The Obsession with Food

Food is more popular than ever. I'm not sure if it's just because I'm caught in my own little "blogosphere" (I've been wanting to use that word for like a week), but all of a sudden everybody seems to know what molecular gastronomy is and who Grant Achatz is, wants to open a fine dining restaurant and are thinking of going to culinary school. Millions of people tune in to watch Top Chef, the Food Network is quickly becoming a cable powerhouse. More and more food and haute cuisine is becoming publicly accessible. Though you can't eat through the tube, you can certainly learn quite a bit (if you watch the right programs) about modern cuisine.

You disagree with me? I see you there. One of you obnoxious "foodies" who think that Food Network is trash in the same way that hipsters don't think the Arcade Fire is obscure enough anymore. Well whereas I would tell the hipsters to shove it, I do somewhat agree that Food Network is largely garbage. A muted palette of pastels and bright colors to lure in "housewives" with promises of convenient and delicious meals. Friendly, accessible faces who play both mother and teacher as they slowly guide you through their contrived meals of "a classic! BUUUT .. with a twist!" Okay that was very much a Bourdain sentence, but my point is there are good food shows out there on TV. Good Eats, though quirky and often over-the top is really educational. I'm surprised how much stuff I know in the kitchen because I learned it watching that program. Tyler's Ultimate is probably the most legitimate cooking show there is, followed by Jacque Pepin's Fast Food My Way (that's on PBS kids). And you could pretty much learn most of what's up and hot in the food world by watching Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations episodes in America. He almost certainly goes to visit some of the best chefs in each city he goes to.

So there, you can sift through the muck and find gems here and there. If it ever gets to the point where someone actually cares how I became a chef I will proudly say that I was part of a generation of people who was influenced and could learn quite a bit from food television. And that I learned oh-so-much from the internet. The wide expanse that is the webernets has been the scariest deep end I've looked in to for a while. The sheer number of food blogs, food news sites, and my discovery of just how many people LOVE food is nuts. I mean just look to your right on this site, that' just a grain of sand of that exists in the veritable desert of food-related sites, blogs and news out there. I've learned so much about my fellow cooks in the past few months just because I set up a Google Reader page, and it's kinda scary.

Scary? Why? I had this same realization with ultimate. When I went to College Nationals (still probably the most fun weekend of my life) and saw 20 college teams play their hearts out there, I realized how many great players there were. I mean there were your superstars like Will Neff, Stephen Presley, Mac Taylor, but for every star player there was a supporting cast of 25 players who were essential to the machine, and very skilled players in their own rights. I've been playing for 3 years, and I've practiced and trained really, really hard this year. But what do I have to show for that work? Ultimate is growing at an incredible rate, there are probably more than a 100,000 players in the USA. It is attracting great athletes from other sports, and really talented players. Where do I fit in?

Well regardless of my future with ultimate, I think I fit in just fine. I have limitations, mainly athletic ones, but I consider myself to be a smart and effective player. I think the fact I recognize my weaknesses makes me stronger. This was further confirmed in my mind as the club season came around. I didn't try out very seriously for any Open teams, but I played well against both Machine and Beachfront and have no regrets. I went to tournaments with various teams and played very well. So how does this super-awesome tangent tie back to food?

Well naturally everything in life worth having is incredibly difficult to attain. So many people love ultimate, so many more people love food and cooking. It's going to be damn competitive out there. I'm suddenly not the only guy who dropped his fancy education to pursue a life in the kitchen, not by a long shot. There are plenty of smart guys, so many talented cooks who are just so damn creative, and many of them started as kids, when I still considered McDonald's haute cuisine. I am scared, a little nervous right now. But I was the same way with ultimate. I thought, how am I ever going to compete with these guys? Well I kept my head down, focused on my team and worked my ass off for a year, and now I'm definitely in the same part of the atmosphere. I think it will be much the same with cooking, but a long path that will stretch over my lifetime.

Right now I'm at the bottom. There are millions on top of me. They are more skilled, more knowledgeable, many of them more talented. I have no idea what kind of talent I have towards food. Like so many other Asians, I was good at music, but unlike so many others Asians (at least the Juilliard ones) I fucking hated it. It will take a lot of things on my part to reach the top, to open a restaurant that is worthy of acclaim. I'm going to have to sacrifice a lot. Spending hours in the kitchen, oftentimes working for nothing, halving cherry tomatoes for hours (oh that actually happened this weekend). A lot of hard work, studying food trends, keeping what chefs are hot on my radar, learning from them. And creativity. The most elusive quality of all.

