Lessons from Abra Berens, writer and chef
One of my best (and only) past-times during the pandemic was going to the farmers’ market back home in Michigan and finding something that looked interesting and a recipe for it to make. It was a simple game to pass the time and to enjoy the place where I was living. Eventually the search for recipes online made me want to get a cookbook that I could cook through as another project, a la Julie and Julia sans the corresponding Blogger account. I went looking for top ten lists and found the Bon Appetit article which shared the top cookbooks of Spring 2019. It was serendipitous to find Ruffage by Abra Berens which spoke to my specific goal – learning about new ways to cook vegetables, admittedly learning about new vegetables (what is a sunchoke?), and about who grew them. Abra cultivated in me a new interest in the much-maligned food category, and a deep respect for the farmers who grew them. Who knew my home state of Michigan was one of the most agriculturally diverse states? Indeed, cooking through the cookbook was so well loved by my family that for Christmas I reached out to Abra who responded the same day that she would send a signed copy.
Stunned by her generosity, I was even more thrilled to find that one of my personal pandemic heroes would be willing to talk about her creative process with me on Ruffage, and her latest book, Grist, both of which I highly encourage you check out at her website http://abraberens.com/ and follow her on Instagram @abraberens
Below is the full transcript, but before I dive in, I want to share a few core messages on the creative process that I took away from our conversation:
Lesson 1: Make small but persistent asks
“While I was in Traverse City there was a great local paper called The Record Eagle and thought that I could write for them, sort of in the way that I asked the chef at Zingerman’s can I cook at your house – it didn’t occur to me that people don’t always ask for this kind of thing”
This is an obvious and common-taught lesson, but as Abra notes, not something people really do. She got her first stint in cooking by asking a chef to take her under his wing. She got her start in writing by asking a local newspaper if she could write a column for them. Now her writing and cooking has gotten several write-ups from major publications like Bon Appetit, The New Yorker, & The New York Times.
How I’ve thought about applying this lesson: For me, this has been a great push to continue to reach out to people about their creative work to learn more from them and share that. And it’s been a good push to even just ask for a conversation where someone can impart advice, even if you might not think there’s any professional or career gain to be had. Abra’s willingness to participate in this interview even shows how that strategy can pay off.
Potential exercise for you: Think of a list of people who you look up to in your field. Are there any names who you really respect, and you think might have the time or resources to respond to a message from a stranger? Select a few of these individuals and reach out – but with a concrete ask. It might be as simple as wanting to ask them for a book that they learned a lot from. Something beyond asking to chat helps increase your chance of responses. In this way it’s no different than professional networking, but I think the questions can be simpler and less loaded with expectations.
Lesson 2: Make your personal goals extend beyond your person
“How are you a necessary part of the conversation? Is it to make someone’s life easier? Is it a service to others? ”
When Abra talks about her goals, there is always a goal which is grounded in how she can support others or at least uplift their work. As part of the creative process, this foundation helps us to push through moments of self-doubt or obstacles.
How I’ve thought about applying this lesson: Abra has helped me think about how producing this work gives respect to the subjects I interview, and how I can share some of the great advice I’ve gathered from people who’ve gone through the work like Abra to someone like myself who wants to know how to push on. It also means that wanting to honor Abra’s work as I feel so honored to have chatted with her drives me to put in the time it takes to research, interview, transcribe, and share her lessons.
Potential exercise for you: Ask yourself, and take ten minutes to write down your answers, who could potentially benefit from seeing my work in this way or who do I honor by having my work featured? You might even want to ask, who do you owe it to? Maybe it’s that your art teacher in 5th grade made in you, or your mom who bought you paints. Maybe it’s your partner or good friend who really believes in your work. Maybe it’s a story that needs sharing or a group that needs representing. Brainstorming a list helps you find what resonates the most. And by the way – it’s okay to still have your primary driver be yourself in my opinion. Maybe it’s that having a successful show will let you focus solely on your art, but for this exercise let’s focus externally.
