You could say that Camille Maillard got me into medical school. He also helped to get me through it. Disregard the fact that he was born over 100 years before me, in France, and died alone while on a jury in Paris in 1936. While I adore the other Frenchman of his time notably Debussy, Ravel and Saint-Saens who certainly provided sexier and more impassioned contributions to society, Camille Maillard’s work brought me to the laboratory and taught me the importance of diligence, mentorship and hard work.
Camille Maillard penned the Maillard reaction, the long chain of reactions between an amino acid or protein and a sugar. The chain reaction results in browning and formation of complex chemical compounds called advanced glycation end products. While this all seems drab and dreary, in fact the Maillard reaction is an important player in both food and medicine.
The Maillard reaction explains why a chicken turns brown and delicious when you slather it with maple syrup or honey and bake it (although this is also due to caramelization which is a different chemical process). The reaction also has important implications in diseases such as diabetes. When we measure the hemoglobin A1C to keep track of how well somebody controls their diabetes, we measure an end-product of the Maillard reaction. Much of the end organ damage in diabetes can be contributed to excess glucose reacting with proteins in the microvasculature.
My work with the Maillard reaction involved test tubes—lots of them. There were enough test tubes full of solutions in varying shades of brown, champagne and yellowish beige to swear off of test tubes for life after I finished college. The research was repetitive and I don’t think I was very good at it. The experience wasn’t apparently life-changing.
What made my research exceptional was my wonderful mentor. He treated me as a peer, worked with me in the lab, and even washed my test tubes (which is so SO embarrassing…I’m sorry Roger!) I felt encouraged to keep going, to keep track of my work, and I to write that damn thesis. Hey Rog, will you make me write my medical school one too? When I started slacking he gently suggested getting back on it, and when I was really lazy he got mad and I deserved it. When I wanted to play piano for a term instead of do lab work, he let me, and when it was time to give a 20 minute presentation on my research, he stayed late repeatedly and made me practice.
I always knew I was lucky to have such a dedicated teacher. While I’ve had plenty of guidance and support in medical school, there’s nothing that even broaches the level of professional companionship of my undergraduate education. As I soon find out where I will spend the next four years of intensive training, I can only hope to have mentors that care not only about the work that I do, but about the beliefs, values and interests I have. I wish for everybody reading to have somebody a few years ahead to pick you up, guide you through, and seriously hurt you if you start acting like an idiot.
The following recipe is more complicated and time consuming than the average one that I post, but the result is spectacularly beautiful and delicious. It embodies the maple syrupy spiciness of New England (where I went to college) and it utilizes Dr. Maillard’s work with an overnight sugary marinade to promote slow browning before the meat is baked. It is a meal unto itself, and should be used for a celebration of someone special. The recipe ideally takes two days, so plan ahead! If you don’t eat pork, you could always use chicken breasts, just make mini-rolls applying similar principles.
