36
From top left:
beetroot ‘prune’
withwalnutmilk
andwalnutbutter;
pumpkinice cream
withYorkshire
rhubarb;the dining
room at Silo◀of theeasyself-assurancetaught
andvalidatedbyformaleducation.
He’s profoundlydyslexicand,byhis
owndescription,“failedmiserably
in school,miserably”,leavingat
16 andenteringthebrigadeat the
two-starWinteringhamFields
in Scunthorpe.Itwas,hesays
“everythingthatatwo-Michelinstar
restaurantwas15years ago.Crazy
hours, aggressive chefs...it was
violent,physicallyandmentally.”
Despite this,“Ifellinlovewith
kitchens.Itwas asortofpirate
ship... There were rulesbut also
anarchyandchaos,whichIfind
very appealing.
“I neverreallyfellin love with
food.Idon’t love it,it’ssostressful.
ThepressureIput onmyself is so
highthatif it’snot anythingbut
brilliant, thenIbeatmyselfup
aboutit.AndIdon’t sleep.And
Ijustobsess overhowto makeit
brilliant, constantly.Idon’t enjoy
cookingbecause it’snot fun...not
funforme.”
It’sstrangeto meet achefthat
doesn’twantto reduceeverypart
of theconversationto thefood,but
McMastermakes hisideasseem
biggerthantheplate.
“Myvision, coretoSilo,isto
work withnature,” hesays.“Ifeel
likethisiscomingfromanartistic
place, actually. Idon’t necessarily
reallythinkthatI’mchangingthe
world.Ijustthink,as adirection
of mylife, if I’mgoingto create
somekindof meaning,I’mgoing
to followthispremonitionabout
azero-wasterestaurant.
“Maybeotherpeoplewon’t getit,
otherpeoplethinkI’mwrong,and
that’sfine.ButIfeellikethisisa
goodideaandI’mdoingit because Ireallybelieve thatit’stherightthing
to do...Ijusthave thissortof urge,
this...thing.”
Iamusedtochefswith
pretensions to beartists,but Idon’t
thinkIhaveeverencountered
onewithamorenuanced
understandingof whatthatmight
meanintermsofself-expression
ratherthanmercurialbehaviour
andtempertantrums.
“Mydadwasareallybrilliant
artistandhealways talkedabout
expression,about certainthings
in theworldthatare beautifuland
needto beexpressed. Ijusthave
thissortof wayofseeingthingsand
Ihavetoexpressit. It’slikeanitch.”
Wetalkfor agesbut,unusually
foraninterviewwithachef, we
don’t have foodin frontofus:
azero-wasteoperationcan’t just
whipupdishesatthewhimof a
journalist–andtheconversationis
aboutso muchmorethanfood.A
saresult,Ihave to come
backto experience
thewholething.In the
evening,therestaurantis
full.Thecrowdis mixed,
butskewstowardswell-
heeledbohemiansseeking
apropernightout.
Themealconsistsof astandard
setmenuat £50.Itisneither
vegetariannorveganbydesign
butoftenturnsoutthatway. The
menuis projectedontheend
wallof thediningroom,within
theghostof anoldarchin the
brickwork.Theeffect is cinematic.
Firstis asliceof mushroomstem,
lightly cross-hatchedandcured
likeagreyishscallopanddressed
withoilandapheasantglaze.Thedressingbrings flavour,the
mushroomtextureand,though
it’sgoneinasinglebite,it lives
longonthetongue.It is refined,
self-assuredcooking,andyouneed
to remindyourselfthatit wasbuilt
fromoffcuts.
Nextupisabrowncrab
emulsion,againpointedlyfeaturing
theportionofthecrabmeat
customarilydiscardedinupscale
cookery.Itisdark,bassyandfunky,
silk-smoothandcounterpointed
cleverlywithfermentedrhubarb–
allsharpsournessandbright
colour. There’spooling,green
peashoyu,dressingaquarterof a
gemlettucethat’sbeenbrinedfor
three hours.Betweensomeof the
ingredientslurklittle domesof
lemongel.“Wewouldn’t usually
uselemons,” theserverconfides,
“but thebardownstairswas
chuckingouttonsof squeezed-out
lemonskins.”
AsingleJerusalemartichoke,
peeledandpoachedinalow-
temperaturebrine,isservedwith
theskinfermentedintoadelicate
littlekimchiwithahomeopathic
quantity of chilli andrestingin a
poolofbrownbutter andtamari–
the“angel’sshare”liquidskimmed
fromthetopof therestaurant’s
ownmiso.
Themisoismadefromoffcuts
andcrusts of therestaurant’sown
in-housebread(7 percentsalt,7
percentkoji;soakedthenleft for
threemonths)andappearsinthe
next courseunderasmokedfir
apple potato toppedwithslices
of redappleandsurroundedbya
sauce of whey, fromcheesemaking,
reducedtoa50th.
There’s acoherencetothe
thinkingbehindeverycourse
andthenarrativetheypresentinFT.COM/MAGAZINEMARCH 7/82020