Credit…Linda Xiao for The New York Times. Food stylist: Maggie Ruggiero. Prop stylist: Megan Hedgpeth.
Last month, I went to hear the musician Jordan Rakei perform. I knew only a few of Rakei’s songs, but I was soon sucked into harmonies that bounced off the walls, forming a self-contained universe of jazz, soul and R&B. It was lush, lavish, bighearted — transportive but in an enigmatic way, as I couldn’t quite tell what about the music made it feel so complete.
It wasn’t until Rakei introduced his collaborators onstage — guitarists, singers, percussionists, keyboardists, a Corsican polyphonic group and half an orchestral arrangement — and allowed each a long solo that it all made sense. The whole wasn’t greater than the sum of its parts; it was a perfect embodiment of each part and its singular abundance. Rakei’s special gift was making room for everybody and still revealing his own textured voice.
Recipe: Cabbage and Mandarin Orange Winter Slaw
This bringing together of many elements into a singular work that transcends and resonates them is what happens every time we throw ingredients into a pot and cook them. And though this may seem pretty obvious, I am always amazed by how we take it for granted, ignoring how multilayered and diverse it actually is. This is best illustrated, I find, with a small (but mighty!) ingredient in my winter slaw: cumin seeds.
Whenever I am asked what spice I would save if I had to give up my entire spice drawer, or about my ultimate cupboard ingredient (there are many variations on this question), I say cumin. Though it may not be my favorite spice — is there even such a thing? — cumin is so singular in flavor that it’s definitely the most impactful. It also covers the most ground, in the kitchen and across the globe.
