Some Kitchen Sketches

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chef's Table, August 30th, 2013

 

Chef’s Table,

August 30^th, 2013

 

Amuse Bouche

Popcorn Soup, Caramel Foam

Simple soup base.  Onion & garlic sweated, deglaze white wine.  Redux. Half water/half cream.  A few yukon gold potatoes.  Pureed fine and popcorn dust added to desired thickness.  Reseason.  Acidity fixed with lime juice.  Heat from tabasco. 

1^st Course

Oysters & Truffle Glacage, Cabernet Salt

 

Fresh East Coast oysters, bed of red wine tinted Maldon salt & calendula flower petals.  Glacage is a mornay containing egg yolk & black truffle.  Broiled until sexy.

2^nd Course

Lobster & Carrot Ravioli, Beet, Carrot Butter

 

Each ravioli contains Korean chili bean paste, carrot puree, a half a lobster, salt, pepper & butter.  Carrot butter is redux of carrot juice, white wine & aromatics (fennel seed, peppercorn, lemongrass, saffron, ginger, chili flake, bay leaf & coriander), splash of cream, light thicken with cornstarch & then mounted butter.  Acidity from sherry vinegar, heat from tabasco, a few drops of truffle oil.  Beets raw & marinated with sherry vinegar and extra virgin olive oil.  Chives barely bound together with extra virgin.

3^rd Course

Petite Filet of Beef, Sweet Potato, Watercress Hollandaise & Port Wine Jus

 

Seared 4 oz tied beef filet, rested in duck fat kept at 120*F.  Sweet potato gratin is paper thin shaved sweet potato, nutmeg, salt, white pepper, heavy cream and grana padano cheese.  300*F oven, waterbath, pressed down with a fish spatula every 15 minutes as it cooks.  Pressed overnight before cutting.  Watercress hollandaise is three egg yolks, 1 bunch of watercress in a blender to which hot melted butter is emulsified.  Salt, sherry vinegar & tabasco to taste.  Star anise & port wine demi contains red wine, port wine, coriander, orange zest, star anise, bay leaf and thyme reduced until sauce ready and then finished with demi, cream, and a touch of sherry vinegar.  Strained though a chinnoise.  Cauliflower caramelized in clarified butter.  Salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste.  Watercress lightly dressed.  Pate choux garnish.  Piped through a #3 round tip onto a silpat, 300*F oven, low fan until designs begin to lift and color.  

4^th Course

Orange Sorbet

 

Purple Door ice cream (currently do not own an ice cream machine), blueberries tossed in orange simple syrup, candied orange zest.

5^th Course

Artisan Cheeses, Fig & Honey

 

House made ricotta & black pepper, Californian camembert & Wisconsinite bleu cheese.  Honeycomb, fig syrup to finish (not shown on pic.)

Dessert

Key Lime & White Chocolate Cheesecake

 

Charred citrus salad, white chocolate ganache, lime syrup & candied orange zest, raspberry gelee.  Gelee is one cup puree to four sheets of gelatin.  Mixed in a quart container with a meat fork after set for "gem-like" presentation.  Addition of choux garnish.  Crust is gingersnap.

Chef Talk with Kyle Cherek - Robert Druschitz / Interview

Arizona Stories, Kitchen Idiocy

You ever see a guy walk through a kitchen with an 8" chef knife wrapped around his apron strings jogging through a hotel kitchen?  Mind you, the blade wasn't covered.  I have.



Have you ever seen two line cooks kiddingly box on the hot line until one of them accidentally stabs the other with a plugged in mini stick blender?  I have and yes, it did turn on.  I couldn't stop laughing either, even though a slight bit of blood was spilled.



Ever see a prep cook decide that sanitation buckets were the best thing to store raw chicken bones in for stock?



How about watched a cook get pissed off at another cook so much that they sabotaged the other guy's chicken stock with a pineapple & a handful of tumeric so they'd get yelled at by the Executive Chef?

Seen someone add sugar to another cook's salt?

Watched a saucier throw all of another cook's prep onto the ground because they decided to work on their prep table? 

Accidently emptied a faulty fryer full of oil onto the floor?  That was me by the way.

Also erroneously posted that Paul Bocuse had passed a way yesterday?   Me as well.  This link should clear that up.  http://ph.omg.yahoo.com/news/dont-believe-twitter-rumors-french-chef -paul-bocuse-110602928.html  The rumors aren't true.  I did try to confirm yesterday evening and found that Wikipedia even showed him as deceased.  My apologies to any who believed this because I reposted this.

