For almost a decade, I’ve been getting my haircut by Van Capizzano, the proprietor of Tribe Barber1. He gives a terrific haircut, but the main reason I keep going back is because of the conversation.
I’m only half-kidding.
Each time I sit down in Van’s chair, I get an unthrottled take on whatever is on Van’s mind for that season2. Our conversations have ranged from whether or not you can teach someone to dance3, what type of music is the best4, what it’s like cutting Bryce Harper’s hair5, to why he was upset he won Boston Magazine’s “Best Shave6”
One topic that we always circle back to, however, is Boston, the city.
And specifically, why Boston is so… boring7.
In Van’s mind, Boston is boring for a multitude of reasons: there are no good restaurants, no good places to get a haircut8, no cool places to get a drink. The people who live here all grew up in the same suburbs9, went to the same colleges, work the same jobs, vacation in the same places, wear the same clothes. Bostonians are content to live their lives according to the same patterns every day, never wondering “why?”
Van wonders. Van wonders a lot and out loud.
“Why are there only a handful of tall office towers in Boston?10”
“Why aren’t there any nail salons in Boston?11”
“Why does everyone in the Greater Boston Area give directions based on proximity to other towns?12”
Last time I was getting my haircut, Van explained his latest theory on this lack of wonder: Bostonians are born to study. They know what they need to know, they know it, and don’t want to know any more13. We talked about how most of his clients can't visualize14, how they don't have a running inner dialogue with themselves15, how they lack wonder16.
Whether or not you believe this about Bostonians17, I think we can all agree that wonder is a good thing, and we should be doing more of it18.
Especially in the kitchen.
One thing I wonder about a lot is the providence of a lot of cooking techniques and meals. Who thought to cook meat in a fire for the first time19? To Who said, hey, I wonder what happens if I smash these tall grasses, mix the plant dust with water, let it sit out for a few days, and when it starts to smell a little funky, I'll throw it in a clay pot and put it near the fire20?
Every so often I get a little melancholy, thinking about how few true discoveries are left to be made. Beyond venturing to space, there are so few unknowns on the map — “Here there be dragons!” no more. It’s the same with culinary technique: how much more is there really left to do? We’re not reinventing bread, remaking pasta, inventing new ways to cook a steak21, finding new ingredients. Even when you ask AI to come up with novel recipes, it really just rehashes existing ones with new ingredients.
That isn’t to say we should stop wondering, though. When you’re in the kitchen, cooking, ask yourself: “Why am I doing this like this?” When a recipe calls for doing something a certain way, it’s okay to question why. Sometimes, it’s an important step and other times you’re just doing things because that’s how it’s always been done22. You should be playful, be creative — wonder.
This recipe is a chance to do that. When my buddy Rocky from
posted some pasta inspiration a few weeks ago on Twitter, I wondered — hey, can we make this? What if we added sourdough discard to the dough? Could you amp it up with truffle butter? We may not be reinventing pasta, but we can still try to improve it.So, we tried — and it turned out pretty all right, all things considered23!
In a large mixing bowl, dump about three cups of flour24 and make a little hole in the center25. Sprinkle some salt into the flour and chop up about a half ounce of dried mushrooms, adding those to the well.
In another container, add two eggs and one egg yolk to about a cup of water26 and mix well. Slowly pour this mixture into the center of the well, mixing with a fork as you go, drawing the flour into the egg mixture. After a certain point, it will form into a dough ball, at which point you can begin kneading with your hands, for about 8 minutes, until the ball is elastic and springy. You may need to add some more flour or water to get the correct texture, but you’ll get there. Cover the pasta and let it rest in the fridge for a few hours27.
With a pasta maker if you have it, or a rolling pin and a knife if you don’t, roll the pasta out and cut it to your desired shape. Lightly dust with flour or cornmeal, and then add to boiling water, cooking for just a few minutes until toothy. Serve with your favorite pasta sauce — or just butter and Parmigiano Reggiano28.