Lesson 3: Start with structure, then get to substance
“It’s within these structures I’ve found new creative processes driven out of these practical applications. ”
Through writing her cookbooks, Abra has used restriction as the basis for her creativity. By starting with restrictions and an outline, she can then tailor unique flairs to the recipe by thinking about how she might like to see it done. The backbone of the work is in the structure, everything beyond is an accessory.
How I’ve thought about applying this lesson: It’s not my way to usually write outlines, but I’ve used it to think about how I might explore a consistent format for a weekly blog for example. It also informs my work planning to say I am going to have this done by this date no matter what, and I’m generous if it takes a few more days but at least I have a line in the sand.
Potential exercise for you: What do you want to get done within the next few weeks? What are all the steps that would go into it, even the minutia (i.e., writing an email or learning more about a topic)? Write down each step and the timeline, and then try to assign “due-dates” which reflect a reasonable cadence that balances other obligations. It may be that your original timeline is too short – that’s okay and even a great thing to realize so you don’t get disappointed with unrealistic targets.
Full Interview Transcript:
Jack: First, before I jump in in depth, I’ve read about your background from Ruffage and from other interviews you’ve done, but I’d love it if you could share about your own transition through different roles to where you are now. I remember your food journey somewhat started at Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor, where we went to school, is that right?
Abra: I think maybe like any farm kid, I was just itching to not work on the farm, and when I was sixteen and suddenly I could drive on a real license instead of a farm license I got a job in town and worked in restaurants since that age. It was after school jobs and things like that. And then when I was in Ann Arbor and wanted to stay over the summer, I decided I need to get a job and Zingerman’s, I mean, sometimes I feel like somethings I just sort of stumble my way through great situations or into really great situations. I literally stumbled into Zingerman’s a couple of times and we had a family friend who had worked there for a long time who was a cool guy and I thought made good choices. Then I thought, oh yeah, this place.
It started just by taking sandwich orders and running sandwiches out to tables. As I was there for longer, I started to participate in the classes. They do all these programs that go into working there which is so rare for an hourly position and for a 19-year-old kid. I knew the chef a bit and so I felt comfortable, maybe more comfortable than I should have to just go up to him and say, “I want to learn how to make Chicken Paprikash, will you teach me? I can come over to your house and learn?” And he said, “No you can’t come to my house, but yes, we can teach you”. He saw my work ethic and so I started splitting time between the kitchen and the front of house and eventually because of staffing constraints I moved into the kitchen full time, which is where I started cooking professionally.
I always enjoyed cooking and my mom was really a tremendous cook growing up and meals were always how we connected which was the foundation. After a few years my now husband and I who met in Ann Arbor decided it was a good time to leave a few years after graduation and Zingerman’s had put me in touch with this Cooking School called Ballymaloe which is in the south of Ireland. Roger, the chef who I learned from had done an externship in cooking school there and said if I wanted to stay in food, there were things I needed to learn that I couldn’t here. I spent three months cooking there and then three months in the UK doing various work experiences, and all this time was spent really absorbing and learning. I feel fortunate that I stumble into the perfect situation of cooking school. This was not a 2 ½ year program, so I just felt like I was learning so much in these kitchens. Ballymaloe is a cooking school that’s on 100 acre working farm. It is the second part of a business that was started as a guest house, so really an additional source of revenue to supplement the farm, and all the things are linked together. I grew up in an agricultural family in an agricultural part of Michigan, and thought it seemed important to have these things connected.