Creativity and inspiration are nothing you can achieve by sweat and tears alone. They either grace you or they don't. It helps to surround yourself with creative people, brilliant people in your field whom you can collect ideas from. But if you can't take all that compiled information, all the artistic touches and combine them into something your own, something original, than it's really not worth anything. You're just a copy cat then, do something original damn you! A lot of people are making their careers on doing simple food, just doing something common, uncommonly well. But the shooting stars of this period are the ones doing new things. Look how many molecular gastronomy restaurants top the World's 50 Best Restaurants. Look at this guy, Daniel Humm, an early 30s chef who just got 4 stars from the NY Times. Toes the line between traditional and groundbreaking, flirts with molecular gastronomy. In his early 30s, four stars! How can I compete with that?


The only answer I can give, and it's a unsubstantial one, is passion. Some say passion fades as it does with lovers, but I think me and cooking are in it for the long haul. I legitimately like working in the kitchen, even when it's for free and I am slaving at something terrible (halving cherry tomatoes). When I get paid for it? When I know what I'm doing? When I get to work the hot line, when I get to be in charge? Oh man, this gig only gets better as I go along. So there it is, that's all I can hope for. I believe the passion will never fade, so I will almost always have the fuel to sacrifice to put in hard work .. but as for that creative spark? That originality, that wall-shattering, ground-breaking quality that can garner everyone's attention, that only a few people truly have? Well ... I guess we'll just have to see about that.

EP #6

These Are Dark Times..

When I discovered I wanted to be a cook and eventually a chef, I told myself I probably wouldn't do catering. It seemed too hard to produce quality food on such a massive scale or not in your own kitchen. I get too easily annoyed by the little things you have to chalk up to "catering mishaps." You just have to accept that things will not go exactly according to plan and you're going to be in foreign territory. You have to accept that perfection will be even more impossible than usual. I don't like that. Being a cook I think is all about the pursuit of perfection; the pursuit of making a dish consistently perfect, or creating a perfect dish that is delicately balanced and perfectly executed. You just can't really hope for that when you've moved your operation to say, a multi-million dollar house in the North Shore suburbs of Chicago.

Yeah ... this house was damn nice. I've been in some very nice houses catering with my mom's restaurant, but this was definitely up there. I'm not even sure why these silly white people wanted an Italian restaurant to cater the damn thing. A big part of the menu was fancied up American food; grilled chicken sliders, BBQ brisket, bratwurst. The only remotely Italian things we made were grilled pesto shrimp with Sardinian couscous and heirloom tomato caprese salad. The food was dumbed down in my opinion, but they seemed to love it. Which brings me to my next point that this was my first time on the cooking side of the catering operation. In the past I usually served and came along with my mom to be paraded around to her customers. They liked seeing it was a family operation. Now that I was cooking for catering it has become even less charming, though not without its benefits.

If you have a restaurant, catering can be a lucrative prospect. You're paying for staff you'd already have to pay for, maybe an extra server or two, and it's a complete bonus on top of your dining room. So you're looking at food costs, which as you can see is often very cheap. Our Chef is turning a big profit on it. But boy is it a pain in the ass. I go in early on Friday to start prepping, cutting and pre-cooking a lot of things, wrapping 'em up and loading them in to bus tubs. It's pretty fast paced because we have to be out of there, locked and loaded by 4 PM. And we have to pretty much bring everything. Serving plates, tongs, towels, some pans, food, seasoning, serving utensils, etc. To further my kitchen/battlefield analogy, catering kind of feels like some kind of raiding party. The Chef runs through the check list, double checking we have everything, everything is GO-GO-GO! and we assembly line out the back door, ammo check and guns blazing. And then we get there and start familiarizing to the domestic kitchen, making amends and cooking. But then once service starts, it's quite boring. It's all hurry-hurry and then a lot of waiting. Generally, I don't like it.

