In Boston, almost every restaurant offers "staff meal" or "family meal" between 4:00 and 4:30. Because we are feeding everyone with a "normal life", we cannot eat dinner at the conventional dinner time - early dinner is better than no dinner. However, some restaurants do not even offer family meal. I noticed this to be the trend in most restaurants in Denver and St. Louis in my travels. I have also heard of a couple restaurants that take money out of employee paychecks for staff meal (which I think is ridiculous).
In the French Laundry Cookbook, Thomas Keller writes a couple pages on the subject of staff meal. Keller reminisces about his responsibility to cook staff meal early in his cooking career at a restaurant in Rhode Island. He explains, "The staff meal cook was a low man in the kitchen heirararchy." At this restaurant, called the Dunes Club, his chef/mentor taught many fundamentals, including how to make use of scraps and by-products to create something not just nourishing, but tasty and pleasing for the staff. He writes, "If you can make great food for these people...then someday you'll be a great chef."
Staff meal is an opportunity to drastically decrease the amount of waste at a restaurant. At the end of the night, the mashed potatoes should be saved for the staff the next day if they're not suitable for customers, not thrown away! "Staffing" certain ingredients when they are past their prime but before they spoil is a great way to move product. In a restaurant that does not provide a family meal, what might be "staffed" because it isn't as fresh as it could be but has not yet spoiled will either end up on the customer's plate or in the trash. Either the food quality at the restaurant suffers, or waste and thus food cost is high. That alone is reason enough to provide staff meal free of charge to everyone who wants it.
In most restaurants that do provide staff meal, the servers and other diningroom staff get to sit down and eat, talk about the food, wine, and service points while the managers and chef "breif" them about the upcoming service period. In every kitchen I've worked in or witnessed, the cooks do not get the luxury of being able to sit down while they eat their food. Cooks are seldom allotted any break time to sit and eat due to the usual large amount of prep that needs to be done before service. I have had many days working in kitchens where I didn't even have time to eat staff meal, even though I had made it myself! A lot of this has to do with the general "I won't be ready for service" paranoia. And kitchen culture leans towards the idioms that "no one takes breaks" and "nobody sits down". As a result of these unwritten rules, cooks and chefs frequently spend at least 8 hours straight on their feet, without sitting down once. That takes its toll physically, and many cooks suffer from short-term aches and serious long-term back and knee problems.
When I become a chef, I will be instituting a mandatory 15 minute break for every cook to sit down and eat staff meal. Every chef should be concerned about their cooks' health. Plus, that 15 minute break will give them a bit more energy and ability to concentrate later in the night. During the sit down family meal break, we can talk uninterrupted as a group about how certain things can be improved in the kitchen. We can discuss our goals, both personally and for the restaurant as a whole.
I believe any chef who thinks this is a bad idea is blinded by the industry trend of what constitutes family meal. If it doesn't work financially, I am sure most cooks would be happy to work 15 minutes for free every day for the opportunity for a break to enjoy staff meal. I am aware of a couple restaurants that do allow and encourage cooks to sit and take a short break to eat their early dinner - L'Espalier in Boston and Charlie Trotter's - good for them, and I'm sure they aren't the only ones. However, more chefs need to take this issue seriously and make the move for a happier, healthier kitchen.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Done at Zinnia, had a great time
I was so busy over the past couple months that I forgot to blog about my experiences at Zinnia!
Chef Sean is a great guy, and he was very accommodating in letting me take the reigns and make some stuff for the restaurant that I have never made before. When I started, the restaurant was buying their bacon, smoked salmon, and pancetta and paying a pretty penny for what I consider mediocre ingredients. I started a little charcuterie program at Zinnia after my first couple of weeks there and now all of those products are made in house.
No restaurant should buy bacon - it's incredibly easy to make, it's much cheaper to buy fresh pork belly and do it yourself, and it tastes much much better. The only things you need that you don't typically find in a restaurant kitchen are pink salt and a log of wood, and both are easily attainable. I would estimate that with the method I've developed, it only takes about 15 minutes of actual work to cure and then smoke (without the need of a smoker) a pork belly and turn it into delicious bacon. The bacon that Sean was buying was around $7-8/lb and the fresh pork belly they get in is only $2.05/lb!
