She’s been dubbed “The Queen of Greens,” she’s won four James Beard Awards and her 14 cookbooks have sold more than 1.2 million copies.
But Deborah Madison’s latest work, “An Onion in My Pocket: My Life with Vegetables,” now out in paperback, isn’t a collection of recipes. It’s a memoir, although it isn’t fueled by a mushy love story or packed with boastful anecdotes. It’s about her personal relationship with food which is profound and, at times, downright spiritual.
A student of Buddhism, Madison lived at the San Francisco Zen Center, was eventually ordained a priest and for a time she was its abbot. She worked in the kitchen and found her entry into the world of fine dining through a tour she gave of Green Gulch in Marin County where the Zen Center grew produce.
The tourist was none other than Chez Panisse founder Alice Waters who was so impressed with this bright, young woman that she invited Madison to dine at the restaurant and subsequently hired her.
She was encouraged by her abbot to work in that hallowed kitchen and in retrospect Madison suspects he already had a plan to create Greens Restaurant. A ground breaking eatery, it was originally opened in 1979 as “an opportunity for Zen students to extend their Buddhist practice into a workplace setting.”
Of course Madison was the perfect choice as its founding chef. For her, the path to success wasn’t always a straight line. Yet it seemed her entire life was leading to that moment. She guides the reader through her fascinating twists and turns and reveals how the daughter of a UC Davis botany prof, and a mom who was an accomplished artist and writer, became a seminal figure in plant-based California Cuisine.
We spoke with Madison, now 76, who still cooks and gardens every day, although she no longer meditates. The conversation ranged from Zen to vegetables, her love of cheese, and why she finds labels like vegan and vegetarian so off-putting.
Q. My friend gave me Ruth Reichl’s latest book and I love her, but that sat on the nightstand while I was ripping through “Onion.” The writing was honest, direct, compelling. It captures a watershed era in California cuisine. Were you ever tempted to stay at Chez Panisse or go to another fine dining room?
A. I didn’t really think about it too much to tell you the truth. I did regret sometimes leaving California. On trips back, I’d say, why did I ever leave? It’s so wonderful here! And I’ve missed it a lot, but I’ve been told it’s not the same.
Q. “Onion” really reads like peeling one. We find out about you gradually through these great details. You go from the little girl who ate an entire dish of butter to the woman whose life changed when an old acquaintance grabbed her by the ankle. Was it always your intention to focus more on the subject of food and less on the personal?
A. I didn’t realize I had, but that could be true because I am very interested in plants right now.
Q. It’s not one of those Me! Me! Me! memoirs. What was your approach?
A. I actually started it about 15 years ago when I got a fellowship to Hedgebrook writer’s colony (in Washington state). At that time I was so concerned about not having a PhD and why didn’t I, and how could I be useful in the world. When I re-read it a year later, I thought, “Oh, no this is horrible!” I hated it.
Q. So?
A. I had to start over again. When I finally did, I don’t know what my intention was exactly. But when I got to the part about the making of Greens, I was very interested in how food had changed for all of us so much. Who makes a wilted spinach salad anymore? Nobody. But it was de rigueur at that time, as was having a mesquite grill, making your own pasta, cooking with lots of butter, eggs, and cream. Every chef was that way and we were all so excited about what was happening.
Q. I love that this book brings us closer and closer to understanding your sometimes spiritual connection to food. What did years of meditation do for you?
A. I’m not sure. My husband and I — he was also a Zen student — we often say, “Oh, did it make you calm?” And we say it with a hysterical lilt. I don’t know what it did for me, but it was my life for so long, for so many years, it’s hard to imagine it without it.
Q. Greens, which is still around after more than 40 years, is a great dining experience. But in the beginning it sounded like that reality show “Dinner: Impossible.” Like, “Here’s your staff, very few are trained cooks or restaurant workers. Here you go!” How did you not quit after two days?
A. I don’t know. I mean, I guess I wanted to be there because I did like to cook and everybody was excited about food at that point. We were all exploring similar things. Vegetables were just coming into the markets and into their own and we were growing them and other people were too. How did I not quit after two days? Believe me I don’t know. I had to see it through and I wasn’t there that long, only for about three years, four years. And then I had to go back to our monastery to be the head monk because it was my turn to do that. And I was terrified about that and terrified about the restaurant. I lived in terror for quite a while.
Q. But you kept going. With this project, you could have just written another cookbook.
A. I really wanted to retire from writing recipes because I just felt I’m repeating myself. They weren’t fresh anymore. And I just had to stop. That’s why I wrote the book and also that part about vegetarian problems. I felt very strongly about that.
Q. Which part of vegetarian problems?
A. That any kind of diet one chooses for one’s self — it’s understandable because the promises are so great — but in fact, they’re going to let you down. You’ll still be you. You’re not going to be a better person, really. And it’s gonna throw up walls of separation between you and other people. If you’re vegan, if you’re kosher, if you’re vegetarian if you’re this, if you’re that. So I’ve never ever liked putting a name to what I do. And believe me, I have done a lot of them except for the vegan part because I do love cheese and dairy very, very much.
Q. Bourdain said “Vegetarians and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans, are a persistent irritant to any chef worth a damn.” I was impressed that you are not a vegan evangelist, like Matthew Kenney. It’s interesting to me how plant-based cooking and eating continues to grow. Even Disneyland is on board. Do you find that gratifying, being associated with a kind of age of food enlightenment?
A. Well, yes and no. I actually don’t get to go out very much because I live in a tiny little village in New Mexico. Santa Fe is fairly close. … And it depends on what you’re talking about. If you’re talking about Impossible Burgers, I think that’s a travesty and it’s not what I’m interested in at all. I’m interested in how plants grow and fertilizing soil and so forth.
Q. What do you want readers to take away from this book?
A. My hope is that they would just lighten up their lives, especially if they have a food identity like “I’m a vegan!” Or “I’m a this!” or “I’m a that!” That they’d just be ready to let it go every now and then. That’s all.
‘An Onion in My Pocket: My Life with Vegetables’
Author: Deborah Madison
Publisher: Vintage
Price: $17