Madison Cowan: the Hendrix of food is now on the scene

By David Robledo

For South Texas Nation magazine



Cowan  http://www.facebook.com/MadisonCowan

Tall, dark, and lean, Madison Cowan is the Hendrix of  food, an alchemist of sorts who transmutes soul through food much like Jimmy Hendrix communed with the universe through his guitar. 
  The depth of Madison's speech coupled with his physical prowess might also remind you of Muhammad Ali. His relaxed British accent that hardly meets a consonant speaks authoritatively from another world, and food's the portal. 

   Madison, restaurateur and author of Soul Voyage, insists almost feverishly that he cooks "soul food."  Not fried chicken and waffles (though he says no dish or ingredient should ever be ruled out), but food that draws inspiration from stints in four star kitchens and character from time that he spent in the U.S. military, and then, in the usual order, homeless on two continents.

   For Madison, taller than six feet and quick like a panther, soul food is a rock-salt and frozen-vodka watermelon basil salad which he refers to as "wicked," or a knockworst and sweet potato satay which he describes as "proper".

   His creations consistently floored Chopped's foodie icon judges -- restaurateur Mark Murphy, chef-star Amanda Freitag, and new-Italian authority Scott Conant -- during the show's finale, aired Tuesday, May 24.

   Like a black and agile E.F. Hutton, when Madison talks about his food, judges hang on every word. Through the show's four rounds of elimination, Madison's food is only able to inspire judges. His work remains virtually impervious to criticism other than Murphy's whimsical "too many prunes on my plate" critique. Slightly pudgy and with the over-partied look of a privileged, third-generation Jersey mobster, Murphy might have benefited greatly from eating the eight prunes Madison served him.    
   "You sing with your soul, you make love with your soul. You definitely must cook with your soul," Madison lectured the judges as they nodded, making sure to throw in a gratuitous sex and food correlation.

   Explaining that "99 percent" of his food is "connected with women," Madison is fond of reminding his public that the food that he cooks from the soul can in fact be used to convey emotion to women, or convey emotion about women.

   Everything Madison says and does seems larger than life, as if he's keyed into a world of food essences through which he's able to transmute soul.
   Despite his ability to flavorfully execute the talk, he notes that "It's what you do, not what you say," that's important, advice he hopes to demonstrate to his daughter with his performance on Chopped.         

   Madison defeated three chefs to win the competition, including a former working associate with Anthony Bourdain whom Bourdain characterized as an "evil Energizer Bunny," and a self-professed Christian chef whose cottage cheese-orange-juice ice cream and beignet dessert riveted and titillated judges.
   Though Madison has created a Facebook page hoping to persuade the Food Network to give him his own show as a celebrity chef, we desperately hope that, instead, Madison is simply given time to cook without the shallow, distracting pressures and demands of production deadlines. Like Jimmy's experimental, self-recorded eight-tracks laid down before his career took off, what Madison does for the sake of food itself could in the end define any greatness he might achieve. +

Source: Chopped's final episode at  http://www.hulu.com/watch/230491/chopped-crunch-time#s-p1-so-i0