Never a dull moment, eh?

Kitchen slang/phrases

It's been said I should write something on this topic, since I've been considered an expert on this catagory.  If this were ever a topic on Jeopardy! I'd probably take home some mad cash.  Especially if there was one of those daily double things there.  That'd be sweet.

"Get the cigar"   - roughly translated, getting chewed out by the Chef or Sous.  Not used as commonly as it used to be.  In a sentence, "Ben just burned that lobster bisque, he's gonna get the cigar for sure."

"Magic dust, Japanese magic dust, glue, meat glue"  - terms for transglutaminase, an enzyme that sticks meat to... well, other meat or similar protein.  Often snuck into culinary competitions years ago before most molecular hackstronomists started using it willy-nilly on anything and everything.  Heard rumors that it was being used in some diet pills to bind with loose proteins in the body and allowing them to be... well, um, passed.  Currently considered safe to eat, I would think that in excess it's prolly not too good for you.  Lobster corndogs in Chitown often contain magic dust.  Not PCP.

"In the weeds", "Lost" or "Sinking"  - term for a cook who can't keep up with the orders coming in.  Horrible feeling, often precludes getting the cigar or being 86'd.  Most often heard on Fridays, Saturdays, New Year's, Mother's Day, Valentine's Day, etc...  The times most kitchens are packed beyond their means.

"86 or 86'd" - to run out of something or to take it off the menu... not usually a good thing.  Happens too much to you, and the chef will 86 you from the kitchen (meaning you've been fired). 

"Swimming" - not sinking.  A new cook who's swimming is keeping up for the most part.

"Rockstar" - a particularly good cook.  Rockstars are always swimming and never in the weeds.  Could also refer to a chef that used to be in a rock band.  Dirk Flanigan (The Gage, Henri) was sometimes in the industrial band, Pigface.  Thus, Flanigan is a rockstar twice.  Or something.

"Behind, Atras, Hot, Chaud, Watch your huevos, or anything similar..." - get out of my way.  Now, or face possible consequences.  My favorite is saying, "I'm not stopping," while playing chicken with someone that's in the way.

"Ordering! (followed by menu item or ticket number)"  - get this ready, now.

"Firing! (followed by menu item or ticket number)" - put the food that was ordered in the window now.  In good restaurants the cooks will call out in response to orders and fires with a time or acknowledgement.

"The Tank or Pit" - dish area.

"Meat Grinder" - a kitchen that turns through cooks like most people use tissues.  Usually when the Chef is intense or the pace of the kitchen is harsh (or the checks bounce).

"Sergeant's stripes" - burns one gets on their body, betraying their existence as a cook or chef.  A lady once stopped me at a bookstore and tried to get me to join a recovery group for heroin addicts after seeing my burns and thinking wrongly that they were track marks.  Needless to say, I was unenthused by her mistake and told her I was a broiler cook. 

"Put a bird on it..." - this one's just a reference to the tv show, Portlandia.  Check it out.  Funny show.  For a week I was telling cooks "put a bird on it.  Now it's ready." Priceless.

"Piano" - the stove you cook on.  Some chefs can't stand when you put plates on the piano, or don't clean it often enough.

"Whites" - your uniform.  Even when black or a different color, referred to as whites. 

"Pitbull" - a particularly mean chef or sous.  "That Bob jerk is a real pitbull, man.  I was sinking last night and he gave me the cigar."  Some chefs keep a pitbull in their kitchen to keep the other cooks in line so they don't have to yell themselves.   

"Salamis for hands..." - a person who's all thumbs.  Most often used in Italian kitchens.  I guess if you had galantines for hands you might be French.

"Sally" - term used to describe a salamander or broiler.  Often used to hurry orders, but sometimes to the order's detriment. 

"Meez (or Plass)" - short for the French term "mise en place", or "everything in its place."  The zen-like term of setting up one's station.  If your station's completely set, there's nothing that can stop you.  But the second you f*#k your Meez, you're in the weeds, Rockstar.

"Guy, sweetie, honey, etc..." - in kitchens that are meatgrinders, it's hard to remember everyone's name, guy.  "Hey guy!  Get over here!"

"Shoemaker (or mercenary)" - a person who's only expected to do the minimum amount of work, but generally doesn't cost too much to employ.  Strength in numbers?  aka- a hack.