But it is relaxed once it's all over with. You're sittin' around looking pretty once the cooking is done, enjoying a nice house kitchen and full-blast AC. You can get too relaxed. In a moment of questionable judgment, the Chef brings out the pineapple tarte tatin. I ask what the pastry is and he goes "tarte tatin" and I'm like "oh okay" and he's all like "Do you know what a tarte tatin is?" and I'm all like "Bitch please, don't be testin' my Food Network watching skeelz .. it's an upside down pie essentially, invented in France by the Tatin sisters who claim they ran out of time to make an actual pie." At which point I cross my hands and give him the international sign to "SUCK IT!" Anyway, the pie is in upside down form with the crust on top on a sheet tray. He wants to get the filling side up. He looks at the cutting board, he looks at the pie, he looks at me, and it's almost in that moment we connect as bros (read: lazy, stupid guys) and know what we must do. He flips the sheet tray in to the air, it rotates 180 degrees and lands perfectly on the cutting board with the crust now down. I can't resist, I immediately put my hand up in the air and go "Fuck yeah!" He lets out a sigh and goes "That was fucking retarded. I am awesome."

We break down the party, clean everything up and load up the van to return to Va P. We are greeted warmly as the boys at home are finishing up a pretty busy night (100 covers), poking fun at each other for them having to do some real work and us enjoying a big ole' house. Then the reason for my post title shows up through the door.

The knife guy comes in. He picks up our knives and gets them sharpened for the restaurant and he does this for just about every restaurant in the North Shore area. He knows all the gossip, how other restaurants are doing and Chef is curious. Turns out, things are bad. The rumors may not all be true but Wildfire Steakhouse is seeing some dark times, which Chef finds to be unbelievable because they are owned by Lettuce Entertain You, a massive restaurant company based in Chicago. It's one of those places that just has mass appeal and does tons of covers, almost like a higher scale Olive Garden. Michael's in Winnetka and Campagnola of Evanston are floundering, and the place where it all began for me, Oceanique, is also not doing so hot. They've all cut down to 5 days of service as opposed to 6, which Chef thinks is a questionable strategy. It's like in Harry Potter 7 where they hear about people getting offed by Death Eaters in the news, or people getting locked up in Azakban. Yeah, exactly like that. You're like curious yet kind of horrified to hear the news of people going under.

I don't know a damned thing about economics and I am woefully uninformed of our current crisis, but I guess it's really hitting us food industry people hard. My mom thankfully is doing quite well, Va P is holding up, I guess I was unaware of how bad it really is for people out there. It's scary. Hopefully the industry will rebound, but when you come back from a multi-million dollar house to go back to a kitchen with a gloomy future, it can be kind of depressing. As Chewie was saying, "We keep our heads down and are just thankful for having work for 5 days a week." Sometimes work can be harsh, but what do you do when it's gone all of a sudden? Be thankful to be busy, hopefully we'll clear this mess soon enough.

So I am thankful for getting a job at Blu as a server (Thanks, Lauren!), and finally making some money. Hopefully once I smooth out the schedule between there and Va P I'll get a real solid rhythm going. Maybe I'll learn some more about sushi (even though I know quite a bit, taste it, Tee). Then I just gotta move to Chicago. I hate moving.

EP #6

The Windy City Effect

Playing ultimate in the Great Lakes Region, especially Chicago on the Lakeside has always been something of a problem for me. It is arguably one of the worst places to play ultimate outdoors. It gets bitterly cold quickly, the wind is relentless, and the summers are hot and humid. When you're playing a long tournament, heat and humidity can cripple the unprepared ultimate player. Ideal conditions are what I imagine California to be like a lot of the time; 70ish weather, calm and clear.

One would think that the winds on the Northwestern Lakefill have forged our team in to elements-conquering badasses. This is somewhat true, we are very competent when the weather is nasty because our zone defense and offense is pretty solid (at least compared to our man-defense/offense). But is it really all that fun?

What is fun about ultimate? I've thought about this a lot. I haven't played a ton of different sports, especially not to any seriously organized extent, but ultimate certainly has an incredible and growing appeal. I think a lot of it is the players' potential to do so much. There aren't very rigidly defined positions in ultimate (as compared to other sports), and the best players can do everything. And everyone on the field is running, throwing, catching, diving, jumping, etc. You get to do it all! I've played as a center in basketball and a lineman in football, but neither can compare to the diversity that ultimate offers (though nothing was worse than playing DH in softball). Anyone on the field can make a huge impact, can make a game-changing play, but at the heart of the sport is teamwork. No one person can do it alone, so success depends on everyone doing everything well together.