The smoked salmon was the typical store bought stuff you find at most restaurants, and it was also very expensive. A few weeks ago, there was a salmon entree on the menu, so I occasionally would take some two day old peices or one whole side of that product, cure it with citrus and fennel, and then cold smoke it over fig wood. This, like the bacon, also tastes miles better, is much cheaper, and has an appealing vibrant reddish pink color that the store bought stuff lacks.
Conclusions about working at Zinnia:
1) Upscale fine dining is not the type of food I want to cook for the rest of my life. The food at Zinnia is great, but food at this level and price point aims to "wow". I want to chef at a restaurant that I would want to eat at frequently, and that means simpler, moderately priced food in a friendly, relaxed atmosphere.
2) The people at Zinnia were a bit too focused on the media's impact on their restaurant, i.e. newspaper reviews and magazine blurbs. In my opinion, attention should be focused on pleasing each and every customer that walks in the door, not on reviewers, Zagat, and the like. If you please everyone who walks into your restaurant, and a reviewer happens to walk in, then you are going to get a good review.
3) Organization and communication are of utmost importance in the kitchen (and in the front of the house too). If a problem exists, it can usually be fixed by better organization and communication, and everyone should work as a team to find the solution.
4) The valuable employees are not the ones who just do their job, but the ones that are constantly thinking, "How can I/we do this better", figure out solutions, and communicate their findings to the chef, manager, and everyone else.
5) It is important to provide an environment for free exchange of ideas - where the people in charge will at least listen and will not react negatively to an idea that sounds strange. Chef Sean at Zinnia provided this environment better than any other restaurant I have worked at.
Chef Sean is a great guy, and he was very accommodating in letting me take the reigns and make some stuff for the restaurant that I have never made before. When I started, the restaurant was buying their bacon, smoked salmon, and pancetta and paying a pretty penny for what I consider mediocre ingredients. I started a little charcuterie program at Zinnia after my first couple of weeks there and now all of those products are made in house.
No restaurant should buy bacon - it's incredibly easy to make, it's much cheaper to buy fresh pork belly and do it yourself, and it tastes much much better. The only things you need that you don't typically find in a restaurant kitchen are pink salt and a log of wood, and both are easily attainable. I would estimate that with the method I've developed, it only takes about 15 minutes of actual work to cure and then smoke (without the need of a smoker) a pork belly and turn it into delicious bacon. The bacon that Sean was buying was around $7-8/lb and the fresh pork belly they get in is only $2.05/lb!
The smoked salmon was the typical store bought stuff you find at most restaurants, and it was also very expensive. A few weeks ago, there was a salmon entree on the menu, so I occasionally would take some two day old peices or one whole side of that product, cure it with citrus and fennel, and then cold smoke it over fig wood. This, like the bacon, also tastes miles better, is much cheaper, and has an appealing vibrant reddish pink color that the store bought stuff lacks.
Conclusions about working at Zinnia:
1) Upscale fine dining is not the type of food I want to cook for the rest of my life. The food at Zinnia is great, but food at this level and price point aims to "wow". I want to chef at a restaurant that I would want to eat at frequently, and that means simpler, moderately priced food in a friendly, relaxed atmosphere.
2) The people at Zinnia were a bit too focused on the media's impact on their restaurant, i.e. newspaper reviews and magazine blurbs. In my opinion, attention should be focused on pleasing each and every customer that walks in the door, not on reviewers, Zagat, and the like. If you please everyone who walks into your restaurant, and a reviewer happens to walk in, then you are going to get a good review.
3) Organization and communication are of utmost importance in the kitchen (and in the front of the house too). If a problem exists, it can usually be fixed by better organization and communication, and everyone should work as a team to find the solution.
4) The valuable employees are not the ones who just do their job, but the ones that are constantly thinking, "How can I/we do this better", figure out solutions, and communicate their findings to the chef, manager, and everyone else.
