Showing posts with label Organic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Organic. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The stage. A guide.

Question of the week/fill in the blanks: on a stage, you should ___. On a stage you should not ___. What makes a good stagiere?
amigadehelado@linecooka stage should pay attention, ask questions, taste things. Get out of the way when neccessary. Don't set stage hours by a "clock"
Tanukipdx@linecook once had a stage grab my favorite yanagiba ($$$$Japanese slicer) and cut themselves a piece of bread w/it. end of stage.
Tanukipdx@linecook a good stage silently&invisibly gets stuff done...like a little mise en place fairy. a bad stage snacks on people's mise
Benjamin_Parks@linecookOn a stage you quietly take notes You should not start telling your glory stories of all the other restaurants you have worked in.
tournant@linecook -should//STFU, do what we tell yo, stay out of the way...should not//show off your skull n knives tattoo, hit on servers
adoxograph@linecook on a stage you should absorb and remember the best and worst of what you see, esp little details
adoxograph@linecookon a stage you should not ever say to yourself well, I'm not getting paid so I don't have to (clean, be on time, fill the blank)
PrixFixeOnline@linecookYou should work your arse off, you should not stand around after finishing a task. Always ask chef for next task, speed is a must.
jrnavlag@linecook U should work and learn. U should not let the pay or lack of it be your drive.  Do your research.  Then shut up about it.
ingridc@linecookYou should shut up, be nice, listen and follow directions. You should not touch a cook's mise unless asked. Or get mouthy, ever.
ingridc@linecook p.s.-last wk's stage told chef he wants to trail our killer pasta man Javi.. so he could show him how to make it right #dieinafire
randomplacement@linecook a good stage contributes to the team and fits in with the team
randomplacement@linecook work and learn, run your mouth
Gchef703@linecook What makes a good stagiere? Hard-Working, Humble, Passionate person who Loves food and is willing to do anything to learn!
Gchef703@linecook
you should not Be a Pre Madonna!!! Should not be late, ask for days
off, breaks or a special jacket to show off to your friends

Gchef703@linecook you should Be a Sponge Listen! Learn! and ask a million questions even if they are stupid questions. ask em!

You're about to explode.  There's too far too much blood and oxygen coursing through your veins, and your eyes your pupils are so dialated that they would catch the attention of any police officer you came across.  You just finished your stage, and it went so beautifully that you're too wound up to eat, or drink, or even talk about it.  This is one of those perfectly fleeting moments, so you just sit there on the bus, missing your stop, so you can soak it all up.  You start Tuesday as the new fish cook.  Unless:

You blew it.  It seemed like your stage was going ok, but right around the end of the first turn the sous told you that you could take off.  You considered protesting, but instead you decided to change, have a smoke and get a bite to eat.  Sitting down at the bar, you order your food and a drink, and sometime later the chef tells you that you're welcome back anytime...but no job is discussed.  And you dont ask about one.  Your stage is over, and you wasted it.  So how did this happen?

Prep:
You went into the restaurant between lunch and dinner service dressed appropriately, resume and knives in hand.  For a week you've been reading the menu on-line, and bringing yourself up to speed on the background of the chef and the restaurant itself.  After your chat with the chef, you let him know that you're ready to stage that evening if he would like.  He tells you to come back Friday instead.  On Friday you show up early, smiling and introducing yourself to any staff that you come across.  You take your knives and a spoon out of your kit that you slimmed down a bit, and settle in with any prep work that they'll give you--herb picking, cutting bread, citrus supremes.  You work quietly and cleanly, with eyes and ears open so you dont miss a thing.  Unless:

You drop into the restaurant as you walk by, and approach the chef who is expediting a fairly busy lunch service.  He doesn't have time to talk to you right now, but tells you to come back that evening at 4 for a stage.  You tell him that you have tickets to a show, but could you come in tomorrow?  He asks for a resume.  You dont have it with you.  When you do show up for your stage, the chef asks you why you want to work in his restaurant; what is it about this place, this food, that turns you on?  You stumble through some bullshit answers.  He smirks at you.  Unpacking your kit you pull out 6 knives, a spatula, tongs, and a handful of spoons.  The sous steps in next to you.
"Um.  What's all that shit for?"
Working through your prep, you dont shut up--about your last job, your opinions on how things should be done, and who you think should win top chef.  No one really responds to you, but you go on anyways. 

