Inside the Kitchen: Seven Questions with Tyler Akin of Bastia

A bowl of shaved noodles in a very spicy Sichuan-style beef stew with a lot of chili oil and pickled mustard greens.

My grandmother had very little but she made it feel abundant at the meals she served us in Baltimore, from when I was a baby up until I was 23. She was Southern, from Roanoke, Virginia. Cornbread was the centerpiece. There would be ham, steaks, fried chicken, and ‘grammy beans’—she’d cook down green beans with ham hocks and that will likely make it onto my future tasting menu. She made macaroni salad with a mayo dressing and a brunoises of celery, carrots, and onion, but she didn’t call it a brunoises. I learned about cooking from her through osmosis. I’ve recreated her dishes through taste. She cooked the way I do at home, by instinct and not recipes.

Fine dining is more of a feeling than a set of criteria. I think of the trappings of fine dining, with the bespoke ceramics and linens and servers dressed up, but my kind of fine dining is more casual. I love restaurants that are barely restaurants like Les Enfants du Marché in Paris with its chalkboard menu, and Rosetta in Mexico City where I had lunch in their streetery when it was 100 degrees—and those moments felt finer than a lot of places I’ve eaten. They’re about attention to detail when it comes to service and food that is precise and consistent.

For Bastia, I’d love Michelin recognition and a Beard Award. I’d like it to become an institution in this city that will still be here in 15 years, while feeling relevant and exciting.

Good ingredients with minimal intervention. We’re not using a lot of progressive cooking techniques here. We’re making food look natural on the plate, removing components as opposed to adding them. Leaning on others and finding space for collaboration across the menu.