5) It is important to provide an environment for free exchange of ideas - where the people in charge will at least listen and will not react negatively to an idea that sounds strange. Chef Sean at Zinnia provided this environment better than any other restaurant I have worked at.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Landed at Zinnia in San Francisco
The past couple weeks have been busy for me, as I have been job-hunting relentlessly in the bay area. After a handful of interviews and a few stages, I decided to take job at a new restaurant in downtown San Francisco called Zinnia. They just opened a few months ago, and business is slowly picking up. The food is fantastic, the chef is a really nice guy, and all of the cooks are a lot of fun to work with. Here's the website where you'll find the menu if you're interested in checking it out:
http://www.zinniasf.com/
I took a position there as a morning prep cook. Recently I've become interested in being a prep cook for at least a short period of time so I can concentrate on learning the finer aspects of braising, stocks, receiving, and eventually charcuterie. The only catch is that I have to be at work very early for me, by 8:30 when deliveries start coming in. And the commute to Zinnia from Martinez is pretty long, so I have to get up at 6:30! Suprisingly I've been fine for my first few days, and I'm getting used to it.
Today, with the agreement of Chef Sean, I started a food literature library for the staff at Zinnia. It's an idea I have been toying around with for quite some time. Basically, anyone can borrow from the library at will, as long as he/she contributes at least one food-related book to the collection. When I become a chef some day, I definitely want to promote reading industry-related books to my staff, and I think this is a great way to do it. Good food writing can be hard to find, and it's not cheap. Also, I currently have a 1.5 hour commute to work on the bus and BART, so I will probably benefit the most from the library if the idea catches on and the collection grows like I expect it to.
-Ben
http://www.zinniasf.com/
I took a position there as a morning prep cook. Recently I've become interested in being a prep cook for at least a short period of time so I can concentrate on learning the finer aspects of braising, stocks, receiving, and eventually charcuterie. The only catch is that I have to be at work very early for me, by 8:30 when deliveries start coming in. And the commute to Zinnia from Martinez is pretty long, so I have to get up at 6:30! Suprisingly I've been fine for my first few days, and I'm getting used to it.
Today, with the agreement of Chef Sean, I started a food literature library for the staff at Zinnia. It's an idea I have been toying around with for quite some time. Basically, anyone can borrow from the library at will, as long as he/she contributes at least one food-related book to the collection. When I become a chef some day, I definitely want to promote reading industry-related books to my staff, and I think this is a great way to do it. Good food writing can be hard to find, and it's not cheap. Also, I currently have a 1.5 hour commute to work on the bus and BART, so I will probably benefit the most from the library if the idea catches on and the collection grows like I expect it to.
-Ben
Friday, December 26, 2008
Great Big Holiday Dinner
Lily and I are visiting her grandparents in Monterey, California. Lily's grandma didn't want to cook a holiday dinner for the family but did want to have one, so I volunteered my services. I put together a meal I am very proud of, and would like to brag about it. I had been missing La Morra recently, and decided to do a meal with a few things I had learned there. I normally don't thoroughly enjoy big meals that I cook like this because I am my harshest critic, but this time it was different. Maybe it was because everything was served at once, family style, with no appetizers, so once I was done cooking, I could sit back and enjoy it without having to get up again and again. Lily and I agree that everything came out very good, and for a couple dishes, we were hard pressed to think of anything that could be improved. I hate using the P-word (p*rfect) to describe my own cooking, so I won't.
Here's what was on the menu:
Brussel sprouts with breadcrumbs
I cut brussel sprouts in half and carmelized them all cut-side down only in a salted pan in olive oil. Towards the end I added finely chopped garlic and then tossed them with some aged balsamic vin. They were served room temperature, topped with breadcrumbs cooked in olive oil and garlic. This was inspired by a very similar dish we had at Pizzeria Mozza in LA, but mine was better.
Wilted bitter greens with blood orange, almonds, and goat cheese
I wilted mustard and dandelion greens in olive oil, and added some very finely crushed toasted almonds. When cool, I added blood orange segments, and tossed the mixture with salt, pepper, and the leftover blood orange juice. I topped it with some very good goat cheese, and also served it room temperature. This dish came to me on a whim, and it turned out to be really delicious.
Carmelized parsnips with savory
Pretty simple - I carmelized thinly sliced parsnips in butter and salt, then at the end I added finely chopped savory. I should have cut them a bit thicker, which would have allowed me to carmelize them more before getting mushy, but they still came out great.