There we go. Mushroom pasta. This is probably one of those dishes that you don’t need to make every week, or month even — but it’s fun to every so often try something new. Whether it’s making pasta, trying to cure your own ham, or baking bread, when you take some time to wonder how a seemingly “basic” item is made, you gain a deeper appreciation for the convenience and ease we have today.
As I often say, what a time to be alive.
With that, get out there and enjoy the weekend. Wonder a bit, wander, be curious. Maybe try to drive somewhere without using a map or GPS. You never know what you might find.
I have, of course, written about Van before — which was actually the first “serious” post I did on here and kicked off slew of essays written since.
I say season since I typically only get my haircut every 4-6 months — once a season.
You can’t.
Anything that’s new, according to Van.
About the same as cutting anyone else’s.
Because he should have won “Best Haircut.”
I’ll add here this is Van’s opinion, not my own — that being said, he’s probably not entirely wrong.
Except his own, of course.
Van keeps a list of where all his clients come from — it’s dominated by a handful of Boston suburbs (you can probably guess which ones… many of them start with a “W.”)
Van thinks it’s because during the Big Dig, it was easier for the bankers who lived west of the city to commute to Back Bay via the Pike. That may be part of it, but really, in the 60’s, the Boston Committee of Civic Design designated the areas between Boylston St. and Huntington Ave. as the right place to build height and density — being that most of that area was under developed industrial and redevelopment wouldn’t ruin the existing, historical surrounding areas like Bay Village and the nicer parts of Back Bay and South End.
I’m pretty sure there are, but no “great ones” — because according to Van, nail salons are for women to compete with one another on how good their nails look — and Boston women don’t care to compete on looks.
This one, to Van, a New Yorker, is frustrating to no end. Just give which direction, which major road, and how far from Boston! No one cares that Winchester is the town over from Lexington and Arlington! That’s not helpful if you don’t know where those towns are, either!
(Of course, you could rebut — you’ve been in Boston a decade. Maybe take a quick peek at a map every once and awhile? There was a pretty famous Revolutionary War battle that took place in Lexington, by the way!)
(Don’t forget to wish your favorite New Englanders a happy Patriot’s Day!)
Exempli gratia: As long as you know enough to pass the SAT, the MCAT, the LSAT, or the GMAT, you’re good to go. You just need to know enough to get into the right kinda schools (so you can wear the right sweatshirt and cover yourself like a bruise).
Me being one of these people — though I am starting to get it back, 20 years after the concussion that took away my ability to visualize.
Van’s is constant, apparently, but not surprisingly if you know him.
Mine certainly isn’t.
Van has a notebook filled with tallies of his latest experiments. He’s shown me lists of hair and eye color, where clients are from, can they visualize, do they have an inner monologue, where did they meet their spouse. He’s got a pretty remarkable little sociology lab going on, come to think of it. A treasure trove for future cultural anthropologists.
Serendipity is a funny thing. I wrote about wonder, indirectly, a few weeks ago.
I’m undecided as a whole — but I do love Boston.
Science posits that a fire broke out near a food store, and somebody tried the charred remains.
That’s bread, if you didn’t get it — and man, are those a lot of “what ifs” for some caveman to go through!
I guess the plant-based meat folks would beg to differ.
Peeling tomatoes for tomato sauce is an example that immediately comes to mind.
Just like Mrs. CWD and my marriage, right!?
You can use semolina flour if you have it.
You’ll see this referred to in many cookbooks as “making a well.”
If you have on hand, like we usually do, some sourdough starter, you can substitute at least half the water with discard to give the finished pasta a little tang.
Or at room temp if you used sourdough.
We did meat sauce with some leftover bison chuck roast, red wine, tomatoes, carrots, onions, and a parm rind. Delicious!
I never use GPS--still haven't figured out to use it. See how adventurous Nana CWD is without even trying!
As always, the commentary is as, if not more, delightful than the recipes. I probably won't try this one. I am not THAT adventurous!