My work seems inherently like a frivolous business but it’s to connect people to something greater than themselves and that was always lingering in the back of my mind. That’s kind of my north star. That’s most of the background. I started Bare Knuckle fam with a friend of mine to just learn more and really see that connection with the idea of having these meals. The meals went great but being between Traverse City and Chicago was not super smart. I stayed in Chicago for a little bit working in a few different kitchens, and really missed the farm life and that connection even though I’m not a farmer and I don’t ever want to be again. That said, all my work is in service to providing a platform for growers to share their stories or to have people like just care about what they are doing. At Granor, we use this example that being a CSA member is a several hundred-dollar commitments over 20 weeks, and dinner is just a one-time smaller commitment. It’s easier for people to wrap their heads around what they see in that meal vs. an entire years’ worth of produce in a CSA. The dinners are just an extension of what we are doing that is easier for people to understand.
Jack: Well, your goal of supporting farmers certainly has played out. I remember sending my boyfriend off on a journey to get sunchokes after reading what you wrote about the grower in Michigan who taught you about cultivating them. So, did you start working on Ruffage while you were on your farm, at Granor, or did that come before?
Abra: Yeah, well first I wasn't comfortable going from University of Michigan history and English degree to saying I'm going to work in kitchens. And when I went to cooking school, my friend Cliff often reminds me of this and he said, “so you're going to cooking school now” and I was like, yeah, but it's because I want to write about food, and I feel like to write about it successfully I must know more about it and understand it more. I used the same sort of logic when we were starting the farm and at one point I kind of fell in love with restaurants and farming and didn’t do as much writing.
But it was always in the back of my mind that I wanted to do it and I really enjoyed writing. While I was in Traverse City there was a great local paper called The Record Eagle and thought that I could write for them, sort of in the way that I asked the chef at Zingerman’s can I cook at your house – it didn’t occur to me that people don’t always ask for this kind of thing. I sent an e-mail saying this was my background and I’d love to write a regular column about what we’re growing and how to use it. It was great because when we talk about creativity, I thrive on restriction for creativity.
I don’t write poetry, but it’s easier for me to write a haiku than free verse – because with free verse there’s no structure to play against. And so, I find structure, construction, and deadlines super critical for me. Doing the column every two weeks was a rapid succession of writing with a great editor who didn’t edit my writing so much as give me new angles to think about it and help with the flow, as you can tell I’m a bit of a tangent person.
Jack: That’s the University of Michigan English Degree coming out
Abra: Ha, yes oh man. I really needed a practical implementation for these creative things. The column provided me that and I thought maybe if I wrote this long enough there would be a cookbook in it that I could just take all the columns and zip in between two covers. Which of course is not how it works. But it did really help as a friend sent some of these columns to my now literary agent saying, “I think Abra is ready to write a book”. We started working together and the book is a much deeper dive than any of the columns were which is how it should be. You’re taking something that’s inherently transient like eating, you eat the meal and it’s gone and you’re turning it into something permanent.
Abra’s first cookbook, Ruffage, available for sale at https://www.abraberens.com/
Columns are more of a middle ground as you know one day it’s in the paper and then the next people use it to start a fire or wrap fish – it’s not precious. The column was a super helpful step up and the books are a different thing – these meals come and go but hopefully the book is actually an education where you teach a technique or something about the ingredient or the grower that is permanent. There are always elements of the books I wish I could go back and change but it’s a different mindset, they are meant to be more permanent.
Jack: That reminds me that I want to go back to your point on using restrictions to be creative, especially in a project that you completed fairly independently. I’d love to hear how when writing the cookbook, what the restrictions you created looked like?
Abra: That pressure is there because there's other people involved. There’s my agent, there’s a team of editors on very strict publication schedules. And then there's a design team that requires stuff as in cookbooks, the authors are responsible for bringing in the photography and illustration. You’re not just an author but a project manager. For the next book, which is a fruit book coming out in Spring of 2023, I have to get the recipes and we’re on a different schedule since I’m also on the schedule of when fruit is available. Even when it’s not due for my editors it’s due to the growers to show respect to their work to have it done on time.
Jack: Wow, working quite seasonally like this isn’t something I’d have expected as a constraint either for writing.
Abra: That was true for Ruffage and for the upcoming book, less so for Grist since it’s available year-round.
