The Naked Cook

It started with the moist, golden carrot cake. LikeHansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs dropped along the forest path, I followed atrail of carrot cake crumbs around Blenheim. Birthday, lunch, a mid-winterfeast and a wake – all included this large, rich cake that had just the rightproportion of everything. It put a smile on my face at the first mouthful, andthe reason there were only crumbs left is that everyone else seemed to feel thesame.

This cake, with cream-cheese icing and cut in notparticularly regular slices, is made by Marcia Chang-Hong – a not particularlyregular chef.

Firstly, I’m not allowed to call her a chef, eventhough she’s cooked at top restaurants in Toronto and London, and makeseverything from shin of beef to chocolate-chip cookies taste sublime. Secondly,I’m not allowed to interview her. Here are the ground rules: “You must not callme a chef. I am not a chef. I am a cook. And don’t interview me. I hate talkingabout myself. I’m a Pisces. I don’t do public.”

That makes Marcia (pronounced “Marsha”) sound grumpy,which isn’t fair. While she sometimes has a certain look that means thediscussion has ended, she is more likely to be giggling and gossiping andtalking about food. When Marcia cooks, it is for others – it’s not about herego or how clever she is. And that’s why, in this age of celebrity chefs wholove to show off, I’m going to persevere. Over the weeks, I ask a lot ofquestions and write down what she says when she’s not looking.

Marcia was born in Trinidad. Her parents immigrated tothe Caribbean from China via Hong Kong, forced out by the Cultural Revolution.Marcia says her mother grew up in a privileged household with servants, and herfavourite place was in the kitchen watching the cooks at work. When it came tobringing up her own family of seven children (Marcia is the youngest), sheinsisted that meals were spent together, and her daughter would watch herprepare them.

But it wasn’t until Marcia was 23 and living inToronto that she stumbled upon the idea of cooking as a career. “I dropped outof university after many failed attempts and ended up talking to a friend whosehusband was a chef at a French restaurant. He offered me a job doing menialtasks like peeling 20 pounds of potatoes and scrubbing buckets of mussels everynight, all on minimum wage. I loved it, even though it was hard, and beforelong I was roasting ducks and making chocolate mousse. I never looked back.”

She moved on to Brownes Bistro, one of the toprestaurants in Toronto. It was renowned for its modern bistro food – grilledmeats, pastas and thin-crust pizzas – at reasonable prices. Marcia was soonpromoted to pastry chef. The Blenheim-born owner, Peter Burge, said she was anatural cook. “You really have to love food to be a good cook, and Marciadefinitely loves her food. It’s that, along with her great organisationalskills, that made such an impression.” This is all true, even if Peter is a bitbiased – he married the pastry chef.

They moved to London where Peter baked artisan breadand Marcia worked at Kensington Place, an award-winning restaurant that led theway for modern British cooking. Head chef Rowley Leigh let her loose onstarters, vegetables and mains, and after a year appointed her head chef at TheBrackenbury in Hammersmith. A popular haunt with BBC ‘luvvies’, everything wascooked fresh and comfort food was the order of the day.

And this is still her philosophy today: “My food isfresh and local, and not mucked about with. I don’t use weird combinations orforeign ingredients to make food stand out. It should stand out because ittastes really good and yummy, and is satisfying.”

Marcia left The Brackenbury to move to Blenheim sixyears ago. Peter’s father was getting on and Marcia was ready for a change.“When I left London, I wanted to retire from cooking. The hours and stress weretoo much. I was ready to do something new.”

They set up a bread stall at the Marlborough Farmers’Market – Peter baked while Marcia handled sales. They soon had a loyal clientelebowled over by the handmade rye, sourdough and wholemeal loaves. For people who“don’t do public”, they quickly made friends. Marcia also met more people throughher teaching of Pilates (described as torture sessions or unmissable, dependingon who you talk to).

Walking along the street with her is a bit like beingwith the Princess Royal – she seems to know everyone. Despite being just 5’2”,she’s easy to spot. There’ll be a willow basket over her arm containing herwallet and phone, and something just cooked or preserved to be given away. Shewears T-shirts and shorts all year round, with a thick woolly scarf in winter.She has the ankles of an elegant Parisian but instead of Ferragamo stilettosshe wears battered Birkenstocks.

This down-to-earth approach is a good fit with SeresinEstate, the winery that found Marcia via her London connections. MichaelSeresin, New Zealand cinematographer and founder of the organic wine label inMarlborough, was a regular diner at Kensington Place. Chef Rowley Leighinsisted that Michael track her down. Marcia wasn’t too keen at first. “I justwanted to cook what I wanted, when I wanted. I didn’t want anyone telling mewhat to do. I thought I was unemployable.”

Seresin had the nous to give her free rein and she isnow part of the fabric of the company. Her ingredients often come from theestate’s organic garden and farm. She cooks everything from hearty lunches forharvest workers to corporate dinners at Seresin’s boathouse restaurant atWaterfall Bay in the Marlborough Sounds.