And then there's the physics and mechanics of the game itself. The first layout D I ever got was one of the best feelings I've ever had. You're running your ass off trying to put pressure on your man, then the offense makes one small error, a barely underthrown pass and you POUNCE. You don't know for sure if you're going to get it and then there it is - you just get a finger or two on the disc as you're flinging your body through the air, one last desperate attempt to change the possession - a dull and unceremonious *thunk* is heard, and the disc veers off course, harmlessly hitting the ground. The pain of hitting the ground in a barely controlled crash is non-existent, you are JACKED UP on adrenaline because your sideline is cheering so loud. Now I'm on offense, I'm going to make you pay for that mistake.

I understand the dramatization of an athletic play in prose could make any sport sound like some kind of epic event, but I think there is nothing more glorious or representative of the sport of ultimate than laying out. And after you get your first couple layout D's you start learning how to create the situation for yourself. Standing a few steps behind your guy on the breakside, luring him in to a false sense of security, the defensive pressure is up, he makes an in-cut, the handler anxious to get rid of the disc throws it, he doesn't want to get stalled, you follow him in and your angle of attack is open. You won't always get it, but when you do the feeling of a simultaneously calculated, reckless and somewhat desperate plan working is exhilarating.

And then of course there's the art of skying someone. For those who don't play ultimate, the word "sky" becomes a verb in the sport to mean jumping up and claiming the disc as yours before your opponent can. Some would say simply knocking the disc away or preventing your opponent from catching it on offense is "skying" someone, but I think the verb should be reserved for catching and dominating. This is an aspect of the game that is truly unique to ultimate. A disc floats unlike any other object and once it is launched, it becomes a race. Usually the offense has a slight advantage, but the players involved are running their asses off to establish position at the spot where they can get the disc at their highest point. Speed and vertical jump are both crucial. Even someone who has a huge reach and vertical jump can be beat by someone smaller who has established position (see Alex Nord vs. Buzz Bullets, ECC '07). A lot of the time someone can simply reach the disc at a point that you cannot. Spectacular things can happen during this contest. There's physical jockeying for position, and once the moment of attack comes it is gone in almost that same instant. One person has skyed the pants off the other, and often the victim is briefly unaware that he has just been dominated. The feeling of successfully skying someone is both predatory and fulfilling. Getting a lay out D a lot of the time requires an offensive error. Skying someone is much more about a contest of wills, bodies and precision between two (sometimes more) people. It is the pure establishment of dominance.

Now back to my issue with wind. Wind changes everything about ultimate, because the unique object of play is so susceptible to it. Frisbee novices may find it nearly impossible to throw accurately in wind. Zone defense becomes the strategy of choice, and the game becomes less about athleticism and endurance, and more about mental poise and patience. A defense will try to force an offense to throw as many throws as possible by eliminating open space as opposed to open players. I could go on and on about zone defense/offense, but bottom line is I think it's boring and frustrating. I consider myself pretty good at zone offense, perhaps one of my strongest games, but I still don't find it that enjoyable. Errors become common and expected which is always a problem with someone who stresses consistency. Very often a team will patiently work a disc all the way against the wind only to turn it over on the scoring throw. It's heartbreaking and infuriating. I don't feel good after beating or losing to a team with zone. It's an honest strategy, but it feels like a dishonest win.

So is ultimate in extreme wind really proper ultimate? Ultimate is definitely meant to be played outdoors, as most sports are. And the weather and the elements can be a challenge that must be overcome in any sport also. But is ultimate the exception, just because of the unique object of play? Even if the conclusion is made that wind/zone is kind of bogus, an unfortunate factor of the game, is there really anything to be done about it? Probably not. So I guess on Saturday morning, if you see the weather is going to be hell, bitch and moan all you want, but man up and do what you can for your team. But trust me, I'm going to bitch and moan plenty.

EP #6

A Harsh Kitchen Lesson...

So Friday, July 31st, I was on the receiving end of one of the universe's flawlessly executed lessons in humility and patience.

I borrowed Paul's bike to go to work, which marked my very first bike ride in traffic with a destination in mind. I kind of imagined someone yelling excitedly, "You're doing it! You're doing it!" as I rode down the streets of Evanston, oblivious to traffic. Since almost no one except man-childs like myself get to experience their first bike ride as an adult, this was pretty sweet.