Jack: And when you started with Ruffage, you obviously had some recipes but I’m curious if you built the recipes around the theme or did the theme sort of come out as you realized what you were excited about?
Abra: Structure comes first for me. I cannot imagine trying to write a book that’s just like pick 100 recipes you like which is like what a lot of great cookbooks are. For me it was, these are the vegetables we grow in the Northern Midwest. These are preparation techniques we use. You’ve read Ruffage so you might get this, but I like to compare it to an NCAA Bracket in Reverse. You started with the winner, which is the specific vegetable. Then you go back to the different preparation techniques. Then I see how roasted asparagus might be different than raw or poached. It felt critical to me that people understood the techniques so that you not only learn new techniques but also understand how the ingredient changes with these changes in preparation. The vegetables don’t tell you what to do – you have to tell them what to do and work together. I know that came out a bit hippy-dippy
Jack: I love the hippy dippy.
Abra: After those pieces come together, then I think about how to accessorize it which is really how I visualize other flavors. Then I thought I’m going to write this book, here’s my table of contents and that’s really the same thing as outlining an essay. Which I never really do with essays and I should go back to. It’s how they teach you to write.
I try to think first if I was eating roasted asparagus, what would I want it with? And I consider the season it’s available. Asparagus is hyper-seasonal so I like to think about what flavors are available around the same time in early spring, whereas beets there might be more variation since they’re available almost all the time.
For Grist, since legumes and grains are available year-round, I thought about pairing it to specific seasons. And the fruit book is also a different structure where I look at savory and sweet applications. It’s within these structures I’ve found new creative processes driven out of these practical applications.
Jack: After Ruffage, how did you decide to do another book? How did Grist come about?
Abra: Well, it comes from Zingerman’s visioning but I have a permanent and of course evolving 3-to-5-year plan and a 10-year vision, and so I knew I wanted something that would be easier to do later in life when I don’t want to be on two feet in the kitchen all day. So right now, I want to diversify what I do to have longer term stability and I really enjoyed the book. The book was well received, and I thought there was an opportunity to do more. I pitched it as a series earlier on I think we had a conversation during Ruffage release about all sorts of unique angles to pitch including the fruit book but also, we were growing amazing grains at Granor, so I thought what would a book about that look like? My editor lit up about that idea. I realized she was excited about grains and I was excited about fruits, and we agreed to do both and see how they go.
Jack: Sounds like a very busy couple of years
Abra: Oh yeah, it’s been great. Six months after Ruffage I pitched and got to work in Fall of 2019 on Grist.
Jack: Taking a step back, you’ve had great accolades for Ruffage. I’m assuming even more than you could have expected, and I’d love to hear how before the book went out into the world, what your definition of success looked like?
Abra: That’s a really good question, I think it’s some important for people to think about. It’s another thing I took from Zingerman’s which is asking yourself, how do you measure this?
I wrote down a list of benchmarks for success and which were either qualitative or quantitative and one of the benchmarks for success was that Ruffage would be successful enough, either financially or emotionally, that Chronicle would want to do another book together.
I think it's important for people to think about. There's lots of different ways to measure success, and I think again, and not to like be in the Zingerman's fangirl camp, and clearly, I am, they have three different bottom lines that they measure all their decisions against. There's great food, great service, and great finance. And if a decision is justifiable along any two of those, it’s a success or they do it.
I wanted Ruffage to be commercially viable enough to do another book for one, and the other was that everyone who worked on it would feel that their work was well represented, and contributors were respected. And that’s been a success since 100% of the people I worked with on Ruffage now worked on Grist and the fruit book. There were also some far-reaching ones like talking with Terry Gross, and that didn’t happen of course. But it’s been amazing to see that a non-celebrity chef from the Midwest who wrote a book about vegetables to be in the New York Times and New Yorker. It was just so crazy. I feel so privileged to be in that position since there are better writers and chefs than I am. I constantly feel grateful.
Jack: And of course, the CBS show which was incredible.