Butternut squash risotto with sage
I made this exactly how I used to make it at La Morra. I sauteed large diced squash in butter and sage until just tender. Then, after sweating the onions, toasting the arborio, and adding/reducing the white wine, I added the cooked squash and more sage. As you stir and add more and more chicken stock until it's done, the large diced orange chunks loose some of their squash to the rice, which makes the risotto orange and even more creamy. I love risotto in general but this one in particular, because the behavior of the squash peices mimicks what happens to the arborio - as you stir the rice, a little bit of starch rubs off of the outside of each kernel, which aid in making the risotto nice and creamy.
Duck two ways with persimmon mostarda
I cured the duck legs in salt, thyme, orange peel, and garlic, and then confit-ed them the next day in duck fat. The meat was then pulled off the bone in chunks. The duck breasts were scored and marinated overnight covered in thyme and orange peels, and the next day the fat was slowly rendered off the skin and cooked in a pan. Both preparations were served with persimmon mostarda, a northern Italian condiment of diced fruit (in this case persimmon) that is blanched and then preserved in a sweet glaze with ground mustard seed, ginger, citrus, and chili flake. The duck leg meat came out a bit too salty, but the combination of the fatty duck and sweet sauce was excellent, and all of the duck's parts were cooked perfectly.
Roasted leg of lamb with reduced rosemary aged balsamic vin
I marinated a peice of boneless leg of lamb in chopped rosemary, garlic, and slices of lemon. The next day, I roasted the lamb in a very hot oven to a perfect rare in the very center (for a good variation of doneness between med-well on the very outside and rare on the very inside, most of it medium rare). I rested the roast, sliced it thin, and served it with a drizzle of aged balsamic that I reduced by half with a couple sprigs of rosemary. The lamb came out a bit chewy (leg is in general, but I probably should have cooked it at a lower temp for longer), but it came out delicious with a very nice crust.
Dessert (by Lily)
Lime squares
These are sort of like a cross between lemon squares and key lime pie. Lily made them a month ago, and they came out nice and gooey, and they were really good frozen. These ones weren't quite as good as they game out a bit more dense, but they were still tasty.
Apple pie with vanilla ice cream
Lily made the best apple pie I've ever had. She used really good, sweet pink lady apples, and just the right amount of sugar and cinnamon. The crust she made was otherwordly - it came out flaky, crunchy, buttery, and slightly sweet. This is one of my favorite desserts, and I had a second slice that I probably shouldn've had but couldn't resist. The only thing I regret is that she didn't make TWO pies.
That's it. Man, it's weird critisizing my own cooking. But hey, it was fun, and I thought it would be nice to share.
Here's what was on the menu:
Brussel sprouts with breadcrumbs
I cut brussel sprouts in half and carmelized them all cut-side down only in a salted pan in olive oil. Towards the end I added finely chopped garlic and then tossed them with some aged balsamic vin. They were served room temperature, topped with breadcrumbs cooked in olive oil and garlic. This was inspired by a very similar dish we had at Pizzeria Mozza in LA, but mine was better.
Wilted bitter greens with blood orange, almonds, and goat cheese
I wilted mustard and dandelion greens in olive oil, and added some very finely crushed toasted almonds. When cool, I added blood orange segments, and tossed the mixture with salt, pepper, and the leftover blood orange juice. I topped it with some very good goat cheese, and also served it room temperature. This dish came to me on a whim, and it turned out to be really delicious.
Carmelized parsnips with savory
Pretty simple - I carmelized thinly sliced parsnips in butter and salt, then at the end I added finely chopped savory. I should have cut them a bit thicker, which would have allowed me to carmelize them more before getting mushy, but they still came out great.
Butternut squash risotto with sage
I made this exactly how I used to make it at La Morra. I sauteed large diced squash in butter and sage until just tender. Then, after sweating the onions, toasting the arborio, and adding/reducing the white wine, I added the cooked squash and more sage. As you stir and add more and more chicken stock until it's done, the large diced orange chunks loose some of their squash to the rice, which makes the risotto orange and even more creamy. I love risotto in general but this one in particular, because the behavior of the squash peices mimicks what happens to the arborio - as you stir the rice, a little bit of starch rubs off of the outside of each kernel, which aid in making the risotto nice and creamy.