"Shoe leather" - well done steaks or such.  Suburbanites are known for eating shoe leather on occasion.

"Meat coming out of their ears..." - in reference to a meathead.  So meatheaded it's coming outta their ears, guy.

"Beginner's night, Amateur hour, (or something similar)" - a night that anyone who really enjoys eating well avoids... as in any really busy night were a kitchen might be compromised or stressed keeping them from getting food out to you in the way the chef meant, ie. hot and tasty and on time.  Valentine's Day is a beginner's night, as any self respecting gastronaut should not looking for culinary epiphany then.  Also used in reference to St. Patrick's Day when talking about drinking, or 4/20 to those other folk. 

Another memorable quote from a Sous named Joe on his way walking out from a restaurant in Winnetka was, while carrying a sack of his stuff, "I wish this was a bag of d*!ks for *insert name here* to suck!"
Any other slang I'm missing?  Feel free to comment, there might be a sequel to this topic but for now, signing out, guy.

Ways I've seen people eff up lobster (an ode to B & Szaboo!)



I had a bit of inspiration this morning from a facebook post an old friend that cooked with me at Le Francais & Rhapsody put up last night.  He posted something about how his cooks accidentally condensed a container of lobster bisque he'd painstakingly taken the time to show them to make into a container of tomato soup, thus ruining the end product.  He made it sound like he was about to go Hell's Kitchen all over their respective, collective cocinero buttocks. 

B, take it easy on the guys.  Breathe in, exhale.  You burned five gallons of it once and we both got reamed.  You also liked to hide lobster knuckles in the walk in so you wouldn't have to clean 'em for the meat.  Hell, even though I wanted to kill you then, it's just soup and sea bugs.  Tasty, buttery, MFing sea bugs. *Drool*

BTW, B, as you read this I want to share a story about another chef I saw destroy lobster, to the tune of over $4,000 in crustacean claw, body, knuckle meat and various liquor/mise en place.  While working at a high end caterer in this lovely city of Chicago a few years ago, I had the opportunity to work with a Danzig-loving Chef de Cuisine I'll refer to as "Szaboo!".  Humor me here, if you know him, you'll get the joke.

The *first* time he commited langoustine genocide, Szaboo! was trying to find a way to use all the remaining lobster pieces after a weekend where 2 large parties just had entrees with tail meat.  So we had lexons full of knuckle, claw & carcass that needed to be used, and he didn't feel like cleaning the meat (sound familiar, B?).  He decides he's going to make bisque, and starts with lobster stock in one huge batch, in the largest steamkettle I've ever worked with (I had to stand on a milk crate to look in, no joke).  The only issue is, he decides he's going to let it COOK ALL NIGHT and then strain it in the morning.  ("It's okay, Bob, I've done it before and it's turned out great.")  Even though I warned him away, the Executive Chef was unreachable at that time, and he proceeded to go with his plan.

In case you don't know why this is a bad idea, you just need to know one simple thing.

The longer you simmer lobster shells (especially the claw) the more iodine from the carcass leaks into the liquid base.

The kitchen smelled like tainted shellfish the minute I walked in to open shop, and the stock was the first thing I checked on.  It was dark.  It looked like fava bean cooking water.  I tasted it and practically vomited. 

Now, Szaboo! worked for some good restaurants, don't get me wrong.  He was no novice.  He'd worked at Mary Elaine's at the Phoenican, The French Laundry, & Trio to name a few.  Szaboo! was a conundrum wrapped in an enigma.  He also tried to blame me for the incident.  I'd e-mailed the proper managers prior to this however, as I didn't want any part of these shenanagins in the first place.  He got chewed way worse than me and B did a decade prior.

Why he did something similar a few weeks later, I still cannot fathom.  Szaboo! was one in million.  Hell, he even managed to poison himself with sterno once in someone's garage while cooking off site.  The second time, the stock was fine (in a similar batch size), but he burnt the flavor base he was making for the bisque.

He killed a megaton of mirepoix, fennel, tomato paste, a few CASES of sherry, pernod (not cheap), and brandy.  He didn't bother to deglaze in batches.  It looked like the Gate to Hell had opened up in a tilt skillet.  I still don't think the Ansel fire suppression system was working right, because it should've been triggered.  He scorched the bejesus out of the machine.  I think a small part of me died that day, because he still added it to the lobster stock.

He still added it to the lobster stock.

Wait, did I tell you he still added it to the lobster stock?

