2009.

Here I sit, at the end of 2009, and it feels like everything is different.  None of the details have changed;  I still live in San Francisco, and I still cook at Nopa as a sous chef.  I'm still writing this blog.  But when I look in the mirror, or have a quiet moment to myself, things feel different.  2009 was a crazy year for me.  It was a good year for me.  In 2009 this blog seemed to find its place.  Through things that seem as trivial as a twitter account, or a podcast, I met people and made friendships that are deeply important to me.  Through countless emails I was able to connect with cooks from all over the world.  As everything seemed to be expanding and moving towards one big interpersonal disconnect, the opposite ended up happening.  My world got smaller.  Then I turned 30, and came to realize that I needed to take life a little more seriously.  Soul searching, introspection, whatever.  I made some decisions, and decided to stick to them.  Then I woke up one day, and wow.  Things had changed.

2010 is a little scary to think about.  A friend of mine said to me "2010 is the first year I haven't been excited about."  I had never thought about it like that, and im not sure that's my sentiment.  But it does feel like a giant, scary beast that I have to tackle...like im getting into the ring with a faceless terror.  In the following year im going to to be faced with figuring out whether im a better writer or a better cook.  There's a chance that this blog could end in 2010.  There isnt an infinite amount of topics for me to write about here.  Sometimes I feel like im just regurgitating the same old garbage.  Add to that the fact that im going to be a father, and want to open a restaurant this year, and things start to get very cloudy and scary and im suddenly very aware that nothing feels perfect or right, but things just are.  It's an amazing thing to be faced with the rest of your life.  I thought I knew what it would feel like, and how I would deal with it.  I don't.  And I suspect that's perfectly normal.

The thing is, its not like anything is actually ending.  If anything, things are just beginning.  After a year like 2009, where things were so good and changed so much, I can only imagine what's coming.  It's possible that just being daunted about knowing that you have to make something for yourself is enough to leave you shaking...but maybe its better to try to run through all of the insecurity and bullshit now, before everyone is toasting at midnight.

So whats next?  What's going to happen come July, or next December?  Shit, what's going to happen next week?  Does the fear or uncertainty ever go away?  Do things ever start to feel right, or perfect?  Or is it more important to just let things happen?

My Best Meals of 2009:

• Coi
• Flour & Water, every time
• 5 Points
• Ippudo
• Freeman's

Places I Ate At, Often:

• Flour & Water
• Fish & Farm
• Out the Door
• Katana - Ya
• Nopalito
• Arguello Market

Stuff I Couldn't Live Without:

• A good pen
• The iphone
• My pocket knife
• A Moleskin, even if it is falling apart
• Friends
• The Pixies, TV on the Radio, Old Outkast
• Access to Twitter
• Flickr
• My Macbook

Culinary Fantasy League:
My Team:

• Raw - Michael Black
• Garde Manger - Jon Smulewitz
• Pasta - Micheal Tusk
• Veg/Garnish - Mourad Lalou
• Fish - Stuart Brioza
• Meat - Ryan Farr
• Sous Chef - Daniel Patterson
• Chef - Thomas Keller

Eddie's Team:

• Sautee - Charles Phan
• Veg - Jeremy Fox
• Garde Manger - Taylor Bottechier
• Grill - Ryan Farr
• Pasta - Tom McNaughton
  
• Sous Chef - Me (haha!)
  
• Chef - Jacques Pepin

Mer-Mer's Team, based solely on looks:

• Michael Black
• Brandon Jew
• Tom McNaughton
• Jay Foster
  
• Mongoose

quotes and conversations:

Me:  There's snowmobiles.  And guns.
Kitty:  Can we shoot guns while we're on the snowmobiles?
Me:  I guess so.
Kitty:  Wow.  It's like a Mariah Carey video.

(Merrell is hitting me in the shoulder, over and over again)
Paulie:  Isn't Savannah a pornstar?
(The hitting continues)
Me:  You know Paulie, not everything has to do with porn.
(More hitting)
Me:  What?!?
Merrell:  It's Ryan Seacrest on seat three!
Me:  Yeah.  I know.  Anyways...
Merrell:  THIS! IS! AMERICAN! IDOL!