Duck two ways with persimmon mostarda
I cured the duck legs in salt, thyme, orange peel, and garlic, and then confit-ed them the next day in duck fat. The meat was then pulled off the bone in chunks. The duck breasts were scored and marinated overnight covered in thyme and orange peels, and the next day the fat was slowly rendered off the skin and cooked in a pan. Both preparations were served with persimmon mostarda, a northern Italian condiment of diced fruit (in this case persimmon) that is blanched and then preserved in a sweet glaze with ground mustard seed, ginger, citrus, and chili flake. The duck leg meat came out a bit too salty, but the combination of the fatty duck and sweet sauce was excellent, and all of the duck's parts were cooked perfectly.
Roasted leg of lamb with reduced rosemary aged balsamic vin
I marinated a peice of boneless leg of lamb in chopped rosemary, garlic, and slices of lemon. The next day, I roasted the lamb in a very hot oven to a perfect rare in the very center (for a good variation of doneness between med-well on the very outside and rare on the very inside, most of it medium rare). I rested the roast, sliced it thin, and served it with a drizzle of aged balsamic that I reduced by half with a couple sprigs of rosemary. The lamb came out a bit chewy (leg is in general, but I probably should have cooked it at a lower temp for longer), but it came out delicious with a very nice crust.
Dessert (by Lily)
Lime squares
These are sort of like a cross between lemon squares and key lime pie. Lily made them a month ago, and they came out nice and gooey, and they were really good frozen. These ones weren't quite as good as they game out a bit more dense, but they were still tasty.
Apple pie with vanilla ice cream
Lily made the best apple pie I've ever had. She used really good, sweet pink lady apples, and just the right amount of sugar and cinnamon. The crust she made was otherwordly - it came out flaky, crunchy, buttery, and slightly sweet. This is one of my favorite desserts, and I had a second slice that I probably shouldn've had but couldn't resist. The only thing I regret is that she didn't make TWO pies.
That's it. Man, it's weird critisizing my own cooking. But hey, it was fun, and I thought it would be nice to share.
Monday, December 15, 2008
A couple days at Campanile in LA
After trying unsuccessfully to land any paying gigs in LA, I went to a few restaurants in the city to offer my services free of charge (or rather, for food). Erica, the sous chef at Campanile, was more than happy to take me on for a couple days. Campanile is owned by Mark Peel, a well-known chef who was the opening chef de cuisine at Spago.
It wasn't that busy the first day I was there, so I got to work on the grill station with Erica. Campanile has a huge wood grill, which I have used before and in my opinion is much more fun than a gas grill (except for smoke in the eyes). All in all, the food was pretty simple and uncomplicated. I can't say I really learned that much that night, but that's probably because it was slow. I spent most of the night peaking at the guy on the next station who has been working saute at Campanile for 20 years. Quiet, fluid motion, no wasted movement - this guy was seriously invested in self-preservation by the way he moved.
The second night I worked was much busier - a Saturday night with three private parties. I helped out another sous chef, Aris, in putting out all the passed apps and half the plated dishes for the parties. I wasn't particularly impressed with any of the hors d'oeuvres we were putting out, and the mushroom risotto I was shown to replicate wasn't nearly as good as the version I cook, but I did like a of the items we were preparing.
In exchange for my services, Lily and I went to dinner at Campanile and were sent a whole bunch of food on the house. Erica started us with bruschetta and burrata, which was excellent, followed by crab cakes with remoulade, also good. Then came a pasta course - crispy fried trenne pasta on top of their version of ragu bolognese, with shaved parmesan for garnish. I liked the creativity of their version of pasta bolognese, but my heart still belongs to the version I prepared a million times at La Morra. We ate dinner on "sandwich night", so we got a braised brisket sandwich as our entree - pretty good, but the fries were excellent. Dessert was alright - a very sweet lemon tart and a tasty version of the ubiquitous molten chocolate cake.
