Expediting Styles, Tricks of the Trade

It's funny how no one ever talks about how we get the food out of our kitchens in time.  You'll often hear chefs discussing recipes, sourcing or the like, but expediting service is one of the most important things we do.  There are a bunch of styles and it seems that everybody has their own little tricks or techniques.

One of the easiest styles of service is primarily used in Italian and some small plate restaurants, where as the food is finished it's brought to the table.  So if the calamari takes less time to cook than the gnocchi, you'll get the fish first, if ya know what I mean.  The only disadvantage is that some diners think this is a shortcoming, especially if they *aren't* sharing plates.  Tickets can also get lost during a busy rush this way, and if the table in question gets their squid in two minutes and somebody burns your pasta sauce, the recovery of the table gets trickier for your waitstaff.  I've found that you do tend to generate more comps with this, however the food cost for small plates usually runs low, and if this style allows your to burn through your board quickly...  it may be worth the possible damage. 

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the coursed degustation menu.  In some rare instances, this is used without running an a la carte menu option.  This requires the chef to keep track of service with a constant, obsessive watch on the diners, usually through food runners, essays, servers and the occasional manager who happens to be within reach.  Time is also of the import to keep track of, I personally write the last two digits of the time each course leaves the kitchen and cross off that course with a marker.  It's a good idea to then move the ticket into a different grouping with other tables that are on the same course.

Some decisions have to be made as to who fires the tickets then.  Is it solely the waiter's responsibility?  Or does the Chef fire if the servers are overwhelmed with the rush?  I take control when I have not seen a waiter and someone reports the table is cleared, and the way I keep track is the 15 minute rule.  If fifteen minutes go by without a fire, I send someone to check the table or to check with the waiter.  In some instances of smaller portion size, the time gap can get shortened or if a particularly large course is being served, the gap can be extended.  After a while it becomes second nature, intuitive to question when something seems even slightly amiss. 

Any other restaurant runs a hybrid of these two extremes.  Space available in your kitchen oft dictates any other changes.  Cooks should be expected to verbally call out in response to ordering and firing from the expeditor, and times left for cooking should be exact.  The order which tickets are placed on the deck should always be consistent between all who run the station on a given property, so if someone has to take over in the heat of the evening rush, tickets are not pulled out of order.     

It must be noted here that expediting service also entails a high level of quality control and a hawk's eye on the cooks and servers.  Don't forget that the food and plate as far as hot food needs to stay that way.  Hot.  Keep in mind that cooks will lie, cheat, and cut corners without a shred of guilt towards the customer.  Servers will handle your plates like oxen, thumb your clean plates and hold shit at a 45 degree angle if let run rampant.  Most expeditors then finish the dish with any last minute garnish and wipe any smears on the plate as it exits the window.  I've found that knotted cheesecloth cut into little 2-3 inch "nubbies" works the best for this task.  If you do not want a smear on expensive plates, damping the cheesecloth in vodka or gin prevents the same type of streaking you would get, similar to avoiding streaking on windows by using window cleaner instead of water.  An expo station is every bit as important to set as a cook's station.  Mise en place is key.  Respect the set up and you run less a risk of put yourself and your kitchen in the weeds.

Every time you have a re-fire, either because of a kitchen, front of the house, or diner preference, your flow of food is jeopardized.  It's basic time management.  You want less steps for you and your team, as any extra steps sets back the remaining tickets during a rush.  Keeping track of re-fires and pushing out of your domain is of the utmost importance then.  Before a server leaves the kitchen, you need to know the table number, position and quickly write it down on a piece of paper and hang it on your docket so to prevent any mistakes.  If you can get a seat number or position as well, this works in your favor in getting the food to the guest in a timely manner.  All communication between the front and back of the house needs to be brief, clear and concise in order to waste the least amount of time.  Shortening dish names and giving cooks that have long names a shortened name can often save you a sore throat during extremely busy services.