Abra’s latest cookbook, Grist, is now available for sale on her website at http://abraberens.com/ and many indie bookstores
Abra: Another thing about creativity is that I always worked so much that I was too tired to be nervous. I just get this done and go home. I’m so glad that CBS thing happened at the end of a week in New York where I was running all over the island and seeing like seven people a day, doing publication events, so I was exhausted. I got in there and I was a bit nervous, but I got the advice that all questions are just about your life. It’s not math, it’s just you.
Jack: On days like those when you’re working a lot, how have you managed your responsibilities between Granor and you’re writing and the publication events, as I know there’s a lot of creatives balancing their work and their creative work?
Abra: It’s funny you ask because my husband and I were talking about how we just don’t balance the two. We realized we don’t have hobbies because what we do for work is a hobby for many others, as my husband is a musician, so he’s not going to play the guitar for funsies. I’m not going to do a huge cooking project at home. It’s a big help that there really isn’t a divide between my work since Granor really informs what I do in my writing.
But really, it’s about being adept at compartmentalization. When Eric is on the road we don’t talk as much as we do normally since we are on different timelines but when he’s home we’re home and present. That’s true for food work and probably the best creative work should take up your attention and be poured into. Then when it’s done, it’s done, and you go on to the next thing. A snapshot of my life might look unbalanced but in the long run I think it balances out
Jack: Are there ever days when you are too exhausted or don’t feel like working but you have deadlines and have to push through?
Abra: Two things come to mind. If it’s a meal at Granor and I’m not feeling super creative I give myself the grace to not be, the best ever. I know as long as I do good work it’s still tasty, it doesn’t matter if it’s not blazing a new culinary path. And for me, the fact is with writing I can’t function in writing when I feel totally not creative. It’s better for me to go for a walk or do something physical or cook where you use your hands or body and only a portion of your brain. It gives me time to just think and then I go to sleep and the next morning maybe I wake up early and grind it out, and I’ve had the time to think which means I’m not forcing anything.
I wish I could be more disciplined since I don’t believe in waiting for the muse or whatever you want to call it, but this has been what’s worked best for me.
Jack: Two quick follow-ups since you just prompted it for me before you go. What would you say to creatives who do get in slumps or maybe they’ve started a project then hit a hurdle and think they can’t do it, or put more simply, how do you confront self-doubt?
Abra: For me it’s mitigated by the why: What's the benefit to other people you know? And people often say that like if you're feeling depressed or like the world is falling apart, do something for someone else, and it’s often right. That course. I also think that as much as possible, you know for me again, this is a little bit of naivete. I wrote Ruffage on my couch and didn’t think about the reader. It was purely this private exercise. Grist was harder in that way, but the deadlines and having others relying on me helped push it through
Jack: That’s amazing, I love how you always are thinking about other people and have that as a marker of success as well, so it feels a bit beyond a self-indulgent goal. Do you have any other final tips for people pursuing creative projects or in taking on creative risks?
Abra: I would just try to think about why you are really doing it. Paul Saginaw, one of the founders of Zingerman’s says, half of it belongs to the people who came before you as a gratitude for blazing the path and the rest is given to those coming up behind you. And then if you think about it that way, how are you a necessary part of the conversation? Is it to make someone’s life easier? Is it a service to other?
Then I’d say plan for the best and the worst. I have yet to meet someone who started a small business or creative project that isn’t later overrun by people excited by what they are doing.
Jack: Abra, thanks so much and this is so helpful to me personally as I embark on this journey with Creation Stories and I’m grateful to share your lessons with others also.
Abra: Yeah, I mean that's the thing you never know where it's going to go. I don't think that when Paul and Ari started Zingerman's, they thought that there would be somebody who would eventually come through their kitchen who might then have a writing piece that would touch someone else. It’s the butterfly effect I guess, or the ripples outward. I'm excited for you in this project and it's really nice that you're asking these questions of people and I feel honored to be a part of it.
