“In cooking, when you feel like you're doing something new, you always come to realise there's nothing new”. For chef Enrique Olvera, a certain humility goes a long way. Born in Mexico City, he studied in New York and worked in Chicago before moving back home to open his first restaurant, Pujol, in 2000. At the time, Olvera was twenty-four, ambitious, and perhaps a little self-conscious. He began using French culinary techniques on indigenous Mexican ingredients. It wasn’t until several years later that he learned to engage these ingredients on their own terms, to adapt his approach, and to stop trying so hard to do something new.
*Amadai ikejime from Ensenada with mole verde made of pistachio, white beans, berros, and marinated chalots in bruja sauce
That Pujol is consistently heralded within the upper echelons of world restaurants indicates the subtle wisdom of Olvera’s philosophy. “I love our traditions and respect them”, he once said in an interview, “but I cannot improve them, they’re already perfect”. Instead, Olvera has become renowned as a great respecter of tradition, an accomplished technician, a stylist, and a man who wants his patrons to step out of his restaurants surprised, satiated, and delighted. Olvera has launched too many restaurants to name across the beating hearts of food culture in the Americas: New York, Mexico City, Los Angeles, and Oaxaca. His celebrity has gone from minor to major; he appears on Netflix shows, collaborates with Shake Shack, has lines out the door for his $5 tacos in Brooklyn, and, yes, gets his brain picked by editors in magazine interviews. All the while, Olvera’s search for novelty, for a fresh perspective, and for evolution has remained unceasing. We sat down with him to discuss culinary culture in Latin America, the visual aspect of cooking, and the journey towards perfection.
| Elroy Rosenberg | It has been said that to cook is to know with equal mastery your ingredients and your techniques. Which of these elements did you learn first, and how did you learn it? |
| Enrique Olvera | My first approach to cooking was at my parents' house, watching, helping, and then experimenting throughout my childhood and adolescence. I try to maintain my curiosity and interest in learning. I believe that if you decide to do so and are open to it, you never stop learning. |
| ER | Growing up in Mexico, how important was cooking to your family life? |
| EO | It has had, and continues to have, a very important role of union, coexistence, and enjoyment. |
| ER | There was a short film made recently about your house outside Mexico City—evidently, you have a strong visual sense. How much does the visual aspect play into your cooking? |
| EO | The aesthetic aspect has always interested me. I enjoy architecture, interior design, and the visual arts in general. It is very natural for me to seek to create balance or harmony in any composition, whether it is on a plate or within a space; I try to achieve this through simplicity, without ornaments or excesses. |
| ER | Pujol opened in 2000. What made you launch that restaurant? When you think back to your first few months of service, what do you remember? |
| EO | I wanted to have my own restaurant and I persistently searched for the possibility to make it happen. From the first months, I remember the patience and tolerance of our customers. |
| ER | You have spoken about your interest in imperfection—the cover of your cookbook Tu Casa Mi Casa even has a chipped plate on it. This might strike people as unintuitive, considering that the very idea of being a Michelin-starred chef is associated, for most of us, with the most rigorous, marginal, down-to-the-second kind of perfection. Have you always embraced a philosophy of imperfection? |
| EO | I believe that perfection is a longing, an aspiration; it exists more as a search or an intention than as a destination or place of arrival. There is rigour in what I do and I am interested in transmitting this to my team, but, with experience, I have also allowed myself freedom so that the search for perfection is not an obsession that leads to frustration. |
| ER | One could argue that Latin America is at the cutting edge of today’s international culinary culture. Is this a view you share? |
| EO | I believe that the culinary phenomenon we have experienced in recent years has been expansive and has spread to many countries—and all continents. There is a growing interest and new proposals emerge every day. Latin America is undoubtedly part of this phenomenon and has a lot to offer, starting with an extraordinary cultural richness and biodiversity, but there are also many other regions from which young people are proposing, innovating, and demonstrating curiosity, history, new products, and, of course, talent. |
| ER | What skills or approaches do you see amongst the newly-emerging generation of chefs that give you cause for optimism, and/or are there aspects of the new generation that worry you? |
| EO | I believe that, both nationally and internationally, there is a very enriching exchange of knowledge, ideas, techniques, and ingredients. The new generation has a great curiosity and a very stimulating disposition to dialogue and collaboration amongst colleagues. On the other hand, there is more and more access to free and open information, which increases the opportunities to access knowledge in an autonomous way. |
| ER | Food is an element of life that both ties us to our home cultures and enables us to go beyond ourselves. Do you feel strongly tied to Mexico? Has this changed over the years? |
| EO | I feel very rooted in my country; however, my curiosity and interest in knowing and learning about other cultures has been, and continues to be, very strong. |