Service:
The chef had told you that he needed a fish cook, so this is the station that you stick with through prep, line-up, and into service.  During line up you politely ask if you can taste mise, and as you taste dishes you take notes, and try to memorize the station set-up.  Just before service you sweep the station and wipe down everything for the cook.  You ask the chef if he wants you anywhere else during service, but he says no.  During service you pull plates, and garnish, but generally try to stay out of the way and observe.  Eventually the pace starts to build a bit, and the cook catches your eye.
"Alright.  We're going on 7 fish and 6 scallops.  We'll go together, ok?  You take the scallop dish."
An hour later you're cooking all of the proteins on your own, with the fish cook plating and garnishing for you.  When the sous asks how it's all going for you, you tell him you love it, and want to close the station that night.  There will be no end of shift meal or drink for you.  Just a cold family meal, a watery iced tea, and a nod of approval from the brigade.  Unless:

You bounce around the kitchen getting all up in everyones shit, but not really absorbing anything.  You taste without asking, and more than once you criticize the food.  During one of your rants about how you used to do it at your last job, the grill cook catches looks at you and growls "Well that's so fucking interesting."  Most of your evening is spent leaning against the ice machine, and when you do step in, you're so fucking slow wiping plates and garnishing that the sous knocks the chervil out of your hand and shouts "JUST FUCKING SEND IT!"  You cook zero orders, and when you sit down to eat at the bar, you order an expensive cocktail, and dont tip.  You.  Fucking.  Blew.  It.

There is nothing like a stage in any other field of work.  Sure, athletes have tryouts, and actors have auditions.  A stage is both.  It lasts many hours, is physically and mentally draining, and everyone is already expecting you to fail before you even begin.  It's the culinary equivalent of  getting jumped into a gang.  You get one chance to get it right, and being thrust into an unfamiliar, borderline hostile environment guarantees that if you don't fail outright, you are at very least probably going to make a stupid mistake.

And at the end of your stage, it's all of this pressure that makes succeeding all the more sweet.  To have cooked well, and won over the cooks that let you into their home is a special thing.  It's a re-affirming rite of passage, and a fleeting feeling you only get to enjoy every once in a while.  Don't let your stage just pass on by.


notes.
  • that's not bechamel.
  • holy shit!  I updated finally!
  • podcasts are coming back.  no really.  they are.
  • get some rest.
  • burrito
  • stepping into an open grease trap means youll probably need new shoes.
  • that's pasta water.  not a deep fryer.
  • fish & farm seems like its becoming the new industry night off spot

Quotes and Conversations.

Me, to Gerardo:  Hey dude.  Tell your partner if he mouths off to me again, im gonna tie him up.
Eddie:  Shhiiiiiiieeeeeett.  You wish!  You wish you could enter the dungeon!

(I pinch Eddie's nipple.)
Eddie:  Hey dude!  Not the nipples!
Me:  Oh, im gonna get the nipples.
Eddie:  (pause)  I'm...ticklish.

Me:  You can call him a pussy if you want to.
Eddie:  I don't want to call him a pussy.  That would be the pot calling the kettle black.

Me:  Eddie.  Want me to give you a hand massage?
Eddie:  No.
Me:  With my balls?
Eddie:  That's not a massage.

Goose:  Those new light fixtures are bad.  The block looks good now.
Me:  Yeah dude, they're nice.
Eddie:  And they reduce light pollution.
Me:  Fuck off Ed Begley Jr.
Goose:  Get the fuck outta here with that shit.
Eddie:  Did you know I can ruin any conversation?

"I'm a human snuggie.  You wrap me around you and watch t.v.  I come in different colors.  But mostly white."
-Corey.  Human snuggie.

Gerardo:  Can I borrow your skimmer thingy?
Merrell:  It's called a spider.
Gerardo:  I know a guy named spider.

Me:  Elton John has hairless balls?  What?
Goose and Dega:  I have hairless balls!
Me:  I hate you guys.