In extremely busy restaurants, especially those that have theater rushes or other intense periods of business, multiple expeditors are run, usually with a focus on a particular station.  This can get really loud, with multiple bosses barking out orders.  Even more so with open kitchens with the diners and any music adding to the din.  Thus the sore throat comment earlier.  It ain't a library.  This often can lead to the misconception that chefs are always angry.  Some of us are.  Others just need to be heard so they can steer the ship.  Those of us who aren't sadists keep this to as dull a roar as possible. 

In case of most hotels, several menus may be pushed out of the same space.  Restaurant(s), bar, room service and even banquets can be drawn off the same line.  This adds to the need of having clear lines of communication between departments.  Walkies, headsets/earpieces, and land lines in connection with a point of sales system (or God forbid written system, does this even exist outside a small handful of independent restaurants any more?) are needed to ensure a smooth service.  This multiple outlet rush can destroy even the most stocked and efficient line if no one sees it coming.  Measures and concessions can always be made to streamline service if forewarning is given.  Perhaps this is why some restaurants don't succeed?  Not being able to handle a rush due to not preparing in advance can piss off a lot of diners in a short period of time.  And this brings me to my next topic.

Hosts & Hostesses are very important.  They set the pace.  When possible they stagger the tables as to not crush the waitstaff or overwhelm the kitchen.  Their communication with the front of house management is a must to a successful service.  It's always a good idea to keep in the loop with the reservationists to foresee any VIPs, strange dietary concerns, or the general flow of traffic for the evening.

Am I forgetting anything?   I hope this is useful to anyone that expos on a regular basis.

Coursed Dinner Party Menu, December 30th

 

 

 

Tentative Menu

 

 

Caramelized Celery Root Pave, Lemoncello Cured Salmon

 

This amuse course should be fun, a faux custard of blanc cooked celery root, pureed & strained overnight in cheesecloth.  Finished with yuzu juice.  The salmon will be cured with kosher salt & brown sugar overnight and then basted with meyer lemon infused vodka until a pellicle is formed.  I'm planning on brulee-ing the top of the pave served in black miso spoons and garnishing the top with the thinly sliced gravlax.
 

Foie Gras & Chestnut Soup, Seared Foie Gras Awesomeness

 

Soup course of course!  Onion, garlic sweated in butter (lard or bacon fat, kinda waffling on this), white wine & a touch of sherry, chestnuts, orange zest, chicken or duck stock, cream.  Finished with foie gras butter (3:1 butter to passed liver scrap, keeps from curdling) & sherry vinegar.  Served in mini 4 oz. soup cups with a metal fleur de lys skewer holding a seared piece of foie gras over the top.  Decadent, maybe.  Tasty, damn right!  My homage to the late, great Jean-Louis Palladin.

 

Lobster Custard Timbale, Vanilla & Star Anise Scented Root Vegetables, Beet Emulsion

 

1/2 quart of cream : 4 whole eggs.  Buttered timbale molds, parchment round in the bottom.  Cooked, diced lobster, dried on towel before folding into the custard.  Season with salt, pepper & herbs as necessary.  Cook in water bath in 300* oven until set.  Chill overnight, run paring knife around edges and unmold.  Star anise & vanilla bean oil just infused for a few weeks (grapeseed or neutral oil preferred).  Thinking a mix of fun root veggies, whatever I find at the market or through Tom Cornille if I can fit in a visit.  For the Beet Emulsion, cooked red beet pureed with some balsamic & sherry vinegars and some nice extra virgin olive oil.  Might garnish the top with something crispy, a beet, lotus root chip or fried leeks.     

 

 Poussin, Citrus Cous Cous Cake, Baby Carrot, Blueberry Jus

 

This is the course that's most likely to change depending on what I can get my grubby little mits on.  [Insert diabolical laughter here.]  Any game bird that I can find fresh, poussin (baby chicken), squab, pheasant or duck in a pinch.  If poussin, I'm planning on removing the breast & thighs from the carcass and cooking them seperately, confiting the thighs and roasting the breasts.  The carcass will be roasted for the jus, which will be finished with syrup reconstituted dried blueberries & foie gras butter.  The cous cous will be cooked in orange juice & chicken stock, drained without rinsing onto a sheet pan, frozen, cut into shape, and then egged breaded and pan fried to golden sweetness.  The baby carrots will be treated with love and affection, and some charred orange may make an appearance.  'Cuz that's how I roll, guy.   