The more Lily and I eat out, and with each place I stage at, the more I realize how far I've come as a cook and how developed my palate really is. The food at La Morra, which I am very thankful to have absorbed, is utterly, ridiculously underrated - much better than a lot of noteworthy and expensive establishments such as Campanile. Not only that, but the food we encounter at some of the restaurants we dine at is sometimes not even as good as what I cook in our tiny camper. When we're eating a nice meal at a good restaurant, I usually try and relax and enjoy, but most of the time I am noticing not only what can be better about a particular dish, but how it can be better, and I'm beginning to really understand the most important question - why.
It's becoming an increasing source of frustration that I can't just put all of my ideas to work and be in charge of a kitchen right now and do things right. I'm tired of watching other people doing things poorly or half-assed and being unable to say or do anything about it. I want to be teaching people how to cook well, clean well, organize, create, and take pride in their food and their work.
I think I'll be ready to be a chef sooner than I thought.
It wasn't that busy the first day I was there, so I got to work on the grill station with Erica. Campanile has a huge wood grill, which I have used before and in my opinion is much more fun than a gas grill (except for smoke in the eyes). All in all, the food was pretty simple and uncomplicated. I can't say I really learned that much that night, but that's probably because it was slow. I spent most of the night peaking at the guy on the next station who has been working saute at Campanile for 20 years. Quiet, fluid motion, no wasted movement - this guy was seriously invested in self-preservation by the way he moved.
The second night I worked was much busier - a Saturday night with three private parties. I helped out another sous chef, Aris, in putting out all the passed apps and half the plated dishes for the parties. I wasn't particularly impressed with any of the hors d'oeuvres we were putting out, and the mushroom risotto I was shown to replicate wasn't nearly as good as the version I cook, but I did like a of the items we were preparing.
In exchange for my services, Lily and I went to dinner at Campanile and were sent a whole bunch of food on the house. Erica started us with bruschetta and burrata, which was excellent, followed by crab cakes with remoulade, also good. Then came a pasta course - crispy fried trenne pasta on top of their version of ragu bolognese, with shaved parmesan for garnish. I liked the creativity of their version of pasta bolognese, but my heart still belongs to the version I prepared a million times at La Morra. We ate dinner on "sandwich night", so we got a braised brisket sandwich as our entree - pretty good, but the fries were excellent. Dessert was alright - a very sweet lemon tart and a tasty version of the ubiquitous molten chocolate cake.
The more Lily and I eat out, and with each place I stage at, the more I realize how far I've come as a cook and how developed my palate really is. The food at La Morra, which I am very thankful to have absorbed, is utterly, ridiculously underrated - much better than a lot of noteworthy and expensive establishments such as Campanile. Not only that, but the food we encounter at some of the restaurants we dine at is sometimes not even as good as what I cook in our tiny camper. When we're eating a nice meal at a good restaurant, I usually try and relax and enjoy, but most of the time I am noticing not only what can be better about a particular dish, but how it can be better, and I'm beginning to really understand the most important question - why.
It's becoming an increasing source of frustration that I can't just put all of my ideas to work and be in charge of a kitchen right now and do things right. I'm tired of watching other people doing things poorly or half-assed and being unable to say or do anything about it. I want to be teaching people how to cook well, clean well, organize, create, and take pride in their food and their work.
I think I'll be ready to be a chef sooner than I thought.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tacos el Gordo, Pizzeria Mozza
Though we haven't been eating out as often on this trip as we once were, we try to pick our spots when we do, and recently we've had some great meals.
San Diego has tons of great Mexican food, so I did some research decided take Lily to a cheap, yet awesome taco place called Tacos el Gordo. The concept is pretty simple - small menu, order from one of three windows based on what you want, pay at one register, and devour. At first, Lily was a bit disappointed that they didn't have chicken on the menu. I was more than happy with that, as they did offer a small variety of my favorite pork and beef parts. The tacos de cabeza and beef shoulder tacos were excellent - tough cuts of meat well seasoned and cooked forever. The tortillas were handmade on a griddle by a lady through the night, supplying the line with wonderfully soft pillows that soak up the greasy meat of your choice. The best tacos of the night were the tacos de adobada - pork meat marinated and roasted on a spit - sometimes called al pastor in some joints. What made el Gordo's version so tasty was that the flame on the spit was burning crazy hot, so the meat got nice and crispy before it was sliced off for a taco. Also, the guacamole on top was thin (cream added?), saucy, and delicious. We left stuffed for around $15 for the two of us - excellent value.