So B, just realize, it could always get worse.  I owe you a beer sometime, just tell me when you're free.

My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 6

This book both comforts & kills in the same breath.  While a fascinating read, it almost gives away too much detail when it comes to cooking, which contrary to popular belief is quite simple.  And after understanding the basics of food science, even a beginner has ammunition against the old guard.  That is if they keep from making simple mistakes.  But that's the issue with On Food & Cooking.  Knowing the "why's" lets the novice feel more comfortable and dispels some of the mystery.  Couple this with any detail focused fine dining cookbook, and it becomes easy copy a master. 

That might be the issue with the latest generation of cooks.  Books like this let them learn too much too fast.  There's something to be said about paying your dues.

My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 4.5

I kinda plugged Foie Gras, A Passion the other day.  So more accurately this is My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 4.5.  To anyone who knows me well, they'd know I'm doing more sausage work than I've done recently, especially with dried salumis and their ilk.  With way more of an Italian focus than before.  So I started picking up a few of my older cookbooks, began blowing off the dust, and rereading them for technique & details I may've forgotten.  It's been fun.  So today I'm reviewing, Great Sausages and Meat Curing, by Rytek Kutas.

This book reads more like a person's trade notebook than a cookbook.  In fact, the author self published it originally in 1976.  As you read the book you'll realize that Rytek liked to do everything himself.  Seems like he could've given MacGuyver a run for his money after seeing how he shows different ways to jury rig home & professional smokers.  Almost every detail needed to set up an independent sausage shop is within it's pages.

Criticisms I've heard and respected make the case that Rytek didn't know much or at least detail specific ethnic sausages well.  His soppresata wouldn't match the ones from Italy for instance.  He also was a huge fan of dried spices and was phasing out any nondried, nonmeat ingredients out of sheer fear of contamination, when if treated professionally should not be an issue.  I can both agree and disagree depending upon who you're selling to and in what quantities.



One of the best things about his book is that he scales out his recipes for both 10 & 25 pound batches in the same page, making it easy for conversion.  He also gives the best ways to safely and hygenically make sausage both for production and the home.  If you want rediscover some of these techniques, and delve into Instacures and casings, I highly recommend this book.  It's a great way to get a foot in the door.

Favorite Ingredients, Foie Gras

A breakfast of foie gras, poached egg, potatoes lyonnaise, fresh tomatoes & roaring forties blue cheese

I love foie gras.  I love to cook it.  I love to eat it.  When I first started cooking with foie, it had a certain sexy mystique about it.  When your chef portions the liver and forbids others from cleaning it, or perhaps only one cook is allowed to cook it on the hot line, there's something to be said about learning to cook with it as a whole.  A need to prove oneself.   Chicago banned it for a brief period of time.  There are still people that think it's illegal here now and I think that's sad.  Because no matter what PETA thinks, it's still more humane than the way we treat chickens, cattle, and even our labor in this great country.

The book to read about foie when I started cooking was Foie Gras, A Passion, by Michael A. Ginor.

This book contained a veritable who's who of chefs (including Charlie Trotter who lambasts the gras now) and was the most exciting thing to pass around at Le Francais as we talked of preparations we cooks had experienced cooking at other restaurants or had eaten with our meager paychecks on the rare night out.  I remember talking with a friend for about a half hour on the best way to stuff figs with the liver while breaking down the line.  Good times.

Since then, my experience with the product has grown immensely, yet as of late, haven't had the opportunity to deal with it on a regular schedule.  When I was catering, we sold it often on a large scale, the record being fifteen 2 pound lobes brought in for a party of 550, to be broken down into torchon.  That was fun, and a few of our interns actually got some hands on time while it was still banned.  Chicago doesn't always follow the law.  Heck, technically sous vide is illegal, but look at all the cryovacs & immersion circulators out there.  Kinda expensive paperweights, eh?

My favorite way to make torchon is a hybrid method, lightly cleaning, marinating/curing, and then free poaching in duck fat at 190 degrees for a few minutes, then wrapping and cooling like a free form sausage.  First with cheese cloth and then plastic wrap, and then after cooling, rewrapping after being rolled smooth on a warm surface.  I can control the size of the torchon that way, making logs the size of a saucer or as small as a quarter.  Almost perfectly round to boot.  There's little loss of fat (if done correctly) and the duck fat can be reused or utilized in another dish.  Makes some hella roasted potatoes.