 

Roquefort, Aerated Dark Chocolate, Candied Cilantro

 

Sound strange?  It isn't.  Blue cheese, chocolate & cilantro are wickedly awesome together.  Just ask Chef Don Yamauchi who first introduced the combo to me back at Le Francais.  I've changed it to a more contemporary take, by aerating the chocolate.  To aerate chocolate, first temper dark chocolate and pour into an Issi.  Charge with two cartridges.  Shoot chocolate into a metal 3rd or 1/2 pan and put into a cryovac machine, *uncovered*, and run the machine until the mix almost overflows the pan.  Repeat a few times and then freeze to set the mix.  This causes the chocolate to take on tons of tiny air bubbles, almost making a solid mousse without cream or eggs.  The candied cilantro with be done up with lightly frothed egg white and caster sugar.  The blue cheese will be the best I can find, tempered to room temperature, of course.

 

Rose Touched Creme Brulee, Currant

 

I found a recipe for rose creme brulee in a French cookbook by Joel Robuchon called Facile.  I'm planning on adapting Le Titi de Paris' old creme brulee recipe to include rose instead of vanilla notes.  Currants are the fruit of choice, but if something else catches my attention, this is apt to change.

 

Mignardises & Coffee

 

Is it only me that wants to pronounce mignardises, MIG-nards?  Planning on coating a foie gras flavored cream cheese with Callebaut dark chocolate.  Or something else you wouldn't normally find filling chocolates.  Any suggestions?

French Laundry, Chef & Vegetable Tastings, 9/28/12

 

 

 



                           
                 

 

 

 

  

 

 

                              

                              

                              


                              

                              

                               


                             


                              


                              


                              


                              


                              


                             


                              

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?

Highwood Story, Kitchen Fight!!!

I used to work for a notorious restaurant in the North 'burbs, where the Chef/Owner's temper was nigh near legendary.  He worked for 4 Michelin 3 star kitchens back when it meant something. His kitchen was the most militaristic, intense place I've ever had the um... pleasure(?) of working.  Cameras were everywhere, 16 in the kitchen areas, plus one webcam that the public could watch.  Which was nice for my wife, as she could tell when I was done working by seeing us clean at the end of shift.  Bad for the cooks though, as Chef had a habit of watching (even on vacation) and would call back to chew out the staff if he caught something out of place. 

I have a feeling there will be more than one blog about this place, but I'll start with this story.  Kind of ease back into it, see if there's any response.

So one day right before service kicked in, one of my cooks has an issue with a busser.  The cook was Fernando, who I believe was lying about his age to work.  I think he was honestly turning 16 years old halfway though his employment.  Acne riddled his face; he was prone to hormone addled rage at anything and everything.  He was a quick learner though, and was one of two main cooks on the pasta station.  Angry at the world, chip one his shoulder, and hadn't had his ass kicked hard enough yet.

The busser was Ishmael.  Twenty one years old, Ish was a full 4 inches taller than Fernando and ripped.  Ish was training to be an amateur lightweight boxer.  He could also clear more plates than most men could carry, with one hand.  Sweet guy though.  Softspoken and very polite.  I wouldn't want to start anything with him though, I doubt I'd win a fair fight (emphasis on the word fair). 

So the two get into it verbally, I pretty sure Fern told Ish to go have sex with his mother in an uncomfortable place, and it wasn't the back of a Volkswagon.  More words were exchanged and a small shove or two commenced.  They agreed to take it outside and I started to follow.  Except they never made it outside.

Ish had gone first, and as he reached the stairwell before exiting the back door, he swang the service door into Fernando's face.  Hard.  His hand then shot out and pulled the cook by the neck into the small area at the top of the stairs.  By this time I'd ran past the dish station to follow while calling out for the General Manager at the top of my lungs.  I cleared the door and confronted the two workers, who were now fully punching each other in their respective faces.  With 13 stairs leading into the basement right at their feet.  Idiots.  Someone could've died there.  Not thinking any further, I grabbed both of them and pulled them apart, all while calling for the GM, who came in time to see me holding the two apart by their shirts.