We're in LA now, which is a great food city for both cheap ethnic food and more upscale eats. This afternoon, between lunch and dinner service, Lily and I were able to grab a seat at the bar at Pizzeria Mozza. This place is one of the hardest reservations to get in LA, mainly because of who owns it (Nancy Silverton-Mario Batali-Joe Bastianich collaboration) and because the pizza close to perfection. We ordered an antipasti of carmelized brussel sprouts with breadcrumbs. It was a simple, tasty dish, but a bit over-the-top with the amount of vinaiger used. All the pizzas looked great on the menu, and we decided to go with the one with bacon, guanciale (cured pork jowl), fennel sausage, salami, and mozzarella. My expectations were set insanely high for the quality of the pizza at Mozza, and by God it was as good as I had imagined. The sauce was a perfect balance of slight amounts of sweet, tang, salt, and spice. The meats were all high quality ingredients. But the highlight was the crust - oh my the crust was otherworldly. Usually when I eat pizza I scoff at the crust - usually Lily eats it for me. But wow - this crust was crispy, well browned, and slightly chewy, and the occasional almost-burned air bubbles were a treat. Dessert was very good - a caramel copetta (tuile cookie undernieth gelato) with marshmallow sauce and salted peanuts. It would have been better if there were less salted peanuts - they made it saltier than it was sweet. We left full having for $43. Pretty good value.
Leaving Mozza, Lily and I had a brief discussion on cheap ethnic food vs. fine dining food. If you look hard, you can find some really great, cheap food in some hole-in-the-wall places. While the pizza was great and the atmosphere hip at Pizzeria Mozza, we had an equally great time and ate lots of great food at Tacos el Gordo in San Diego, and we could've eaten three times at the taco place for the price of the bill at Mozza. I find myself leaning more and more toward the cheap, ethnic options and avoiding pretentious fine dining food when we eat out. I find that, for some reason, the great food that blue-collar locals stand in line for has more soul and is usually tastier than what I generally encounter at even what I consider to be pretty good upscale/fine dining restaurants.
That, and it's much easier on the wallet.
-Ben
San Diego has tons of great Mexican food, so I did some research decided take Lily to a cheap, yet awesome taco place called Tacos el Gordo. The concept is pretty simple - small menu, order from one of three windows based on what you want, pay at one register, and devour. At first, Lily was a bit disappointed that they didn't have chicken on the menu. I was more than happy with that, as they did offer a small variety of my favorite pork and beef parts. The tacos de cabeza and beef shoulder tacos were excellent - tough cuts of meat well seasoned and cooked forever. The tortillas were handmade on a griddle by a lady through the night, supplying the line with wonderfully soft pillows that soak up the greasy meat of your choice. The best tacos of the night were the tacos de adobada - pork meat marinated and roasted on a spit - sometimes called al pastor in some joints. What made el Gordo's version so tasty was that the flame on the spit was burning crazy hot, so the meat got nice and crispy before it was sliced off for a taco. Also, the guacamole on top was thin (cream added?), saucy, and delicious. We left stuffed for around $15 for the two of us - excellent value.
We're in LA now, which is a great food city for both cheap ethnic food and more upscale eats. This afternoon, between lunch and dinner service, Lily and I were able to grab a seat at the bar at Pizzeria Mozza. This place is one of the hardest reservations to get in LA, mainly because of who owns it (Nancy Silverton-Mario Batali-Joe Bastianich collaboration) and because the pizza close to perfection. We ordered an antipasti of carmelized brussel sprouts with breadcrumbs. It was a simple, tasty dish, but a bit over-the-top with the amount of vinaiger used. All the pizzas looked great on the menu, and we decided to go with the one with bacon, guanciale (cured pork jowl), fennel sausage, salami, and mozzarella. My expectations were set insanely high for the quality of the pizza at Mozza, and by God it was as good as I had imagined. The sauce was a perfect balance of slight amounts of sweet, tang, salt, and spice. The meats were all high quality ingredients. But the highlight was the crust - oh my the crust was otherworldly. Usually when I eat pizza I scoff at the crust - usually Lily eats it for me. But wow - this crust was crispy, well browned, and slightly chewy, and the occasional almost-burned air bubbles were a treat. Dessert was very good - a caramel copetta (tuile cookie undernieth gelato) with marshmallow sauce and salted peanuts. It would have been better if there were less salted peanuts - they made it saltier than it was sweet. We left full having for $43. Pretty good value.