For the Pinot Noir release dinner in August, the guestlist included the sommelier, chef or owner from six finalists in the Cuisine Restaurant of the Year awards.This would be a daunting task for any chef (or cook), but Marcia wasn’t fazed.This is the email she sent to the Seresin office:

“Here is a draft of the menu. It doesn’t sound wordybut you know I think less is more. Open to any suggestions for changes as longas they don’t entail any of the following words: drizzled, accompanied by,matched with, served with, infusions, essence, freshly grown, market fresh,hand picked, salad greens, glazed, topped with…”

Not a word was changed in the seven-course menu.

The unchanged menu:

Bouillabaisse

Crisp duck breast, Asian marinade, stir fry vegetables

Moana Clementine ice

Rack of venison grilled on the wood fire, celeriac andpear, caramelized shallots and chocolate.

Among the guests was Wellington chef and Listener food writer Martin Bosley, whodescribes Marcia as an instinctive and intelligent cook. “As soon as I tastedthe first dish, I knew it was Marcia’s. She’s a cook whose personality, passionand love for food come through in every mouthful. To eat her food is a joy.When Marcia cooks, wonderful things happen.”

Marcia says Waterfall Bay is a good fit for her.“Sitting in London, trying to plan the next stage of my work, I couldn’t haveimagined working somewhere this beautiful – with the bush and the sea – and Iget the run of the place! And I cook what I want. I didn’t think such a jobexisted.”

“Seresin really suits the way I cook – all fresh, nofuss. I’m not into long, drawn-out preparation. I don’t do stacks and drizzlesor molecular foam. Why reinvent food when it’s perfectly good just as it is?”

In November, at a spring lunch for 30 guests, Marciawas in her element frying whitebait fritters, grilling rack of lamb on theoutdoor fire and keeping an ear out for comments coming back from the diningroom. Her food, together with the wine, worked a special alchemy. Diners swappedplaces between courses, chatted to complete strangers and wandered outside toenjoy the surroundings.

Marcia was delighted. To her, this is what food isabout – making people feel good. She was even persuaded to come into the diningroom for a brief public appearance and returned the compliments with just onesentence – “Thank you very very much for coming” – before scampering back intothe kitchen.

Marcia’s friends won’t see much of her this month as she works with the Seresin team to pull together the Waterfall Bay series ofdinners and lunches to coincide with the Marlborough Wine and Food festival.This is her ultimate backroom role. Each year, an acclaimed overseas chef walksinto the tiny kitchen at Waterfall Bay and everything he needs to create hisfive-course menu is in place, from kumquats to kitchen staff, thanks to Marcia.

“My life is complete chaos and stress for two months.It’s like setting up a restaurant from scratch, but in this case it’s only openfor six meals for 250 people over four days. For two weeks, my house is turnedinto a food department. I lie in bed at 7.00am waiting to hear the courier vancome up my street.”

Once the guest chef arrives, Marcia says her rolechanges to Camp Mother – making sure everyone knows where everything is andwhat they’re doing.

She says it’s great to see how someone else cooks.“Even if it isn’t the style of food I would cook, it’s always good to tasteother people’s food.” But she finds it hard to hand over the reins. “I’m veryprotective and territorial of Waterfall Bay, and I do walk around as if I ownthe place.” This doesn’t seem to be a problem for Seresin – the Waterfall Baystaff manual says: “Do exactly what Marcia tells you and don’t upset her.”

Back home in Blenheim, Marcia never relinquishes herkitchen. “I do the cooking, Peter does the gardening.” But when the two cometogether in a pizza-making session it is pure theatre.

Marcia makes a batch of no-knead yeast dough and letsit rest overnight. She turns on the oven and puts in the pizza stone. At thispoint Peter is allowed into the kitchen but things don’t get off to a goodstart. He’s not happy with the oven temperature: “It’s not on full. It’s nothot enough. We have to wait!” He’s the only person who can tell Marcia off inher own kitchen, and even then she’s not taking it. “Well, if it wasn’t onfull, why weren’t you checking it?!” Her Caribbean lilt gets stronger as shegoes on the defensive.

Peter takes over the dough – rolling, shaping andlifting it up to the light, as diaphanous as Princess Di’s skirt. The bakerappreciates the good dough as he shapes it into a very thin circle. Marciaspreads it with homemade tomato paste and mozzarella – a classic margherita. Itis in the oven for four minutes and on our plates a minute later, cut intoeight regular slices by Peter.

The dough is somehow crisp and pliable at the sametime, and easily rolled into the mouth by hand. There are no knives and forkson the table: “Pizzas must be eaten with the hands. They taste better likethat,” declares Marcia.

We finish the first one before the next constructionbegins. The margherita becomes the base for small Italian meatballs – extrudedfrom fennel and chilli sausages made by local butcher Mike Newman at Meaters.Straight out of the oven, the sizzling pork balls are irresistible. A pizza inNaples could not taste better than this.

So why not start a restaurant in Marlborough? Marciaanswers straight away. “No way. I want my freedom. I want my life. I want tokeep enjoying cooking.”

We finish up with carrot cake, with icing of course.“Doesn’t everyone eat carrot cake just for the icing?” she says. “The cake isthe carrier for what we really want to eat. It’s like eating Christmas cakejust to be rewarded with the marzipan.”

I ask if carrot cake is her signature dish. “I don’tdo signature dishes,” Marcia says with that look that brooks no argument, “butthis is one of my favourite things to make and eat.”