Salt cured torchons deserve some mention.  Very little weight loss occurs, but it can come off as too salty if left in the cure too long.  Smaller torchons and overnight curing is the best route.

A whole lobe.  Sexy, ain't it?

As for sauteed foie, I've seen it done a bunch of different ways.  Some chefs flour it.  Some chefs don't.  Some chefs score it.  Other chefs don't.  Cooking from frozen, as much as a sin as it seems, works insanely well, and you tend to generate less waste.  This is good since the product is so damned expensive to begin with.  However, if you're busy enough, a nice thick piece of liver, vein removed, seared fresh is incredible.  Make sure you get deep color, and DO NOT BURN IT.  Nothing makes me more pissed off than paying for something so sacred... than to see it greasy and without color or burnt to inedibility.  Or for it to be too thin.  Or overcooked until it's rubbery. 

There are plenty of ways to use foie scraps that should be mentioned.  Foie gras is the closest thing we have to edible play doh.  At the right temperature you can mold or form it any which way but loose.  Fun to think about, easy to be creative.  When I have scraps the first thing I usually do is make foie butter.  3:1 unsalted butter to foie scrap passed through a sieve, butter first paddled in a mixer, and the scrap folded in.  Freeze or refrigerate until needed.  Outside of smearing it on bread, foie butter prepared properly does not curdle after being mounted into a sauce or nage.  Effing unbelievable mounted into even vegetable broths.

Foie scrap can also be saved for torchons, worked into strudels, sauteed as a salad special, whipped into mousses, made into crusts for meat or fish with cream cheese, egg & breadcrumb, smeared over your...  pardon me.  Anyways, good stuff.  Don't just throw it out.

 Smiley the Goose says, "I'm no corporate chicken!  I eat a lot more too!  PETA can shove it!  Quack!"

My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 3

James (Culinary Badass) Beards', American Cookery.  That's right, I'm busting out the Beard today.  Be warned.

James Beard is the reason why we should continue to read cookbooks.  American Cookery taught a bunch of us chefs that there was an American Cuisine out there and that we should take pride in it, polish it, and make a gem worthy of the world's notice.  Then climb the highest hill and scream that we should be paid attention to. 

His writing is extremely rich and descriptive, invoking spirits of hunger and tradition from the days before mass processing.  If it weren't for him, how much would've been lost?  Even now kids are less likely to learn traditional preservation and cooking methods from their family as the family just doesn't have one.  Fucking TV dinners and burger chains destroyed our food history.

Read Beard.  Cook the food.  Adapt his recipes.  And yell out to the void that we will continue to fight for our traditions!

Venison ham, anyone?

Italian Cooking Class Last Night

Last night I taught a three hour plus class on pastas, healthy eating, and Italian fare for a small class of eight.  I planned to have the students each make a batch of fresh pasta dough at the beginning of the session, and then make dinner from their efforts.  It was BYOB and Wine Discount Center is right across the street.  In other words, I'm glad it wasn't a knife skills demo.

Pasta Dough

3 c. "00" pasta flour
3-4 eggs, large
Pinch of salt
A little water or olive oil if dry. 

Mix dough by hand, knead for 5-8 minutes after dough forms.  Fix the consistency if needed.  Let sit 20 minutes or so covered before rolling.

I demonstrated linguine, papardelle, & ravioli.  After having everyone roll pasta though the machine a few times, I began delegating other tasks to start the dinner.  On group made the ravioli filling, simply half ricotta and half mascapone cheeses, chopped cooked spinach, nutmeg, extra virgin olive oil, salt & pepper.

While this was happening, I began showing them some simple sauces with the same fundemental base, toasted garlic slivers, chili flake, and white wine (a good pinot grigio).  One of the sauces (for the linguini), then added chicken stock, and after it cooked for a bit, finished it with chopped Italian parsley, black pepper & toasted almond.

The other sauce took the same garlic, wine, chili base and added crushed canned San Marzano tomatoes (a little sunshine in a can).  After it cooked a bit, fresh ground black pepper and a branch of basil sat in there a bit while it simmered.  I finished both with some really nice unfiltered, 1st cold pressed extra virgin olive oil.

While the sauces cooked, I had them throw together a simple salad of baby spinach, walnuts, pear, meyer lemon juice, and the same finishing olive oil.  Sea salt, fresh pepper, and a scattering of pepato cheese on top bought me some time to cook and plate their pastas. 