Me:  Would you bone down with a guy that wears a lot of gold jewelry?
Dega:  How much gold jewelry?
Me:  A lot.
Dega:  Hell yeah.  Mr. T?
Me:  You'd bone down with Mr. T?

Me:  Wouldn't that be cool?  If you had a hinge on your balls?  You could move them like this.
Goose:  Yeah.  But then you'd have to grease them.  You wouldn't want squeaky balls.

Merrell:  My stomach is getting flat.  See?
(Gerardo is watching the conversation.)
Merrell:  This doesn't concern you Gerardo.
Gerardo:  I was watching you touch yourself.

"I evaluate every stripper on a case by case basis."
-Eddie.

Eddie:  You missed out.  I brought candy yesterday.
Corey:  What are you?  A pervert?  Halloween's over bro.

Eddie:  I think old people are cute.  I saw some old people going into Good Vibrations...
Corey:  Stop.  Stop.  Sentences should not include old people and Good Vibrations.

(Jamie is feeling my abs.)
Jamie:  You should feel his abs.  It's impressive. 
Merrell:  I'd rather feel yours.  (Jamie walks away)
Merrell:  Was that weird?

(Merrell walks into the corner of the stove.)
Me:  Did you just jab your pussy with the oven?
Merrell:  Yes.  Even though I don't have balls, it still hurts.
Me:  Graceful.  You're a real pageant queen.
Merrell:  I'm a fuckin lady.


from top:  sautee, line up, al, a gift from ryan farr, mer-mer's balls, where am i vol. 6, fuck you in your ear, super bowl, you figure it out


Monday, November 9, 2009

Podcast 2.5 - Jon Bonne and Kevin Kelley. Wine!

We've only done a couple of off site podcasts, but this was the first time we left the 415 altogether.  Amy and I had an interesting drive up to Santa Rosa, where we hung out at Salinia with wine maker Kevin Kelley and wine writer Jon Bonne. 

There is an absurd amount of information crammed into this podcast...If you cook, and you feel like you dont understand wine as much you would like, this might help.  And of course, we cap it off with plenty of sillyness at the end.


Opening music is "Damaged Goods" by Gang of Four.

2:45 - We're not talking wine...I don't know if there's any wine on this table.
4:20 - I just shot it.
10:55 - It's similar to cooking....
17:30 - If I made the same wine year after year...
19:32 - This is hurting the case for the Nopa frozen food line.
22:29 - So we won't see your wine in Vegas anytime soon?
27:42 - The case for whole clusters.
35:33 - Most of them are under twenty dollars a bottle...
42:42 - What Wolfgang Weber does at restaurants to get a great bottle of wine
46:15 - Jon's favorite wine varietals and regions
49:45 - It's easy to blow off a category of wine, but...
57:20 - What restaurants do you go to for interesting wine?
1:00:00 - Enough wine...
1:10:21 - Are we in the 707? 
1:14:40 - I feel uncomfortable where this conversation is going...
1:18:56 - Calling Corey.







Saturday, September 12, 2009

Perfect?

Question of the week: Is there such a thing as a "perfect" dish? Have you eaten one? Have you cooked one? What was it?
libertyhuangIcon_lock@linecook My Uncle Jerry's braised pork belly is my fav dish ever.
Gingerthegirl@linecook I could wax all poetic on a lot of dishes I've had, but I what know is this: the hungrier I am, the more "perfect" a dish tastes.
shepdave@linecook no such thing as a "perfect" dish. 4 me every dish is an evolution 2wards the best possible dish. that said:sushi@tsukiji =perfect
JessPav@linecook There's no such thing as a perfect dish. Just like there's no such thing as a perfect poem. It can always be improved on.
RFaucette@linecook yes I think you can make a "perfect" dish. It may only be perfect to you though. I don't think it can be perfect for everyone.
rupski23@linecook I think perfect meals can be acheived more often than we think. Often, it's a question of being perfect for that moment
sfmongoose@linecook yaaaaa........... my calamari dishes hahaha
Pav1ov@linecook I got brain lock thinking of an answer! Ass kickin question. Simply put, the answers are all no. But it's something we are all ...hollowspring@linecook The best is wild strawberries just picked from the plant.
MatthewSievert@linecook I feel good when I execute good food for others. Obtaining perfection or eating perfection can be a curse and a goal.
CNrecords@linecook the perfect dish after surfing is either; a) smoked fish sandwich w/ tomato and cold drink or b) burger and a cold drink.
HeatherHAL@linecook I think perfection lies in the simple things, like a roasted chicken. I'm getting there!
dianasaurusrex@linecook I think a great BLT w/avocado can be the perfect food. I had a sous vide lobster once @ The French Laundry that was perfection!
tablehopper perfect dishes: the watermelon pickle/pork belly number at fatty crab, and the cha ca la vong version at betelnut haunts me.