And I mention the bike ride because I was feeling pretty good about myself (I know, I'm easy to please) and I had another first accomplishment in the kitchen. I was slicing onions, and after months of practicing I finally started cutting them with proper technique and speed. I tried practicing with whole celery plants at home, and much like my cello practice, I got impatient and tried to rush and tried to be all fancy. This hampered my technique, but finally in a professional kitchen it came out right. Once again the words "You're doing it! You're doing it!" rang through my head, and I mowed through a dozen yellow onions in like 5 minutes.

And then karma, or God, or someone who wanted to remind me that I need to keep it in check, struck with great vengeance and furious anger.

Our sous-chef, Chewie, was joking to me about how culinary students aren't always all that great. How some of them don't even know how to hold a knife, and that their last intern cut herself a lot because she didn't learn proper technique. Well I was haughtily swording onions, look at me! I'm going to be way ahead of this chumps when I get to school, for I! Am all that is man! And before a chuckle could escape my lips, I felt a terrible pain in my left hand.

Chewie says, "Oh shit man." And I go, "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" I just sliced off big chunks on two of my fingernails and it hurts like a bitch. I like to think I have a high pain threshold (At least that's what my tattoo artists have told me .. and apparently Asians have higher thresholds in general.) but this hurt bad. I ran it under cold water. Even worse. I was bleeding everywhere. I sat down for a sec and wrapped my hand up, held it above my head. I'm not usually squeamish about blood but I was really light headed. My poor mutilated fingers. Shit, shit, what if that really is the end of my cello career?

Well, turns out I overexaggerated because here I am on Saturday and the pain is almost completely gone and I can type again. But I seriously felt like a) an idiot, and b) a bitch. My exuberance and excitement at believing I just leveled up my swordsmanship went crashing through the ground. Chef Jeff and Chewie comforted me saying this will be the first of many injuries, you'll burn yourself soon enough (oh wait already did that at Oceanique. Damn.) You drive a car, you'll get into accidents. But I felt stupid. And weak. I had to sit out from work for 15 minutes because I was dizzy and my hand hurt. Kitchens are like battlefields, and I left my troops in the trenches taking 'nades! On a Friday! With parties and customers coming through the door! ... Wait, I thought this was supposed to be a battlefield ... I mean the word "Fire!" is even shouted out all the time, except in the kitchen it means "Finish cooking it now! It needs to go to the table!" as opposed to "Shoot that motherfucker in the face!"

The rest of that day was kind of a blur. Working was kind of difficult because my left hand legitimately was bleeding a lot. I couldn't really grip or carry anything heavy, and that is a big part of my job description. But the universe came along again and gave me a gentle nudge in the right direction. Apparently some kid shows up and he's a vegan. I mean a child, whose parents are raising him as a vegan. Before I go on I just have to say, Are you fucking kidding me?!?! I have been told that you can raise children on a healthy vegan diet, but CMON!! McDonald's is an important part of everybody's childhood. I mean I probably would be your typical scrawny Asian if not for all the Big Macs and subsequent growth hormones I ingested as a youth.

Anyway, Chef Jeff needs a vegan snack plate for the poor bastard and wants strawberries, apples and carrot sticks. Now it just so happens that I was reading "The Art of Simple Food" by Alice Waters the night before and was like, "Hey, I'm not sure I totally know how to cut carrots into batons." And hence I read that brief blurb in the knife skills section (you cut a section off the carrot to create a flat side to rest it on. The more you know *ding*). So when Chef Jeff barks the order I'm like, Holy shit I know how to do that and I don't have to look like a total noob. Gloved left hand and knife in the right, I cut up a stack of carrot batons with perfect technique. The universe, or something, has reminded me to take it slow and learn things the right way.

Harsh fucking lesson though. Dick. .... or Bitch.

Side note: I have to mention the cold apps/dessert guy, or El Maestro.

Now I had to ask, why is this guy called El Maestro? He's a goofy Mexican guy in his late 30s, and he doesn't speak any English. Which by the way makes my job incredibly difficult. My Spanish has improved exponentially in the past 2 weeks. He thinks strawberries are called raspberries, and that raspberries are called strawberries. Well everytime he asks me to get some I figure he mixed it up and is talking about the other, but turns out my prediction is wrong and he actually got it right this time and I got the wrong kind of berries. Great.

Anyway I ask Chewie, why is he The Maestro? Well Chewie responds with a smile,

"He used to be an instructor in Mexico. But here? He fucking sucks."

Probably the most hilarious and harsh nickname ever. Then I ask, what kind of instructor?

Jorge, a waiter responds, "He was a construction foreman. He taught people how to not get killed by people like him."