The best part of the whole thing was that it had been entirely caught on camera.  I was able to watch and replay the part where I broke up the two a good half dozen times later that evening.  I also had no issues with the kitchen staff for a few weeks after the incident.  I guess they thought I was a little crazy or something.  I think they were right.  

I ran into Fernando earlier this last year.  He works at a Garden Fresh market, his acne cleared up, and his English is better than mine now.  I'm glad to see this was just a phase or something and that he turned out okay in the end. 

A pic from said restaurant. 

The Show

There's a certain showmanship that goes with a successful restaurant.  Can you honestly say you've never watched what the table next to you has ordered, with the anticipation of your own pleasure or displeasure awaiting for you?  Have you ever just sat down to see the table next to you order a souffle, and watch the waiter pierce the top and pour sauce in the now deflated carcass before them, and while you drool, decide that, you too must have that pleasure as well?  Or sat at a bar and seen the bartender shake a martini fifteen times over his head (even though there's no reason to do so) and as they pour it into the chilled glass before them decide that, "Hey, I could go for one of those..."

I try to think about this as much as possible, especially when writing menus.  The French knew this style of service well.  You might not want to pay a few hundred bucks for simple sustenance, but we'll all pay for a show.  Think about how much you'd pay to see The Doors if the Lizard King himself came back from the grave.  Tableside crepes & cheese carts fill the same pleasure spot in our brains.

Take the night I proposed to my wife, August 23, 2004.  The restaurant, Tru, was the stage that I was to perform.  I'd been working some insane hours at Karma and unbeknownst to Anne, had a diamond broker meet me at the restaurant during a quick break to show me settings a few weeks before.  The ring was burning a hole in my pocket (actually my sock drawer), and I made the excuse that I needed to see another fine dining restaurant to give me new ideas, inspiration, and some peaceful respite.  She bought it hook, line and sinker.  When I made the rez, I told the FOH what I planned on doing, and they told me they'd play along.  Awesome.

Tru has a show kitchen of sorts, with windows that let you see parts of stations and the cooks working.  They also have a cheese cart, caviar staircases, live goldfish in bowls under one course, a dessert cart, multiple people waiting on you, a cool bathroom... you can't not talk about it, and that's the point.  I lucked out, as the head waiter was one of my old chef's cousins and our waiter, Fredrick, was the sommelier at Le Francais when I cooked there.  Crazy.

So we get 3/4's of the way through the meal and Anne excuses herself to powder her nose.  I grab the waitstaff and tell 'em I'm ready when she gets back.

I proposed in between salad & cheese courses.  She said yes, and the crew took pictures as it happened.  When she teared up, they brought out a box of kleenex in a chrome tissue box.  And they printed the pics on the menu we ate and as we finished, gave us a tour of the kitchen.  The show here was great.  They did misspell congratulations in chocolate on our dessert plate... at least Gale wasn't in the kitchen that night.

Oh, BTW, Happy Anniversary, baby!  As of Monday, 6 years married, 12 years together, and we're still stupid for each other.



My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 8, White Heat & The Devil in the Kitchen



Today is a Christmas homage to Marco Pierre White.  The first book, White Heat, was one of those cookbook legends when I started cooking.  It wasn't easy to find.  Most head chefs worth their salt had a copy, and you could steal a glance at it when things were slower or at the end of your shift.  A few things made this book and their author different from most other cookbooks.

He was the first British chef to achieve 3 Michelin stars and the youngest chef anywhere to gain 'em.  He had an epic temper as well, chain smoked, and pretty much invented the concept of a rockstar chef.  Gordon Ramsey came out of his kitchen as well as tons of broken cooks (and some successful ones).  He also peppered his book with quotes & kitchen pictures that suggested a hard professional intensity.

'I've worked for over ten years for recognition, and now I've got it. I've got money now, but I'm no happier. It's not material things that bring me happiness. Perhaps that's why I work with food, with growing things. ... My respect and admiration for life has come from food, through food.'

