A RETURN TO CRAFTSMANSHIP

Way back in the 50's, when I was a mere tot, my mom would take me with her to run errands. Often we'd stop in at our local shoe repair shop, the most heavenly-smelling place on earth, run by a wizened little man with hunched shoulders and dye-stained fingers. A few doors down was a watch repairman. Beyond that was a wonderful little bakery, and down towards the end was the fabric store. We went there almost weekly, as did most of the ladies we knew, for a woman who couldn't sew was the exception back then, rather than the rule. The most memorable place Mom ever took me was downtown to her favorite millinery shop, where you could order a custom-made hat, or get the supplies to refurbish one of your old ones. The people that ran these shops were my role models. My idols. All I wanted in the world was to be just like them - to make or do something with my own two hands, and be the best I could possibly be at it. And, at that time, no one laughed at me when I told them this. But then the world changed.

Somewhere along the way, making money became much more important than making something well. In fact, many businesses figured out how to do away with products altogether, and managed to make millions just by moving money around. Consumers no longer cared how well-made something was, or even how it tasted, as long as it was cheap and they got lots of it. Millinery shops and repairmen disappeared altogether (why bother to repair or refurbish something, when buying a brand new one is so darned cheap?), and if Little Johnny were to tell his parents that he wanted to be a baker when he grew up, he'd surely see a look of horror on their faces. "The hell you say!", Dad would reply. "I haven't slaved away all these years just so my son can be a baker. You're going to Harvard and get an MBA! You're going to be somebody." It made me so very sad. I missed those craftsmen, and their wonderful little shops. I missed seeing people take pride in creating something real with their own two hands. Something tangible.

A couple of days ago I picked up the latest issue of Edible Austin, and you know what? It got me to thinkin'. First I read an article about young Ben Runkle, owner of Salt & Time Artisanal Salumi. Mr. Runkle has spent the last several years doing unpaid internships on farms and in restaurants, just so he can learn the art of butchering, and study the old-world, artisanal methods of curing meats. Reading about him made me smile. Then there was an article about Executive Chef Rene Ortiz, who left the culinary fast lane in NY to lead a different kind of life here in Austin - one where he can be a chef-dad who actually spends time with his kids. One where he can pass on his gifts and the skills he has been taught. One where he might establish a non-profit in East Austin that will teach culinary skills to at-risk kids from the neighborhood. My smile grew even bigger as I read this.

Then I got to thinkin' about all the other articles I've read recently, about young men and women who are chucking their engineering and law careers in order to learn farming or cheese-making or spirit-crafting. I was reminded of the young couple who opened that wonderful little cheese shop we just discovered, and the ladies we met at the Stitch Lab, and before I knew it, I was grinning my head off. Know what I'm thinking now? I'm thinking the tide has finally changed, and it's bringing a flood of pride and respect for craftsmen and women in with it!

P.S. Many thanks to eatdrinkbetter.com for the salumi basket image.