Even better. Turns out his real name is Arturo, and the cooks tell me he's on the run from the federalis for murder. I'm 90% positive they're joking, because El Maestro doesn't look like he could kill one of the chickens we cook for dinner, but I'm sure that's what a lot of poor bastards thought before they got BOOM! Headshotted, GG.

Okay that's all, bye bye.

EP #6

Chef and Athlete .. Can they coexist?

http://linecook415.blogspot.com/

I've been reading this guy's, Richie's, blog. It's wonderful. A real, honest look at what it's like to be a cook on the line. I'm not sure where he works, but he's based out of San Francisco. From the general tone and description of his blog I'm guessing he doesn't work at Chez Panisse. Alice Waters seems way too chilled out to stress people out like this. Though that is probably an incorrect assumption.

Anyway, his latest post is on the tolls being a cook takes on your health. I'll just block quote it for you, even though all my fancy, schmancy writing professors here at NU tell me that's wrong to do.

"The whole "never trust a skinny chef" cliche is well known; what's not well known is the amount of energy and level of fitness needed to work on the hot line. Cooking professionally means being drive yourself to excess...the job demands it. Day after day, you will be surrounded by addicts and fiends...even if their only craving is a duck liver pate. There is little balance in the life of a cook, which makes no sense. Cooking is all about balance. It's about finding that place between punishing and rewarding yourself. Most cooks take the reward portion too far."

How true. Even though I have limited experience on the line, I see the poor bastards there practically having their fat rendered before my eyes. I put down probably two pitchers of water a night and I'm still dehydrated at the end of it. The grill chef is drenched every time I look over. But he's still a pudgy guy. Even though cooking is strenuous it's not real exercise. And then you put down delicious food at family meal, take a nibble of that, a nibble of this. Diet and exercise work best in combination.

But I get it. Even through just 4 days of work I tried to wake up in the mornings and go to the gym. Not only was my motivation at rock bottom, but my low energy levels served as a veritable ball and chain that slowed me down. I lifted like a little girl and I could barely run before I was putt-putting out like some kind of American made car. Like a Ford. Yes, direct jab, taste it Jiwon.

And after a stressful day at work what do you want to do? Well you're kind of jacked on adrenaline (at least I usually am), and all I wanna do is have a beer with some friends and talk about fun shit I missed out on and fun shit I got to partake in whilst in my culinary dungeon (with windows!). And I wanna dance! Forget girls, I just wanna dance! Okay that part not really true. Well not 100%. ANYHOW, it's definitely not discouraged to come to work with a rockin' hangover. You wake up, have a cup of coffee and go at it again with your tank at 50% and your engine all clogged up with gunk. (Last car metaphor I promise. Creative juices running low .. -.-)

And I'll be working weekends eventually for real, which means I can't take off to play ultimate whenever I want. What sad, sorry state will I be in 4 years from now? Well I refuse. I've been unhealthily overweight at one point, I don't wanna go back there. So maybe that's my advantage. I know what the dark side is like.

I need catharsis. I need to bring my body to a healthy state of homeostasis. I need to not smoke or drink for a while, and get in really good shape while I still have the time. Because frankly it's a lot easier to maintain health than to achieve it. Though it's artistic and kind of badass to look at chefs like Marco Pierre White who are effin' rock stars, work all day, party all night, smoke like a gangster and drink like a champion, I also don't want to die early.

I went to a conditioning workout ran by Zaz, and that 50-year old man kicked my ass. He out-ran me, and I consider myself to at least be in decent-pretty good shape. Then his family came along, the group of Zazzles, and that kind of hit it home. Being a cook is a hard lifestyle, potentially a life-shortening one (Fun fact: Only profession proven to shorten your lifespan? Truck driving.). With all the difficult balances I need to make with the other parts of my life that I love, my friends, ultimate, music, I don't want to end it prematurely because I really pushed it too hard. But then again, if you want true success in this business, you have to push it too hard. What a conundrum...

NURD, I hope you guys benefit from my new, reignited health regime.

EP #6

Ventures in to the New Kitchen

So my first weekend at Va Pensiero is done with and all I can is, what a weekend.