I've only experienced it a handful of times in my life--about the same amount of times that i've been in love, gotten into fistfights, or felt rock bottom misery. The times when it's shown itself were quiet, almost terrifying. In the heat of service, going a million miles an hour, you stand up from being crouched over your plating. Looking down, you're not sure whats going on right away. You turn the plate to the right, then to the left. Then it dawns on you: the plating composition is perfect. Every element is resting perfectly. This becomes your model for the rest of the night. At the end of service you cook the dish for yourself, and call over all of the other cooks. There are mutters of "fuckin nice plates dude" and "you frills motherfucker, look at this thing." As you all dig in, everyone goes silent. Your grill guy breaks the silence.
"That's a bad ass dish. Everything works. It's just...."
"Perfect."
It's the kind of dish that you never get bored of cooking, or eating. After a few weeks of running it, you decide to take it off the menu--if only to give your guests something else...and then they start demanding that you bring it back. In an attempt to re-capture the magic of that plate, you push and stress and obsess. Mostly all you end up creating are poor amalgams of the original...until, if you're lucky (or insanely talented) you find your way back to something truly beautiful.

It's something that ive wondered about for a while. How does one attain perfection? For the longest time I was convinced that I wanted a 4 star restaurant. A place to make an attempt at being perfect every night. But lately i've felt like perfection has more to do with the people cooking and eating, and less to do with the people talking about it. Cant perfection be found in a taco, or a bowl of pasta? Isn't a fresh sand dab, or a warm pizza fresh out of the oven perfect in its own right? Have you had Tom McNaughton's cappelletti with crescenza, corn, and truffles? It's perfect. Have you had Daniel Patterson's "Earth and Sea" dish? Perfect. Have you had Oysters and Pearls at Luandry? Yes...its perfect. Shit, even Ryan Farr's zilladog flirts with perfection. Im inclined to think that perfection has less to do with composure and ingredient, and more to do with focus, commitment, and love.

Ruhlman wrote extensively about perfection in The Soul of a Chef. There's that quote from Thomas Keller about attaining it...how when you reach it, it becomes something else. Most chefs will tell you that it doesn't exist. Im inclined to disagree. You see, what really matters is that a dish is perfect to you. Even if you're the salad guy at The Olive Garden. If you can find beauty...harmony...and peace on the plate, then what others say doesnt mean shit. For years ive told my cooks that I didnt care if they were perfect--I only wanted them to try to be perfect. Now I can see just how much I meant that. At the end of the day, what's really important in your kitchen? Are you cooking for critics? Are you worried about yelpers? Or are you doing it from within? Are you doing it out of love? Are you doing it because you cant see doing anything else?


notes:
  • buzz aldrin and buzz lightyear. not the same.
  • maritess loves it when I wear v-neck t-shirts
  • broccoli di cicco and a soft boiled egg = the perfect mid shift snack
  • go buy the morning benders ep. right now.
  • podcasts are back next week!
  • only eating vegetables for dinner doesn't seem so crazy anymore
  • i get the feeling im going to have a lot of news for you guys in the following months
  • more thunder and lightning please. just not striking nick and janessa's house.
  • the twitter bbq was great...met new folks, saw old friends, drank a wide variety of booze, and passed around an enormous bottle of sparkling wine. thanks to everyone that came out--it was a fun day. Again next year? Re-caps are here (boobs4food) and here (lickmyspoon)

quotes and conversations.

"You wanna see my bare minimum? I'll show you my sugar lumps too."
-Corey. Wants to share.

