Application & Vehicle October 15, 2010

A chef I work with once said the best culinary instructors were the ones who were a little geeky when they were in school. By that I think he meant, hungry for knowledge in all its variations and vehicles. I shyly have tried to get to know this instructor better, he is wildly talented and one of the most even keeled instructor I have ever met. With his endless patience and his (not so hidden) passion for the art and craft of fermentation he is forever pressing forward with new things to teach the students, new ways to inspire, new craft to perfect. I have no doubt it is his innate talent that contributes so greatly to his ability to be such an amazing instructor. Undoubtedely, when you stop to have a conversation with him he is always excited to share his latest cheese, salami, or pickle. It would be silly to point out how delicious these things always are. He has the quality in an instructor that makes students want to create amazing things so he would always be proud and never disappointed. I have worked for and with some tremendous chefs in my short life, and they all have this quality. I have been blessed to not work for many “old school” assholes, yellers, throwers, or general miscreants. Maybe this would have made me tougher, more of a perfection seeker than I am. Maybe if I went back to that period in my life where I just started culinary school, and I worked on the opening staff for Bouchon I could remember that constant prickle of attention. You can read a million food writers impression of a great chefs kitchen but it isnt until you walk into a kitchen and your hair bristles with electricity or your stomach drops that you know that tribal knowledge. Perfection is a journey, but when you look at someone so evolved, it appears, mirage-like to be a destination. The pass, the window, and the dishroom were spotless and returned to pristine every night. The greasy cord bound printers that pumped out the orders were wiped down, unplugged and put away every single night. The pass, stretched with white linen and held fast with green tape was always immaculate. No one sent a plate with the dirty footprint of an oily or saucy bottom. Your mise; tiny bottles of green, and red, and redux were clean, always. The vinegar “pluche” was never dirty, because pickups were always deliberate, hands always clean. This clarity of kitchen; from the walk in sorted with gallon size cambro containers of descending sizes, handles front, labels small, precise, and perfectly horizontal. It was no joke, it was “the work” and it didn’t end when you left the kitchen. It left me gauged with a seriousness and a deliberateness that instead of inspiring me, tortures me. I drop something and I see it before it falls. I follow behind my students and clean the trail of oil. I want a panoramic eye so I can watch the entire kitchen and move it towards perfection, and I fear I cannot evolve to that just yet, and it pains me to not see or inspire the way he inspired me. His lessons have stayed with me years to the day. How to pick herbs, wash greens, scrub oysters, mince shallots (not in a processor), reduce stocks v. I, II, III. It is in essence, what it looks like to choose the road that does not compromise. It is a hard road, but it is time for me to take it up again.

the blogroll July 13, 2010

If you haven’t checked out my blogroll, there are a lot of interesting new additions. Some are nerdy cheffie type things, some are pretty cool. Cheers!