- White Heat, Marco Pierre White

His second book, The Devil in the Kitchen, is more autobiographical in nature and equals Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential in culinary/literary bad-assery.  The pictures in both books are to be blamed for how they inspired a generation of young tyrants (I'm recovering, I swear).  It's hard to explain how evocative these books are until you've seen them.  They contain an obsessed passion that makes you want to cook, and cook at the top of your game for as long as you can mentally and physically do it.



Also, search his cooking demos on YouTube.  They're awesome.  Many of the preparations are now even more rare, since the style of cooking he does is quickly becoming a footnote in the current dining scene.  But you'll learn that technique & passion are every bit as important in the recipe for a successful culinary career.





Christmas Menus, Chestnuts Especially

I love cooking this time of year.  Any time after Halloween and through Thanksgiving, Christmas & New Year's.  Hearty, fun, family food.  I was cooking on the line today and thinking of chestnuts.  You see, this year is the first year in many that I haven't used them on a menu this time of year.  Rapidly my brain thought of all the preparations I've done, and the other foods I've paired with them.  For fun, I'm going to list as many as I can remember.



- Chestnut soup, Jean Louis Palladin-influenced.  Onion, garlic sauteed in butter and duck fat, deglazed with white wine.  Chestnuts, a few potatoes for body, veggie or duck stock, cream.  Little orange zest.  Fix acidity with sherry vinegar.  Few drops truffle oil.  Finished with foie gras butter.

- Le Francais style puree.  Cook in syrup until falling apart.  Puree (little butter & cream never hurt here), dry out.  Pipe into small mounds.  Pair with venison or other game.

- Chestnut mousse for desserts, often piped onto something crispy (puff paste or fillo crisps).  Plenty of powdered sugar.  Pair with blood orange or similar citrus.

- Sauteed in a mix of veggies like brussel sprout leaves, dried cherries or cranberries, and/or roasted squash to accompany duck or other protein.

- Candied as garnish.



- Roasted, minces & then sauteed with bacon or panchetta as a potato soup garnish.  Adding chopped parsley & citrus zest makes this even more awesome.

- Paired with... pears!  All types, really, most preparations.  Apples & quince too!



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. 5... Combined Giradet!

This is both a double review and an ode to a chef that I wish I could've worked for.

Wikipedia quote:
Frédy Girardet (born 17 November 1936 in Lausanne) is a Swiss chef who cooks in the French tradition. Often considered one of the greatest chefs of the 20th Century, his self-named restaurant in Crissier, Switzerland (near Lausanne, Switzerland) earned three Michelin stars and before Giradet's retirement in 1996 was often called the greatest restaurant in the world.

Fredy's first book is a rarity to find.  They sold out of it's first printings very quickly and has become a cult classic amongst chefs.  Giradet went to show that improvision could be done at a very high level as long as the technique & quality of the ingredients at hand were of the highest level.  I've worked for one chef that came out of his kitchen and it was interesting to have Giradet's books while perusing that restaurant's recipe book.

If you see a copy of this in good condition, buy it!

Reading The Cuisine of Fredy Giradet gives you a look into the larder of an intelligent, opinionated chef with extremely high standards.  But his cooking wasn't supercomplex, just a reaction to the market with an extreme focus on palate and seasoning.  Words to live by.

His second book is pretty intense as well and was released after he'd left his restaurant.

This book has a slew of pictures, which makes it very different from the first.  I love the detail, the minutia of every single dish.  He insists on perfection more akin to a watchmaker than a chef.  The dish itself is simple, but the technique is complex.  Effing awesome.

His foie gras & game recipes are an incredible reference, as you know they're going to work.  Isn't that the best type of cookbook?  Honest & proven.  No bullshit.  I think the best thing is his philosophy of cooking... the complete opposite of the molecular gastronomy movement, which Giradet has actively spoken out against.  He doesn't agree with the fact the ingredients used aren't natural.  I think he views it as cheating or a fad.  I love the old schoolers, even if I can't completely agree with them, they don't back down. 

And Fredy Giradet was one of the best.

 

Culinary Musings, Sabotage!