After that I snuck out some lemon sorbetti that I bought at Whole Foods by a company called Angelo Gelato out of Bensenville.  I've always liked this company, and we currently serve them at the restaurant to my pleasure.  I also brought some anise biscottini from Tenuta's in Kenosha to cap the meal. 

I believe good times were had by all who attended.

Cooking Classes at Ren Spa

I'll be a part of running some cooking classes at Ren Spa this Saturday from 6 pm-9 pm.  The theme will be Italian and I'd love to see some more people sign up.  If you're interested, give Patti a call at 312-415-5500 or shoot her an e-mail at pattinavilio@earthlink.net.  Or shoot me an e-mail at Bobdruschitz@gmail.com.  They're located in Chicago off of Elston Ave., right across the street from Wine Discount Center.   

I'm most likely going to have some fun demoing a few easy to make at home pastas & sauces, while doing my best to keep it as healthy as possible.  And knowing me, anything is possible.  Eating, drinking & having fun, right?

My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 1

This book is incredible.  As you can tell by the dog ear on the top right, it's well used.  Jean Georges Vongerichten pioneered the use of juices and flavored oils in fine dining, and overall helped to change French & American cooking as a whole.  He likes to use the same ingredient multiple times in the same dish, often just dealing with technique & textural differences to excite the palate.  The section on foie gras is also quite useful.  His time spent in Asia really helped add another facet to his cooking, and he could be blamed for the profusion of Asian Fusion into our scene. 

Whenever I hit an artist's block when coming up with a menu or special, I look to the cooler, the season, & Vongerichten.

Arizona Stories, The day I lost all my facial hair...

I ended up taking a lot of 3rd shift work at the resort during the end of my externship.  Part of my contract specified that if a manager got a hold of me personally or via phone and asked me to work a shift, that I couldn't decline... even if I'd already worked a 16 hour day.  I'm not saying that I hated this, but since the night shift had the most no-call-no-shows or other bullshit excuses, I often found myself working with little sleep and having to strain stocks at 4 in the morning.

The best part about night shift was the lack of supervision and the freedom to do things in any order I thought would be the most efficient.  I was always looking for ways to get done faster, especially if room service was picking up due to high occupancy.  The night shift person was responsible for staff meal for about 35 people, mainly security, night cleaners, and over night bakers/pastry cooks.  You had to strain and cool all stocks, prep anything the executive sous dropped onto your plate, handle room service, grind meat for the butcher, and set up breakfast for the 175 seat dining room. 

Breakfast prep for the dining room entailed breaking down a few cases of eggs for omelets, dicing and par-steaming potatoes, setting up bacon, sausage links, and patties, cooking steelcut Irish oatmeal, clarifying butter, and getting all of the ovens, flattops, etc. hot for morning service.

One morning I had gotten towards the end of my shift at 7 am, when I went to light the old school flattop on the line.  It was an old model, and the pilot was about eight inches to a foot under the griddle.  You'd light a wooden skewer to light the pilot, and turn the gas to light the damned thing.  This morning was different.  As I got on my knees and lit the skewer, I reached under the griddle and triggered and enormous blast of flame that engulfed my head briefly.  I immediately shut my eyes and hit the ground.

Apparently, one of the nightcleaners had used the stove as a ladder to reach the hoods earlier that morning and had turned the gas on slightly with their boot, much to my dismay.  I lost a few eyelashes, curled my eyebrows, and burnt off part of my sideburns.  To this day I have difficulty growing hair where my ears meet my beard.  I also looked sunburnt for about a week. 

So the first cook comes in, an old asian dude that rocked the omelet station as if he was twenty years younger.  With one look at me, all he says is,

"That's why I don't light the pilot anymore."

Go figure.  Now I always let someone else deal with pilots and gas first until I'm comfortable with the machine or conduit in question.  I saw a chef friend of mine once light an easy release hose on his fryer on an open burner by accident on his line.  He set his sleeve on fire and it looked like a flame thrower until the grill cook closed the release valve.  Scary, scary stuff to see.

Arizona Stories, Best Kitchen Mispelling

Manually keyed into Micros by a server for a special:

Frog Raaaaa!

At the time, I didn't get it until I said it out loud.  For the longest time I had the ticket taped to an old notebook, now missing.

Arizona Stories, Sammy the Grill Cook

Sammy was awesome.  I first learned a busy grill station from him as an intern in Phoenix and he was quite the character.  He originally moved to Arizona from Texas after getting into some gang problems in Dallas.  He was shot a few times in the knee and ended up getting his right leg amputated.  You wouldn't know it except for his limp, and it wasn't the first thing he'd run up and tell you.  This led to some interesting stories... mainly because Sammy had a warped sense of humor.

