Jazz bassist Charles Mingus and the culinary arts

Making food and making music have much in common. Both coalesce the cognitive and the creative. Both require focus and discipline while finding a way to keep innovation unfettered. Both require mastery of the basics and attention to simplicity, rather than a striving for complexity.

What? you say. What is classical music if not complex? What about the complex counter beats of jazz, the riffs of some popular music, the harmonies of gospel? All have their complexities, as do many of the world's cuisines. Agreed. But bear with me on this thought for a few minutes.

Culinary-musical commonalities bring to my mind the late, great bass player and composer Charles Mingus (left), who is among my favorites in jazz.

His innovation, his discipline in getting the music just the way he wanted it and his musical attention to the region of his roots -- the U.S.-Mexican border -- all capture my attention. Mingus was born in the border town of Nogales, Ariz., the same town in which my mom was born.

My favorite Mingus music is his Tijuana Moods set, in which he played a few essential pieces of music several times over, adjusting in each to gain a slightly different outcome. Each is distinct, yet familiar and connected.

About music, Mingus said: "Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that's creativity."

The thought clearly applies to cooking, and it is especially in my mind this week as we approach the stress of final cooking competency exams in Culinary Foundations III.

In short, keeping it simple will serve us well.

Chef Instructor Dan Fluharty reminds us to keep it simple. He does so every time one of us asks about making a twist or turn in the proposed menu, every time one asks about adding an ingredient or using a cooking method other than what is prescribed, every time one says what if ...

Chef's response: Keep it simple.

He knows and is teaching us that the only way to get to complex is to start at simple. That's the key to success in our class.

Just as Charles Mingus found it to be in music.

Countdown to cooking school - 25 days

My appetite for cooking classes is growing, my patience is on simmer, and my anticipation is akin to that before being seated for a sumptuous meal.

The amuse bouche: I have completed enrollment for the California Culinary Academy, including a mouth-watering tour of kitchen classrooms.

The hors d'œuvre: New student orientation will be Sept. 19, at which I will receive my class schedule and meet fellow students.

The entrée: Nine months of classes and externship will begin Sept. 28.

The good folks at the Academy ask each enrolling student to apply for a scholarship and write an essay in support of the application. The exercise initially seemed unnecessary to me; I don't anticipate winning a scholarship over others who likely have greater financial need. Nevertheless, the school's enrollment process requires completion of the essay.

Having done so, I found that it focused my vision for enrolling in and studying at culinary school. Here's an edited excerpt of what I wrote:

Studying for a culinary arts certificate will enhance, refine and fulfill my passion for the kitchen and for cooking and eating healthy and well. With that knowledge, I plan to build a career linked to food, using my newly obtained culinary skills to help meet the great need for skilled culinary artisans at the local level. My idea is to emphasize eating well and healthy.

In addition, my writing and publishing background will allow me to spread the gospel of good and healthy eating beyond those I can touch in person. I foresee writing regularly about food for leading area and national publications, as well as continuing this blog as a daily journal of my culinary school experiences and beyond.

Obtaining a culinary arts certificate will honor my late mother, Ofelia Islas Chihak, who taught me to cook and encouraged me in every endeavor I undertook. She was an excellent cook of Mexican Sonoran cuisine, learned on her mother’s wood-burning stove on a borderlands ranch outside of Nogales, Arizona. She taught my brother, my sister and me to cook, partly through osmosis and partly through direct instruction. She did not consider herself a creator of fancy food, but she used wholesome, fresh ingredients and cooked creatively with what was available and what she knew.

Study at the Academy is a mid-life transition that will allow me to combine my previous vocation as a writer and editor with my avocation for cooking, fulfilling my culinary passion.

(Photo credit: www.chefs.edu/san-francisco)