The key to being a good cook is an obsessive attention to detail.  I was reminded of this recently by watching an old school chef expedite tickets on a busy night.  Every ticket was folded exactly in half and stacked about 3/4's of the way over the next order, forming a perfect line of soldiers waiting to be shot down.  Any other way and the pass would've been too full of tickets to deal with.  Before I used to crease the ticket a bit, but I was wasting space. I will never expedite a different way now. 

Another chef I worked really close with, James, was the best cook I've ever had the honor of working next to.  If a good cook sees 3 steps ahead, James saw 6.  I could learn more watching him dance the line during the rush than I could a year on my own.  Honestly.  He was a machine.  When he told me he thought I was a faster cook, I nearly shat myself.  To me, he was the better.

James used to tell me about working at Le Vichyssois (http://levichyssois.com/) with Chef Bernard Cretier.  Who hands down is the most hardcore, old school, classically trained, certified bad ass French chef in the Chicagoland area, no contest.  He still cooks on the line.  He opened his restaurant in 1976.  Do the math.  If a cook would do something out of order, or add more steps to a process, he would say, "Sabotage!  Why do you sabotage yourself?"  Think about it.  Every time you add a step, you lose time and focus.  In the craziest kitchens, one extra step on a busy evening can be the difference between getting a pat on the back or getting chewed at by the boss.

By the way, visit Bernard.  He and his wife are awesome.  They also sell art from Gerard Puvis (http://www.gerardpuvis.com/), who specializes in fusing culinary themes with the embossed foil from old wine bottles.  They're incredibly cool to frame and to give to the onophile or chef in the family.  Hint, hint, for anyone doing any Christmas shopping for me or my friends soon.

  

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?

My Favorite Cookbooks, Pt. 2

James Peterson is the man when it comes to cookbooks.  Sauces remains one of those books that continues to inspire me on a daily level.  I've honestly read it straight through at least 6 times, and referenced it countlessly.  He has a concise, brilliant way of breaking down sauces by step and technique, making it easy to adapt, and often gives more than one way of making the same sauce instead of telling you there's only one way of doing anything.  That remains my philosophy on cooking, and is only heightened by my worship of Fredy Giradet's style... but more on that later.

This book is a must have for any serious cook.

All Shook Up

I was reminded the other day of an experience my wife & I had at a popular Italian-American restaurant in the South Loop a few years ago.  We had gone for lunch with a close friend and we were recognized as friends of the chef.  The server suggested we have a glass of prosecco (Italian sparking wine, similar to champagne but made with different grapes and with a different fermentation process), which sounded like a great idea at the time.  So after ordering, he quickly came by with a bottle and made a show of opening it.

Now it was pretty busy and definitely lunchtime in the city.  We had tables to either side.  As the server opened the bottle without covering the cork with a towel, it made a loud pop and shot across the dining room.  Wine spewed everywhere, coating our friend, me, and some on my wife.  With much apology and a red-faced waiter, he ran back to grab another bottle while the bussers and a FOH manager came to remedy the situation.

Until it happened again. 

The second bottle also had issues, and while the wine didn't get us, it got the table behind us.  It was kind of funny the first time, but twice?  If I'd been the one serving the wine I'd have opened it away from the guests or in the back the second time and not presented the bottle.  The other customers weren't as happy about it.  We ended up having a great meal, but next time, we'll do without the show (or the shower). 

I'd like to imagine that it was a disgruntled wine reps last day and he shook an entire case out of some spite to the restaurant, all the while shaking his fist to the sky and mumbling about revenge.  Make for good television at least.

Veal Stock & Demi Glace, Obsessive Simplicity

I am a saucier at heart.  The daily ritual of making demi has eluded me lately and I feel a void where this obsessive-compulsive task is missing from my everyday schedule.  Not one chef I've ever worked for has ever made it the same way and the details hold glimpses into the heart of the chef in question (atleast for the French trained).

I start with fresh, not frozen bones if possible.  The only vendor who carries them currently in the Chicagoland area that I know of is Lex Foods, the owner being John Lex.  (847) 432-5741, BTW.  He's related to the guys who run JDY, who should be able to get the bones from John if you're interested in the product.  This isn't cheap, however. 

