texture
Where taste is about layering flavor complements, texture is all about contrasts. Something creamy versus something that snaps. Soft versus shatters on your teeth. Nuts on ice cream. Pickles on a ham sandwich. Chips ‘n dip. That textural contrast is central. It packs comfort with a satisfying crunch.
Our lamb recipe started with everything slowly cooked with moist heat. A.k.a. mush. That’s why it’s hard to get excited about stew. It’s a slog. But already we’re on the right track. Those grilled fennel wedges should have some good body if not overcooked. That’s good, but cooked vegetables lose crispness the moment they get near heat. So you could swap that for a simple salad of shaved fresh fennel bulb, tossed with a little olive oil, lemon, and salt. Try moving the fennel pollen finish or chopped fronds here to dress it up a bit.
And you don’t have to go light with fresh vegetables. Try something baked or fried. Cracklings, crumbs, toasts, or simple breadsticks. Some starches can be crunchy, such as root vegetable chips, or crisp fritters. Even faro has enough snap to add texture. Or try giving cooked meat a finishing sear to put a little crust on it.
Or perhaps the crunch of that coarse-flake finishing salt is all you need.
Temperature
As with texture, with temperature contrast is king. After texture, this one is easy. Think hot coffee with a dish of ice cream. The coffee heats up your mouth, which makes the ice cream melt so you taste it more and it fuses with the coffee flavor. After another bite of ice cream, your taste buds are getting numb, so you wake them up with more hot coffee. The play of hot against cold makes the experience fresh with each bite. And the contrast intensifies your experience of the flavors.
Of course, temperature isn’t always about oven heat. There’s spicy heat. And so many dishes succeed by contrasting with it. Jalapeños and sour cream or guacamole. Spicy lamb with cool yogurt. Cool Vietnamese lettuce wraps and spicy dipping sauces. Even Buffalo-style chicken wings and blue cheese dressing.
So for our hot lamb dish, try serving it with something cold. Like what? Something that reinforces taste and texture, if you can. For our lamb stew, that fennel salad now does triple duty by adding coolness as well as building flavor and adding crunch. But it doesn’t need to hit the other T’s, or even be on the same plate. Maybe veer toward rustic with chewy artisan bread and cold cultured butter.
Use your experience and imagination, think about the Three T’s, and you won’t go wrong. And be sure to let us know what you think!