Me:  Do I look like a botanist to you?
Gerardo:  I don't know what a botanist looks like.

"Mer-mer, if I gave you a titty twister and asked you to name five candy bars, could you do it?"
-Corey

Dega:  You're the boss.
Me:  That's right.  I am the fuckin' boss.  I'm the fuckin' Bruce Springsteen of this kitchen.  And you're my Courtney Cox.  I'm gonna dance with you onstage, which is then gonna turn into a lucrative sitcom career in the nineties, only to have you marry David Arquette and have it fall to pieces in the two-thousands. 
Merrell:  And don't forget the numerous miscarraiges.
Me:  .......



"I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a
psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a
chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?"
The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's
pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally
irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep
goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs." -Woody Allen, Annie Hall

You can't go home again. But you can eat dinner there.

It's two hours after service, and Joey, Angelo and I are standing in a cold, quiet kitchen.  Angelo is layering cured duck legs into confit, while Joey and I de-vein foie gras for terrine.  There's a hotel pan simmering on the stove with a thermometer bobbing in it; our poor attempt at sous vide.  We drink beers, and talk food, and even after a busy service there's a buzz in the room.  Everything feels good.  Simple.  Around 1am we cook eggs for each other, plan the next day, and walk out with a lightness in our step and our heads held high.  Everything is exciting, and constantly changing.  We're line cooks.  In a year everything will be different; but at this moment we're like a child taking their first steps.  We have the whole world ahead of us.

That year passes, and our collective faces have been washed over with a hard gaze and a stack of clipboards.  We're still killing it on the line and learning new techniques and flavors...but things have changed.  Instead of inspiring late night projects, we inventory, and code invoices, and drink.  Heavily.  Day to day operations have become less about growth and more about grinding away.  300 covers is no longer a challenge.  We take on new dishes, and try to out-technique each other, but for the most part the spark has faded.

The adolescence of your cooking career is a lot like your own adolescence.  You're confused, excited, your joints ache and you're probably horny all the time.  You feel like you're falling in love, every day.  It's scary, and fun, and your heart is racing so much that you start to worry about high blood pressure.  You obsess over cookbooks and websites the way a teenager obsesses over pop music and corny vampire novels.  You're just trying to survive, every day.  Is there any way to get back to this place?  To the excitement and hunger you had then?  Would you be regressing?  Is it even possible to re-capture that old feeling?

Every cook wants to become the chef; they crave the responsibility, and the control.  As you move up, you begin to notice something else:  Every chef yearns to be back on the line, cooking again.  They see their cooks, making constant progress, learning so quickly...and its almost painful.  Were you a quick learner that just feels average now?  Are cooks doomed to become that jaded chef that only has those sweet memories of the days on the line?


notes:

• buddha monk training.  not as easy as you might think.
  
• best western has a completely different meaning in our kitchen.
• one year on twitter.  dang.
• you ever go back and listen to the music you were into when you were 15, and realize that there are layers and lyrics you never understood?
• podcast season 2 sometimes feels like throwing confetti into the air and just kinda seeing where it lands.
• writing this was maddening, and part of me kinda hates it.
  

quotes and conversations.

Me:  OK Gerardo.  Who would you rather bone down with.  Adam West Batman, or Christian Bale Batman?
Gerardo:  Adam West?
Me:  Yes.  Adam West.  Batman.  Adam fucking West.
Gerardo:  Adam West?
Me:  If you were my kid, I would beat you.  I would just beat the fuck out of you.
Gerardo:  Who's the other guy?
Me:  Christian Bale.
Eddie:  Trick question Gerardo.  George Clooney Batman!
Me:  Of course it's George Clooney Batman.  I hate you Gerardo.

Me:  I had yogurt, granola, a bartlett pear, and 2 cups of coffee.  Then I ran three miles and did 200 push-ups and 200 sit-ups.
Eddie:  I had cassoulet and I boned down.  I win.