I personally don't mind cutting hard bones with soft bones 50/50.  Soft bones are cheaper and tend to run smaller.  They're great for second washes or remoulage (the term for making veal stock from the same bones twice, often used to start the next batch of demi instead of water).  The only issue with soft bones is that I can't find them fresh, and I'll only use them if I have to drive down my costs.  Some brands are treated with sodium tripolyphosphate, which is a water retention chemical used in food processing to make the bones hold water and weight more and also helps with preserving the bones. 

This sucks.  I can smell it slightly, I swear.  And when treated bones are roasted, they'll drop water, ruining the beautiful color you need to get from your veal stock.  Crazy story somewhat off topic.  For a while we were able to get ostrich bones at half the price of veal bones in the late 90's early 00's.  Roasted and used in demi 50%, you couldn't tell the difference.  I won't name names but you'd be surprised to know who bought them.  Now the prices for ostrich bones are through the roof, as large soup companies caught on and buy almost the entire market.  I shit you not.  Effing ostrich.

Anyways, the next item is your mirepoix.  I haven't weighed a batch in ages, and I personally go easier on the veggies as a whole (especially the celery).  I like flavor, but primarily the flavor of the main ingredient in a recipe.  Veal stock should taste like the distilled essence of a thousand dead baby steer.  Nothing more, nothing less.  The veggies should be peeled, and no ass ends of carrots or peelings make it into the stock.

Why you ask?  Have you ever eaten the ass end of a carrot?  Tastes like bitter carrot pukings!  If you won't eat it, don't put it in your stock.  It's a building block, not a fucking garbage pit!  Next is the tomato product (I use paste).  It's essential to giving body to your reduction, but I err on the light end.  I will put four heaping kitchen spoons in for 100 pounds of bones.  Michael uses 4#'s weighed out if I remember right, and Bernard uses a full #10 can.  You can taste the difference, and you're able to reduce it more with less tomato.  It is essential to getting the gelatin to take hold in a finished sauce though. 

Speaking of gelatin, a few pig's feet thrown in at the end helps too.  As for color, I will brulee my onions by cutting them lengthwise and charring the shizznit out of them.  Your stock will never pick up any burnt notes, and the end product is worth seeing.  On the other veggies being cooked, caramelization is essential, but not too much.  Deglaze with red wine, but don't use too much.  Again, it's veal stock, not effing bordelaise.  Also, make sure you start with cold water or remoulage and bring quickly to a simmer.  That gives a level of clarity that's desired.

Thyme, parsley, peppercorns, and fresh bay leaves finish the stew.  Don't forget to skim, all the time!  Re-emulsified fat kills a stock if made in the western tradition.  The Chinese do some beautiful things with reincorporating fat into their stocks, but it will make an unappetizing demi with an ugly color and whorish taste.  If you like tasting whores, go eat at the docks, not where I hang my hat.  Cook overnight.

When straining for further reduction, save the bones and make stock out of them to start your next batch.  And obsess!  There's always another step to be taken to make a better product. 

A sushi chef once told an apprentice, "The sushi is never perfect until all the rice is pointing the same direction."  The lesson being that there's always something to improve on, no matter how good you are at the task.

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.

Michigan Farm Visit Yesterday

Thanks to Midwest Foods, I had the opportunity to visit Tree-Mendus Fruit in Eau Claire, Michigan.  A fourth generation orchard (Est. 1927) run by the Teichman family, the farm is over 450 acres and contains 250 apple varieties, as well as cherries, apricots, peaches, nectarines, plums, pears, & raspberries when available.

The son of the founders, Herb, was an enjoyable host and general operations have remained in the family.  His son was extremely hands on and knowledgable.  We ended up seeing and tasting some incredible fruit, a couple of apple varieties actually had pink to reddish flesh, which were the first I'd ever seen.  The Black Arkansas variety also stood out, thicker darker skin and an enjoyable flavor.  It's cider season too, check out theirs, it's incredible.

Do me a favor and check them out.  They're open to the public and you can pay to pick.  They'll also ship out on request.  Here's their info.

www.treemendus-fruit.com
Tree-mendus Fruit Farm
9351 E. Eureka Rd.
Eau Claire, MI 49111
(269) 782-7101 or (877) 863-3276