The Culinary Arts

One of my favorite arts, if not my favorite overall, is the culinary arts.

I think we overlook it as an art form, but there’s nothing that brings people together like food. Nothing. Not music, not sports, not anything. A meal at a table is where people connect, and I’ve been lucky enough to experience that connection at every level. From the neighborhood shacks I grew up going to in Dallas, to meals my aunts prepared for the family, to dining at the French Laundry and sitting with multiple Michelin star chefs. I’ve been blessed to do it all, and it all resonates deeply.

People hear “culinary arts” and think fancy and expensive. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about all of it. The plate your grandmother makes that nobody else can replicate. The hole in the wall spot your friend swears by. The street food and the food trucks in a city you’ve never been to. All of it is culinary art. All of it takes skill, attention, and love to make well.

The moment that changed my entire perspective on food happened when I was 19 in Toronto. A friend took me to a traditional Chinese restaurant that served some pretty adventurous dishes. He offered me something and I said, no, I don’t want that. I don’t like that. He looked at me with this face, I still don’t know if he was mad or confused, and he said asked me, how do you know you don’t like something if you haven’t tried it?

The dish I’m he offered was razor clams in black bean sauce. I was apprehensive. I’m not going to lie. But after he went off on me, I tried it and I ended up liking it. That one moment changed my life and my whole approach to food. I became more willing to try things I’d never tried before. More adventurous. More open. And that openness led to some of the best experiences of my life.

What I love most about cooking is the focus it demands. It forces you to follow instructions, manage your area, pay attention to timing, and stay locked in. If you lose focus, you mess up the meal. Leave something in the skillet or the oven too long and it burns. Don’t clean as you go and the kitchen falls apart. It’s a discipline that requires your full attention from start to finish.

During the NBA playoffs, cooking became my ritual. If we were at home, I would cook a big dinner the night before for multiple people. It served two purposes. It kept me in the house so I wouldn’t be tempted to go anywhere or sit around bored. And it gave me something to pour my focus into that wasn’t basketball so that I could get my mind off of the game for a little bit. The goal, just like a playoff game, was to win. I wanted a successful meal at the end of the day, because I put real work into it. The flavors, the herbs, the small details that other people might not notice when they eat it, I noticed them. And I enjoyed every part of that process.

A chef I met once gave me a book on the culinary arts, and it pulled me in deep. The science behind preparation. What certain foods pair well together. Making sure you have an acid to cut through if you have a fatty dish. There are so many ways to prepare the same meal or create a completely different experience with the same ingredients. That book opened my eyes to how much depth exists in something most people do every day without thinking about it.

Even now, when I’m traveling to a new city or going on vacation, the first thing I want to do is find the best food. That’s always my priority. And it doesn’t have to be a reservation at the hottest restaurant. It could be the best taco spot in the neighborhood or a place a local tells you about that you’d never find on your own.

I’d encourage you to do the same thing. Try something you’ve never tried before. Go to a spot that serves a cuisine you’re unfamiliar with. Cook a meal at home that challenges you. The culinary arts can be a point of connection with those around you and people you’d never expect to meet, and you’d be surprised at what you end up liking.

How do you know you don’t like something if you haven’t tried it?