We cover things we're into and think you might be, too. If you purchase through an external link here, goop may earn a commission.
Photo courtesy of Golden Door
Greg Frey Jr. handed me a few leaves of chocolate mint and instructed me to rub them between my hands, cup them around my nose, and inhale. The scent was so bracing it seemed to go straight to my sinuses. “Remember the York Peppermint Patty commercial?” he asked. We were standing in one of the Golden Door’s gardens, where the executive chef and culinary director was introducing me to the ingredients behind the meals. This particular mint, he explained, had inspired that day’s cookies.
There was quite a lot to taste before lunch. A leaf of Spanish tarragon released a burst of fennel-like flavor when I bit into it. Salad burnet, which Frey called “the gobstopper of herbs,” tasted first of melon, then cucumber. Earlier, he had plucked lemon verbena and had me rub the leaves between my palms as though I were washing my hands. The intense citrus fragrance reminded me of a visit to a rose farm in the south of France, where I’d been encouraged to do exactly the same thing. I could understand the appeal of wearing it as perfume.
Across seven acres of gardens at the Southern California retreat, the ingredients for meals were growing alongside plants that helped them thrive. Bronze fennel edged the vegetable beds, providing a home for ladybugs; cilantro grew among the tomatoes. Hummingbirds visited the flowers. Mint had become so exuberant that I asked how the kitchen could possibly use it all. It couldn’t, Frey admitted. He showed me the arugula that had been served at dinner the previous evening, then pointed out where the roses in the salad had grown, just beyond the fence. Even the flowers on the plate had an address.
Photo courtesy of Golden Door
Translating that abundance into something manageable for the rest of us is the premise of his new cookbook, The Golden Door Table. Frey has adapted the retreat’s recipes for home kitchens with a clear understanding of the circumstances. “Nobody has eight hours like we do, or a team of people,” he told me.
The two recipes below make particularly persuasive cases for lunch. In a farro and garbanzo salad, feta breaks down as you toss it through the vegetables, creating a creamy coating sharpened by vinegar and fresh basil and parsley. The mixture improves as it sits; the romaine goes in at the end to keep its crunch. His garbanzo burritos get their character from chorizo spices and can accommodate whatever leftover vegetables you have in the refrigerator.
This is a man who understands that wanting to eat beautifully and wanting to spend your entire day making dinner are two separate things—and for that, I, for one, am very grateful.
Photos courtesy of Golden Door