He used to play box with the saute cook, Kenneth.  Kenny used to draw pictures of Sammy in permanent marker on the line, and repeatedly hit it with things while muttering, "Can you feel that?!  Can you feel that Sammy?"  I had to work the middle and set up plates for them during service when I first started, which honed my trash talk a lot better than my cooking skills for a brief period of time.

One day Sammy decided to play box with a newer cook, and the two of them were having a great time.  It was the beginning of our shift, and the newer cook hadn't buttoned his jacket up all the way yet.  Sammy grabbed a small Braun stick blender from a bain marie and started to "fence" with it.  It was still plugged in, and tore into the skin on the new cook's chest.  While it wasn't a deep cut, the new cook looked down with disbelief before he was rushed off to emergency care.  Neither were fired, but Chef J had an hour long reprimand waiting for them both about goofing off at work.

Now, in Phoenix, the bars close super early in comparison to Chicago, so it leads to more and more house parties & socialization after work.  At one party, Sammy had been drinking quite heavily, and was getting more and more angry at a rich girl that wouldn't stop talking about all of the skiing equipment she'd just bought and how great of a time she was going to have in Colorado when the snow fell.  She was sitting next to him on the couch, when he hopped up, threw off his leg, and stated drunkenly...

"I'll never hit the damned slopes again!"

He then proceeded to hop to the kitchen to pour another rum & coke.  His "friend" screamed and ran out of the party, proceeding to ditch her boyfriend taking the only car.  He was about to start a fight with Sammy until our friends broke them up, and some samaritan gave the unhappy man a ride home. 

I couldn't stop laughing.

Le Francais Stories, My Petit Lapin

I worked with a young Frenchman at Le Francais some time ago, who was aggressive and more than a wee bit sinister.  (From here on in I'll refer to him as Lapin.)  Lapin was the textbook saucier.  Not quite Sous Chef material, with a good deal of potential, but not without some deep character flaws that would keep him from ever going too high in the Chicago dining scene.

One of those was his being violent.

A newer fish cook, young, blonde and female was a frequent target of his douchiness (in France, also known as "showeriness").  One day she was prepping and standing with her legs somewhat crossed.  He kicked her leg out from under her and stated, "That's why you don't stand in the kitchen like that," as she fell. 

I was target a few times, as he often had projects that needed working on.  My first day in the kitchen staging he dropped two cases of beef marrow bones in front of me to scrape the sinew from (prep for the filet on the menu).  I made a chef's knife serrated after a day of scraping.  Another day, I was cutting mirepoix into a very small dice (coincidentally for the same dish's prep that would be sweated and quennelled to order), when he hit my right hand elbow while I was cutting.  His only words were, "Good.  You didn't cut yourself.  You know how to use a knife."

I was pissed off, and saw red.  Grabbing him by the neckerchief (standard unform), I quickly turned my knife on him.  I believe I said something to the effect of, "I do, and unless you want to be a dead Frenchman at my feet, I suggest you apologize."

We got along fine after that, for the most part.  Later on during my stint there, Lapin needed something from the cooler during service, but his heavy accent made it indecipherable to me.  "Hex!"  He called.  I came out with some random thing from the walkin, only to meet with his disapproval. 

"HEX!  Don't you American's know what HEX are!  It's by the mustard!!!" 

Confused, I went back to the cooler and brought out some other random article.  That was when he completely lost it.  Red faced and shouting, Lapin screamed,

"HEX, HEX, HEGS, HEGS, EGGS!!!"

I replied.

"Oh!  Eggs!" 

He wasn't too happy after that.

Arizona Stories, A Request

An old Chef of mine (I'll call him Monroe) from Phoenix wanted to hear a story about our old Executive Chef J.  Now Monroe really wasn't too keen on J's rules and general Boy Scoutedness.  There's a few key things for you to know about Chef J to make this post make sense.  So let me give you some background.

Chef J (and our head steward) used to search the employee housing weekly (where I lived) to ensure the interns and/or current residents were living to code.  Heck, we weren't allowed to have food in our rooms, all meals were supposed to be eaten at the resort or somewhere on the town.  Which sucked.  One day he stole the vanilla wafer cookies I had hidden in my sock drawer.  Swear to God.  Never got written up for it, but the empty package was in the trash...  With no cookies! 