Dega: New rule. If you call me Dega, you have to say "Degaba."
Me: Why, do you have swampy pants?
(that's a star wars jokes for the uninitiated)

Me: Did you know that if you plant a lobster in the ground you can grow lobster mushrooms?
Eddie: That's gross.
Merrell: That's not true. Is it?

"You should be pounding Gatorade right now. Or something."
-Dega.

"Coyotes saved his life."
-Camaal. Has a hilarious story about Gerardo being raised by coyotes.

Me: Gerardo, come massage Ponder's ass.
Gerardo: Deep tissue?

Me: How about a nice garden salad, or some whole grains?
Corey: I had a green salad for dinner last night. (pause) I lied. I had pizza and melted brie on crostini.

Me: Dega, I see you returned to the look.
Dega: What? What did you say?
Me: I said you're a stupid hipster and I hate your guts.
Dega: I hate you even more!

"Hey dude. I pooped on my pen."
-Corey. He really did poop on his pen.

Me: We should grate it on a sharkskin.
Al: I have one of those at home. I have a whole shark!

"If you wear an Ed Hardy shirt, that's a deal breaker."
-Mongoose. And he's right.




from top: figs, roasting, apples, fruit, snoopy, oakland, 4505 dogs, stay up late, dega, eddie, serg, kate, luis, anne, matt, ryan, joey, brandon, corey, the scene, cupcakes, porchetta, lengua, @coreynead

Sunday, July 19, 2009

The Clash.

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
-Kahlil Gibran


This week's
question: What was/is the worst clash you've ever had with another
person in the kitchen? How did you resolve it? Who was it?


zellicious@linecook2late for ??? once a kinda violent grill cook threw a trashcan at me,i secretly cut hairs off his "fancy" pastry brush everyday
afwalsh@linecook I was a 17 y/o punkass with some lip, he was a chef with a bad temper. Got a black eye and now I only ever say 'oui chef'.
adoxograph@linecook road the bipolar express for a while. Jumped off that car.
fiend394@linecookanother cook was having a bad day. He decided to open hand slap me for putting 2 grains of salt on his food. Fistfight after work.
wolvesmouth@linecookbouchon in vegas, this culinary grad came in and thought she owned the place, we had a screaming match, she minced 20# shallots.
shunafish@linecook worst run-in. CDC. got physical. he: 300#, me: 100#. calmly told him to get his hands off me. chef fired him next day.
beerandnosh@linecookmy first day ever working in a kitchen - I was a busboy - a cook held a knife to my throat. He was later fired for being an addict
randomplacement@linecookanother cook, angry I was made sous, he had more experience. tried to sabatoage me, daily, I kept catching him. pulled him of line
abohemian@linecook Idiot chef trying to tell FOH how to do their jobs, when said chef was totally clueless about how to run FOH
fromhils@linecook,Strangely twas about cookies, w/ head chef @ Puck Cafe SCP, notice givn. Obvsly a camel-straw sit. Really abt creative freedom.


It's my last year at VDV, and everything is unraveling. 
For a long time, things had been good.  My brigade was almost bulletproof.  The food was beautiful.  Our guests were loyal, and it seemed like the restaurant was getting busier every night.  My chef trusted me, and when talk of the new San Francisco restaurant came up he even mentioned the words "chef de cusine" to me.  I was soaring.
To this day i'm still not sure what brought me out of contention for the spot--and the truth is that im glad I didnt get it.  I wasn't prepared.  But at the time, when my boss started receiving resumes from CDC candidates, I was seeing red.  I felt humiliated.  Betrayed.  I knew the food, the ordering.  The brigade trusted me.  They stood behind me.  Whoever was going to come in was facing an intense uphill battle.  They would have to be a hard-core badass.  They would have to be able to throw down, and work harder, faster, and cleaner than the entire brigade combined.

This would not end up being the case.  My first warning came when I was handed a prep list for one of the chefs tastings.  It was full of nightmare items;  Chilean sea bass, every manner of out of season vegatable, and all of it written in barely legible, horribly spelled chicken scratch.  I wasn't shy about passing the list around to stir shit up...and my chef knew this.  When the tasting happened I wasn't just off, I was in Hawaii.  Chilean sea bass guy was hired and working in the kitchen when I returned home.