Corey:  Hey dude.  Can you help me make pumpkin or squash pasta?
Me:  No.  That would be...wait, really?  Pumpkin pasta?  I mean, I can help you make spinach pasta, or tomato pasta.  We could have tricolore pasta.
Corey:  Hey dude.  Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.
Eddie:  Hey dude!  I brought you chips!

Me:  Who doesn't like getting choked when they're getting humped?
Eddie:  (Raises hand.)

Me:  You  ever use that stuff?  Organic toilet paper?
Ponder:  (defeatedly) This morning.

"Go shave your chin and fuck off."
-Corey

Goose:  See that?  I make a little well..
Me:  That's a really good idea.  You're smart...
Goose and Me:  ...sometimes.

Me:  You never know.  You might like it.
Gerardo:  What's that?
Me:  Sucking dick.
Gerardo:  You never know until you try.
Me:  Well Eddie's not doing anything right now.
Eddie:  Certainly not getting erect, that's for sure.

"I think if I were gonna get a Mt. Rushmore themed tattoo, it would have to be of the bad guys from Superman."
-Maritess

Me:  OK.  You wanna see a tornado and go in the sewers.  What else is in your five year plan Gerardo?
Gerardo:  Lots of stuff...
Me:  Like what?  What the fuck else is in your plan?
Gerardo:  I wanna get my asshole eaten out.

Me:  I just don't get it.  It is spicey.  It says spicey fennel sausage on the menu.
Eddie:  You know who's to blame?  That Rachel Ray bitch.

Goose:  Mer-mer.  Can you bone down right now?
Merrell:  Yeah!
Goose:  Well I didn't know if you were still hurt or not.
Merrell:  Are you offering or something?
Goose:  No.  I just didn't know if you could do it.
Merrell:  If anything i'm more flexible.

"Isn't that narcissism?  When you just fall asleep?"
-Goose.

Me:  You ever hear of that?  People that use a knife when they bone down?
Corey:  Why wouldn't you just use your dick?


from top: cut, mangalitsa, the crew, stained, kozy, gouge away, add spice?, ramen, noodles, pork, where am i?

Podcast 2.6 - What is progressive?

What is progressive in terms of cooking?  Is it molecular?  Is it looking back to move forward?  Is it a bong full of whiskey?  This was our topic on this podcast, which was graciously hosted by Eddie Lau. (hotfoodporn.com) Amy Brown was there, as well as Katrina Dixon. (@ramekinparty)  There was food, and booze, and laughs.  Things were pretty loose for, oh, 15 minutes or so...but its all entertainment.  Enjoy. 

ps
If you want to play our drinking game, take a sip every time you hear the word "progressive."  You will probably black out.

Opening music is Mullet Head by The Beastie Boys

00:30 - Our worst intro ever.
2:43 - Eddie's fortress of solitude.
4:11 - Why are you making me look dumb in front of our friends?
5:15 - Bong sounds.
6:30 - You guys are making my first time really nice.
7:25 - Alright we're at 7 minutes, and...
8:50 - Well, i've never worked in an office, so...
11:34 - No dude.  Im protesting.
14:23 - Annnnd finally onto topic.  David Chang/Chris Cosentino/Chris Kostow 7x7 Panel
17:55 - Oh wow, we've got a subject!  What the fuck is progressive?
23:47 - And they're probably girls.
25:33 - The asparagus problem.
30:00 - We had to bring up Achatz.
33:45 - What's not progressive?
42:58 - I don't like looking at cookbooks...
44:30 - If you take a drink every time you hear the word progressive...
47:06 - Second devil's advocate of this podcast...
56:03 - Why would you buy the cookbook if not to cook out of it?
1:00:50 - Michael Ruhlman is a bad ass.
1:06:14 - I was typing angrily.

Moderation.

