Camille Becerra was my first chef crush. It was the early days of Instagram for me, around 2013. I downloaded the app by accident, thinking I was downloading the photo app Hypstamatic. But then, there it was, Instagram: a small window to the world that would expand everytime I pressed follow.
I remember a video on Camille Becerra’s feed, way back then, in collaboration with Estée Lauder1. Becerra stands at a counter, NYC bustling outside the window, wearing a felt hat and a blue denim apron with pink stitching. She whips gelatin, sugar and egg whites into a big cloud of white, then the camera cuts to bird's eye view and we watch as she smooths marshmallow into a pan, her nails painted big apple red.
The nails, her lipstick, the collaboration, the tone, it was all so novel at the time, and I was influenced - or better yet, inspired. I painted my nails red and remained loyal to Becerra’s Instagram feed for years. She showed us life through her artful eye: dragon bowls with pops of pink, crudités sliced in geometric shapes and served on a towering cake stand, a dress the same soft green tone as her mandolin hanging on the wall, jumpsuits before anyone else, avocado toasted loaded with herbs and paper thin radishes before anyone else, leaves of purple cabbage, white plates after a meal, morning light. Her aesthetic lit me up, and like a writing prompt, it launched me in creative directions I hadn’t been before.
This world came flooding back as I walked through the woods the other day, AirPods in, listening to Becerra on Radio Cherry Bombe. I hadn’t thought of her for a while, the way it happens when people slip from your feed. But there she was, her gentle voice sharing her story as a mother, as Top Chef alumna, as the new Chef at Ace Hotel Brooklyn. I imagined her food as I stepped over pine needs - bright and crunchy and full of flavour. She was probably wearing red lipstick, denim, mens shoes and a fedora, quietly pushing others to reimagine what it means to be a chef.
Towards the end of the interview host Kerry Diamond asks Becerra about her cookbook coming out this spring. Becerra says the book isn’t about being attached to a recipe or a cookbook, but understanding instead how to flow through the seasons with a “beautiful pantry filled with sauces and flourishes and mixes, where you can eat whatever you're craving.”
A pantry full of flourishes! It’s the flourishes that have always lit me up - colours, textures and different points of view that take me out of myself and steer me back into the kitchen.
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This week I made granola, inspired by the granola I buy at Luke’s, one of my favourite local food shops. It’s not too clumpy, which makes it easy to sprinkle over yogurt, rather than it being the main event. I was also inspired by Sarah Britton’s Banana Bread Granola from her cookbook My New Roots. In it she folds ripe bananas into the granola ingredients. Below is my version, inspired by Sarah, inspired by Luke’s, plated the way Camille might treat one of her beautiful bowls, and enjoyed thoroughly, the way I always do.
Granola
makes about 10 cups
⅓ cup coconut oil, melted
2 very ripe bananas - about ⅔ cup
½ cup maple syrup
3 cups rolled oats
1 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
1 cup flax seeds
I cup sesame seeds
½ teaspoon sea salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Other optional flourishes to stir in after baking: goji berries, chia seeds, hemp hearts
Preheat oven to 350F/ 180C
Line a cookie sheet (baking tray) with parchment paper.
Blend oil with bananas and maple syrup until smooth.
In a large bowl combine remaining ingredients. Add banana mixture and stir well, making sure everything is coated. If the mixture seems a little dry, add a splash or two of oil. Pat mixture over parchment and bake for 15 minutes, until it begins to dry out. Remove from the oven and using a spatula, flip granola in chunks so the soft underside gets a chance to bake. Return to the oven and bake for 15 minutes more, stirring and flipping every 5 minutes. Set the timer! I did this while listening to Will Guidara’s Unreasonable Hospitality. The title sounds like a downer, but I had cried and was inspired to think differently about hospitality, all before the granola was ready. Such a good book.
Camille Becerra making marshmallows in 2014.