I worked Wednesday through Saturday starting at 2 PM everyday and ending around 10-11 PM. The kitchen at Va P is at a level that took some adjusting to. There are way more customers with the kitchen trying to produce 100+ covers every night, the space is huge (a kitchen with windows is a wonderful rarity), and the pace is fast. Chef Jeff runs a tight ship and definitely had a busy weekend, and I like to think he was relieved to have an extra serf lying around to do his bidding. There are a couple of interesting things about this restaurant that I was very pleasantly surprised to discover.

The staff is the definitely the first thing. Like many kitchens and restaurants (especially those in the 'burbs), this place is staffed mainly by Central American immigrants. But even though there is lightning fast Spanish being spoken, I was really surprised to discover that the wait staff speaks perfect English. Like had I just heard their voices I would've thought they were your average ole' Americans. Everybody takes their job seriously, works hard and I like to believe is genuinely interested, if not passionate, about the restaurant biz. The sous chef, Chewie, is incredibly kind and helpful and I really look forward to working with him throughout my time here.

The work is also way better. I guess Jeff and Chewie trust me to work with food a lot more than my previous employers, and I've gotten to do some really cool stuff. I manned the grill station for a little while and that was incredibly exciting for me to be on the line, even in a small capacity. When people joke that cooks literally cook themselves throughout their careers I have found that that really isn't a joke at all. The grill is blazing, fucking hot. Obviously these guys are used to it and have desensitized themselves to heat, but even reaching towards the back of the grill with tongs, just for a moment, I find myself recoiling in pain, fearful of what must be the scorching remains of my hand. And these crazy bastards are flipping veal chops with their bare hands! I understand why chefs think of themselves as street warriors. And I guess I'm kind of a little girl, but my point is the grill and the line is fucking HOT. With saute pans flipping everywhere, huge pots of pasta water bubbling away, the grill slow-roasting me from a distance, and the convection oven burping holocaustal heat every time its opened ... let's just say it's a crazy experience. Crazy awesome.

Unfortunately, since Jeff isn't hiring right now, his kitchen is fully staffed and I couldn't stay on the line or at any one station indefinitely as there was someone already doing their job better than me. So I was "relegated" to an odd personal assistant position. I did a lot of prep work; cutting veggies (knife blisters FTW), breading lamb chops, shelling peas ... that kind of shit. But I was introduced to the creative side of cooking, which I had not really been expecting to participate in for many years. Apparently there are a lot of vegans these days and they always come unannounced and expect people to prepare shit for their special needs. Yes I am hating on you vegans. That's no way to live life. Anyway, a bunch of vegans showed up and expected something delicious.

Chef Jeff ANGRY!! He points at me and stares intentedly for a few seconds, I can see the gears working in his head. Then comes the command, "Lentils on the stove, now! Get me 2 bunches of asparagus, a few zucchini and tomatoes!" I'm still getting used to where everything is and it takes me a little bit to get everything together. I apologize, he responds, "Don't be fucking sorry, be faster." I am commanded to cook the green lentils, wash and shave the aspargus, and cut the zucchini on the bias and grill them with salt, pepper and paprika. Some time later everything is ready to go, he doesn't say anything about the timing and that is praise enough in itself. I'm on time, sweet. We plate. Rather he plates because I have no fucking idea what I'm doing or what he wants. Ring mold goes down on 6 round, white plates. A few spoonfuls of lentils go first. The shaved asparagus is tossed with olive oil, salt & pepper, lemon juice and goes on top. Grilled zucchini rounds circle the ring mold alternated with what looks like a tomato confit, though I can't be sure. Cream of balsamic (I still am not sure what that is exactly), quality olive oil artfully adorn the whole thing. The ring mold comes off and the shaved asparagus spills out into a beautifully messy pile of greens. That was intentional. Vegans, eat your heart out. Chef Jeff slams the table with finality as if to say "Suck it, bitches" and walks out to tell those PETA-loving bastards what he just made.

Just one brief anecdote about my time at Va P and I gotta say it was awesome. I was exhausted but beaming every day I came home. I don't get paid but this is a hell of an experience, I've done a lot of cool shit this past weekend. I'm excited to go back on Thursday. Next time I will have to describe the mushroom strudel fiasco/experience that I went through for unannounced vegetarians. What is it with you people?!? If you're going to be picky at least tell people ahead of time. C'mon!

Lovin' it.

EP #6

What Kind of Cuisine Chooses You?

I realize that because this blog discusses two very different topics that I have two different audiences. I think it's funny that a lot of people enjoy either the ultimate or the culinary related posts, and even funnier still that there are a few who like and relate to both. Anyway, my point is I will generally try to alternate between the two and try to keep the ultimate posts as user-friendly as possible, because I know that most people have no idea what we're talking about.