He was a nightmare.  There was some compassionate side of me that wanted to give him a shot, but his demeanor...the terribly homophobic and/or misogynistic things he would say...and a complete lack of skills on the line were tough to overlook.  He was insulting, lazy, and mean.  When I asked him about the chefs he had worked with, he called them all assholes.  When I inquired about what he put in a dish he was making, his de-facto response was "good shit."  When he trained on the expo, our kitchen would go down in flames.  The only way we could survive a service was by reading all of our own tickets....orders whispered to each other, food magically appearing on the pass...only to get cold while he tried to figure out where he was sending it.  It was just the beginning of a very dark period for the boys and I.

My life slowly became dominated by all of the negative shit that I felt about him.  It was all I talked about.  I was boiling inside.  There were a few really big blow ups between us...one time in front of the entire staff.  I pleaded with my chef.  How could he not see that I could outclass this guy in every aspect of the job?  What difference did his experience make if the guy was completely burned out?  Didn't it matter that the kitchen was standing behind me?  Days were filled with trying to clean up his messes; over ordering, allergy menus that were completely mis-marked, insulting everyone around him.  I decided to quit.  It was like someone I loved had cast me aside for a nazi/zombie/rapist.  So I did what I always do when im freaking out.  I called my Mom.

Mom wasn't happy that I was leaving my job, but she supported me either way.  Then she said this:
"You know, if he's as bad as you say he is, he's going to end up weeding himself out.  Just be patient, stick to yourself, keep doing your job, and see what happens."
So that's exactly what I did.  I buckled down, and focused on the job.  I stopped making about me and the CDC, and instead turned my attention the guest, and the wellness of the kitchen.  I pushed forward, and only a couple of short weeks after the SF spot opened, CDC was gone.  He had indeed weeded himself out with a toxic mix of sleeping in meetings, laziness, and temper.  Damage had been done, but we were at least able to move forward for the first time in months.

Kitchen clashes happen.  Cooking is too intense, and difficult, and adrenaline driven for them not to.  Sometimes these clashes are valid.  Most of the time though, they're over some petty shit that has little or no bearing on anything of actual value.  And the truth is that life is too short to get upset over some bullshit.  The truth is that you're probably too fucking smart, and talented, and mature to let yourself be drawn into the drama.  The truth is that if someone is so ignorant, you're probably better off leaving them be and just focusing on what's really important.  Life goes on.  It has to.  Don't let it creep in.  You've got guests to cook for tonight.


notes:
  • Speez got this email at Nopalito: 

    Learn How Make Your Recent Press Last & Last & Last ........

    Make your press in Northside SF on  5/1/2009 about "Rickie Nakano - the new-wave Bourdain" bring you real benefit. Easily and Inexpensively. Guaranteed!

  • What's up with folks that come in the restaurant and try to tell you how to cook your ingredients?
  • A Gordon Ramsey show is guaranteed to have three things:  dumb people, yelling, and Ramsey taking his shirt off at some point
  • September 5th.  Don't make plans.
  • This city has no good fish n chips

quotes and conversations:

"You know what she looks like?  In that movie Bone Collecter...she looks like Snoop Dogg."
-Mongoose

"I watch a lot of Sponge Bob."
-Ponder

"I bet her vajeen looks like sleeve of wizard."
-Corey

"I kissed a goat yesterday.  That didn't help either."
-Ponder

"You can never drink too much beer!"
-Merrell

Me:  You guys know about the history of Bastille Day, right?
Paul:  Oh, it is Bastille Day...
Merrell:  Isn't it French New Year?
I pull out my notebook to write down her French New Year line...
Merrell:  Please don't put that in the blog!
She grabs my pen and runs away...

"They look like they're bad boobs but with a good bra."
-Merrell

Me:  Hey Justin?  He's serious.
Justin:  What?
Me:  He shaves his balls.
Justin:  I've done it before.
Goose:  I just don't like havin' a rats nest down there....so that means you haven't been a hipster your whole life.
Justin:  Yeah.............................wait, what'd you say?


from top:  bloodhound with Ryan, Eddie, Jesse, and Corey; Maritess; Beers from Paulie; Mom and Baby; A crowded grill; Corey forgets shit all the time