I used to love it.  Getting off work after a busy night, salt still sticking to my forearms, I would head to the bar with my crew.  Once there we quickly put away a shot and a beer, and another, and another.  Then Kevin, the server that had almost 2k in sales (half coming in wine) would show up, start buying rounds, and the night would melt into oblivion.  Sometime around 3:30 I would find myself stumbling out of a dingy cooks apartment, wondering how to get home without killing myself.  The next day we would all wake up in absolute pain, head into work, and sweat it out on the stoves with few laughs between us.  There was a pattern to it, and we rarely strayed from it.  It was our right.  We were cooks. 

The thing is that once you get into the cooks lifestyle: the heat, the stress, the camaraderie, and the eventual reward at the end of it all...it becomes hard to let go of.  It starts to become less about a reward for yourselves at the end of the night and more about your nightly plans.  Everyone's sharpness becomes just a little more dull...but you tell yourself that its ok.  The team is stronger now...closer.  Isn't it?

Eventually, things start to fray.  Your grill guy, who already has a nasty habit of a liter of Pepsi and blunt to the head in the parking lot before work starts making frequent trips to bathroom during service.  His eyes are alert, but his jaw and edgy demeanor tell a different tale.  The food runner that cant remember table numbers was up until 5am with him doing coke, and they're both starting to make your evening very difficult.  Manuel, your fastest sautee cook has started asking for booze mid shift to quell his hangover, and by the end of the night everyone has had a sip.  Two months later you're dumber, slower, and fat.  But fuck it, because you're a real cook, right?

But here's the rub.  There are a lot of cooks out there that are smarter, more talented, and far more driven.  And they didnt stay up until 5am last night doing coke.  They don't drink on their shift.  They are so singularly motivated to be the best, to move up, and move on that with every hangover you get, they're leaving you behind.  Think about the crew at Alinea, or Laundry.  How can there be room for the fog of a big night out when you have a 15 hour day and the standard of perfection weighing on you?

By nature we are indulgent people.  Our jobs center around taking care of others.  We're surrounded by great food, lots of wine and booze, and like minded folks that got into this job because the monotony of a nine to five was never a viable option.  Cooks that think they're just doing whats expected are at best, a cliche.  At their worst, theyre alcoholics, or drugs addicts.  There is such a great deal of discipline in our work.  Why isn't that carrying over into our free time?

It's important to find a balance.  It's important to not take yourself too seriously, and not let the pressures of the job cave you in.  I think it's also important to remember that at the end of the day there is a greater responsibility to your craft.  It's not just about the daily drudgery--there has to be a bigger goal.  Life isn't just decaying slowly. 

"All things in moderation, including moderation."

— Mark Twain

notes:

• there was talk this week of mongoose on all fours, wearing a leash and collar, being held by ponder.  
• no, there was no writing in blood on my mirror.  but thank you for your concern.
• oh snap.
• who knew that pork bones are so hard to come by?
• congratulations to Ryan Farr and Cessaly on the birth of their new baby boy!
• im down for composting, but this little green bin the city gave me just isn't cutting it

quotes and conversations.


I'm pouring molasses into a pot.
Me:  Black tar heroin...
Goose:  I smoke that stuff in rehab one time.
Me:  Goose, rehab isn't for smoking black tar heroin!  It's for picking up on vulnerable women!

"Abuelita.  I like Grandmas."
-Camaal

Corey:  Hey dude, if I were single would you bone down with me?
Me:  No.  (long pause)  If I were single would you bone down with me?
Corey:  Hell yeah dude.
Me:  I thought so.  Sorry about that.

Me:  What color is that guys fixie?
Dega:  He doesn't ride a fixie.  Didn't you see how fat he is?

Goose:  Who got the plastic wrap?
Merrell:  Yo mama.
Goose:  My mama didn't use plastic wrap.  That's how I came to be.

"I not that beautiful, I not that handsome.  But I am fucking chingon."
-Camaal.

"I guess for some people it would feel good to hold someone's cock, but for me it would be really, really strange."
-Mongoose.




from top:  soba, moleskins, farms up/hoes down?, figs and walnuts, snails in the spinach, they match, pappardelle, vongole, jellyfish, sloppy joe on bread, ramen stock, family meal showdown, ramen, noodles, a clean kitchen

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?
libertyhuang@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