So yesterday, Thursday, I had a brief interview with Chef Jeff Muldrow of Va Pensiero in Evanston. Some of you have eaten there and told me wonderful things. I finally got my chance to eat there during graduation week, and though I was kind of drunk off expensive hooch, I also really loved the food. The restaurant has received great acclaim in the latest edition of Zagat (26/24/25) and was high on the list of places in the "Worth A Trip" category. Chef Muldrow is giving me a tryout on Wednesday (yes, cooks have tryouts ... my life is just one big tryout apparently) and then we'll see where it goes from there. But I'm hoping that this will be a very educational and helpful internship, that perhaps could turn into a paying job somewhere down the road.

Chef Muldrow gave me further encouragement in that I come "highly recommended" from Oceanique, and he was very supportive of me wanting to get more experience before going to culinary school. I was concerned that going to the Culinary Institute of America with my current level of experience would not have been such a great choice. I didn't want to start my career and feel like I was behind or struggling to keep up. Maybe you've never thought of it this way, but you have a decade of schooling under your belt before you head off to college. And though you do largely learn the most about yourself and develop your most crucial skills in college, that base layer is there for you so that you aren't thrown into the deep end. So that's the way I see it with culinary school. Diving right in seemed like a risky move because I was and am so eager to start my career. I remember when I first discovered I wanted to be a chef, that I was seriously considering just dropping Northwestern and going right in to it. Another year at Northwestern turned out to be crucial to my development as a person, and I feel that more kitchen experience will do wonders as well. So here we go, into the unfamiliar world of fine Italian cuisine.

But I was and still am fascinated with French cuisine. It cannot be denied what the French have done for food. Very few cultures have elevated food to such a high level of study and refinement. It was in France that the idea of the restaurant was created, where a la carte ordering was invented. The classique kitchen brigade, the fundamental techniques of French cooking have spread throughout cuisines around the world. Truly, food would not be what it is without the innovations those damned Frenchies have made.

So naturally, I always thought I wanted to go into French cuisine (though what that is today, is hard to categorize exactly). Daniel Boulud advises in his "Letters to a Young Chef" that you must choose a cuisine in which you are deeply knowledgable and passionate about. So what is French cooking now? Well since nearly every high-end American or European cuisine uses French techniques, it's hard to pinpoint the roots. I mean, a cuisine is a representation of a culture, essentially a geographic location. Where people lived, what food was available to them because of the climate, natural resources and biology effectively defined them as a people, as a culture. No one thinks of it that way anymore because you can have tomatoes whenever you want, not just in the summer, you can have cherries grown in Chile while it's still freezing balls in the Northern hemisphere. And because French cooking has now enveloped so many ingredients and foods that are not inherently French, it really is hard to figure that out.

I think that the same is not necessarily true of Italian cuisine. Yes, modern Italian cuisine encompasses ingredients and some techniques that are not originally Italian. But the food is still of Italian flavors. Whenever people think of French flavors it's hard to exactly figure that out, I think of a lot of red wine and cream. When I think of Italian flavors I of course think of tomatoes, olive oil, sharp cow's milk cheeses, balsamic vinegar, basil, etc. Italian food just seems so much easier to categorize.

So what's my point? I'm not totally sure haha ... I think I'm trying to say that I'm about to be hit with some knowledge, and that I'm excited for it. Through all my personal studying of the culinary arts, I have in reality been studying the French culinary arts. When I worked at Oceanique, Chef Grosz was very much of the French school of cooking. He modifies this dish constantly, but here's a picture of his Steamed Maine Lobster with Tropea Onion, Sweet Corn, and Purple Basil.



And what I made constantly; an amuse bouche of salmon ceviche, wrapped in leek, served with curry-carrot essence, basil oil, radish, purple seaweed, shallot and fried beet.

What am I about to learn at Va Pensiero? I get the distinct feeling I'll be reintroduced to my old friend, the broom, for a while and then relearn the absolutely enthralling art of cutting onions and garlic. Then maybe I'll finally learn how real Italians cook pasta.

Sorry if this post was kinda helter-skelter. Hope you all are doing well. Sandblast 2009 this weekend! Perhaps one of my last ultimate tournaments for a while. And it had to be beach ultimate, damn. I suck at beach ultimate.

EP #6