By Elaine Giammetta 

When musicians pick up an instrument to create music, they are transported to a world that most non-musicians usually can't identify with or grasp. The composition flows from their soul, an extension of who they are, the notes telling us a story. We can capture that story on a CD and immerse ourselves into the musician's world whenever we choose. 

A chef and a musician are similar artistic creatures, each creating a masterpiece that portrays their essence. Unlike the musician, a chef's creation cannot be captured for posterity to replay whenever the mood strikes. Their composition, the recipe and photographs are the only tangible evidence of what was a scintillating culinary experience, along with the smells and tastes that are committed to our memory.

Like the musicians, chefs must practice, honing their skills and achieving levels of perfection to create edible masterpieces. They have a vast array of instruments to choose from to assist them in creating their art on a plate. One such instrument is the mandoline, not to be confused with the stringed musical instrument, mandolin. You might think that the similarity between these two things ends with its pronunciation and spelling, but that assumption would be incorrect. 

A mandolin must be balanced, with each string tuned to perfection.  It must be handled delicately to make it sing as the maker meant it. Not all compositions are meant to be played on it and the score must be chosen wisely. 

The mandoline is no less demanding. Its extremely sharp blades will not "sing" properly if the musician/chef doesn't know how to strum it correctly. There is an art to using this kitchen instrument, for instance... how much pressure to apply as you glide the fruit or vegetable down its sloping surface to create delicate slices. I never realized or appreciated the touch of a professional chef until I began to learn how to use this tool myself.  Keep in mind there is also the danger of injury if you are not careful. With this instrument you will not develop calluses on the tips of your fingers; rather you could lose them instead! The blade guard is there for a reason. 

My goal was to create pineapple carpaccio and I the fruit needed to be paper thin. I've learned, through trial and error, that the density of the fruit or vegetable is integral to achieve sliced perfection. Just as the musician must have the right pick for the type of strings on his instrument in order for the sound to be correct. Pineapple was a perfect first choice to begin my first fruit lesson. You can see the results of my efforts in the picture below and get the recipe inthis month's EP Recipe.

I began preparing the fruit, trimming the outer layer and making sure all the eyes were removed. I then cut the pineapple into thirds so I could easily attach it to the plunger handle. Now I was ready to begin strumming. After the first few strokes I realized that my rhythm was off. I was stopping my downward strum too early, leaving wedges hanging on the ends of the delicate slices.  As with any instrument, I made a few adjustments to my rhythm and soon enough I was rewarded with a pile of sweet paper-thin pineapple slices.  I soon discovered that there are perks with using this tool as the sugary sweet aroma began to permeate the kitchen. We are one up on the musicians as they can't savor their composition through their nose! 

I continued practicing until I had the amount I needed to create my carpaccio and set aside my new instrument. After creating my art on the plate I carefully cleaned and put my instrument away. I think the next time I practice; I'll put on some Puccini and sing while I play my mandoline. Who knows, perhaps I should make a video so I can enjoy my composition whenever the mood strikes.

As printed originally in edible Hawaiian Islands No. 9 Summer 2009