With that I decided a prank was in order.

Our fearless cookie thieving leader also had stickers of his face made to put on the tops of the spice rub jars the resort sold and/or gave away as amenities.  With a small distraction from an unnamed intern I was able to lift a roll of the stickers.  Good thing the statute of limitations is over in this epic crime of mine.  Later, I went back to the employee housing and proceeded to hang out with a coworker in their room.  After some drinking, the coworker decided to run some laundry.  I was still in the room, and made it to the restroom.  I quickly turned off the water valve and flushed the toilet to drain the tank.  I then dried off the bowl with a wad of Kleenex and stuck a bunch of stickers (of Chef J's head) to the bottom.  I then turned the water valves back on and walked out of the washroom. 

The epic part of the plan was this was one of the last nights the neighbor was in town.  They ran a shorter internship. 

And after they were gone, the chef had to inspect their room with the head steward. 

Word is the head steward caught the prank only after he'd used the facilities.  And he was the one that had to scrape the stickers off of the basin.

And that's what you get for stealing my cookies, jerks.

Arizona Stories, The Ballad of Lonely Bob

I used to work for a five starred, five Mobile Diamond resort on the west side of Phoenix.  It seems to be the source of most of the stories I retell over and over (much to my wife, family & friend's dismay).  I'd like to share a few of these choice gems that I've been polishing, as most of you won't get the chance to hear them in person.  And if you have heard them in person, well, quit whining.  I'll write about you next.

The property was huge, including three professionally designed golf courses, an incredible spa, a killer pool, over 365 rooms, three high end restaurants led by an ex-White House chef, and had a considerably large area to house workers and interns.  I was one of the latter during my internship from Kendall College.  I worked through every kitchen and station I could over two seasons, eventually working in their four star, four diamond ode to Southwestern cuisine.  We did everything from scratch.  We made our own bread, desserts, butchered only prime meats, and carried the biggest chip on our shoulders for doing this on a day-to-day high volume basis.

I saw an extremely large number of cooks flow though the line over a short period of time though those two seasons.  One of those I shall call "Lonely Bob".  We named him this because there were too many Bob's.  I should know, I was one of them.  My nickname was (still is) Shaky or Shakes.  I drink a lot of caffiene.  Lonely Bob got dumped by his girlfriend for a fellow cook.  Thus the lonely moniker.  Well, to put it kindly, Lonely Bob sucked.  Royally.  The culinary school he'd applied to said that he needed atleast a year's professional experience before they'd let him into their program, and they set him up with us.

Good 'ol Lonely quickly found himself on night shift duty.  It was the consumate bitch shift, 7 pm to 7 am.  The job entailed a few key tasks; to strain and cool the stocks, perform general prep, grind butcher scraps, set up breakfast for the main dining room, and to cook employee meal for the the night cleaners, bakery, & security staff.  Two days in, the night cleaners logged a formal complaint.  He'd marinated chicken in raw white vinegar and then cooked it with peppers, calling it chicken fajitas.  I swear every time a hispanic person walked by him they muttered a death threat under their breath.

The evening before Thanksgiving, Lonely was given the task of cooking turkeys for the next morning.  He was told by the Executive Sous to cook 8 turkeys to 135 degrees, and to set them up in a closed door speed rack with 6 sternos on a sheet pan on the bottom to keep them warm for the next morning, when they'd be brought up to temp before lunch service. 

For those of you who don't know how sternos work, they're the little cans of gelled, napalm heat that are placed under pans on buffet lines.  When lit, they burn blue flame.  They're effing hot.  Well, good old Bobby has never used them before, and interpreting the directions literally, takes the gel out of the cans with a spatula and smears the goo onto the oversized cookie sheet.  He puts it on the bottom, lights the pan, shuts the door, AND WALKS AWAY.  Now usually only a small surface area burns with these things.  He's multiplied this over tenfold. 

Long story short. my friend, a night baker comes out of the pastry shop and sees flames licking the outside of the cart.  Wide eyed, she runs to the dish area, grabs a mop & bucket, uses the butt end of the mop to open the cart's latch, and throws the dirty mop water over the fire frantically. 

All of the turkey's were ruined.  Blackened by Metallica comes to mind.  I remember the smell vividly as I walked into the kitchen for my morning shift.

Lonely had burnt a hole through the sheet pan.  No shit.

We had run to Safeway for more turkeys.  Lonely didn't last much longer after that.