Leaving Mozza, Lily and I had a brief discussion on cheap ethnic food vs. fine dining food. If you look hard, you can find some really great, cheap food in some hole-in-the-wall places. While the pizza was great and the atmosphere hip at Pizzeria Mozza, we had an equally great time and ate lots of great food at Tacos el Gordo in San Diego, and we could've eaten three times at the taco place for the price of the bill at Mozza. I find myself leaning more and more toward the cheap, ethnic options and avoiding pretentious fine dining food when we eat out. I find that, for some reason, the great food that blue-collar locals stand in line for has more soul and is usually tastier than what I generally encounter at even what I consider to be pretty good upscale/fine dining restaurants.
That, and it's much easier on the wallet.
-Ben
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Denver Downer
Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but there hasn't been anything particularly exciting food-wise to write about. Lily and I were staying in Denver for about a month, earning more money for the road. She worked for her brother doing work on a house he is flipping. The plan was for me to quickly get a job at a good restaurant in the city for a month or two while she worked on the house.
I did my research and learned about the city's best restaurants and chefs, and spent the first few days in Denver making rounds at all those restaurants. I wanted to leave the city with a decent reference, so I told all of the chefs I could only commit to two months, but I'd work for cheap. I brought along my pretty good resume and a letter of reference from a James Beard Best Chef Northeast winner. Not one of them bit. Some of them sent me to other restaurants, thinking Chef SoandSo might need a hand. I went to 10-15 of the best restaurants in the Denver area, and nobody would take me on.
I realized I wouldn't get a job if I continued to tell chefs I'd only be there for eight weeks, so from then on I decided reluctantly to withhold that information. I was resorting to dishonesty as the only hope to land a job, and all the best restaurants in the city were off the board. Days go by. Each day, I am forced to be less and less picky, and the quality of the restaurants I submit my resume to drops considerably. I apply to a couple crappy pubs and sports bars who posted on craigslist, angry at myself on the way out the dooe. As the hunt goes on, I start to get really angry that none of these places have called me back. I nail a few interviews, talk to some seemingly cool chefs who seem like they're ready to hand me a job because I'm the most experienced person who's walked through the door resume in hand all week. Nobody calls back. NOBODY - and I'm pissed.
I'm pissed off, and depressed that I've been job hunting and interviewing for ten days with no job offers and only a few prospects from not very good restaraunts. I'm being led around in circles at some of these places. Each time I applied for a job in Boston, I was practically hired on the spot. I begin to realize a couple things about Denver. The first is that Denver isn't actually that great of a food town, and there really aren't that many good restaurants. The second realization is that a lot of the chefs in Denver are flaky, unprofessional idiots who have no idea what they are doing.
Finally I land a job at a restaurant with a laid back atmosphere, big closed kitchen, and a young chef who at first seems to be a cool guy. However, I failed to notice when I interviewed how filthy the kitchen was. So from day one, I scrubbed and scrubbed while the chef and other cooks took their cigarette breaks, read magazines, or stared at the wall. I volunteered to wash dishes a couple days when a dishwasher quit without noticed, and spent all my down time cleaning and organizing everything I could see. When I came back a couple days later, everything was a mess again.
The food sucked. The owner is stuck back in the 90's, still doing "fusion" stuff like sesame crusted salmon with wasabi mashed potatoes and tuna tartare (!frozen) with mango salsa, wonton chips, and avocado. I spent my time on the two man line like I always do - making sure everything was cooked right, seasoned right, and tasted good, but each time the guy cooking next to me was putting plates in the window a dog wouldn't eat, I died a little inside.
We ended up leaving Denver earlier than we originally wanted to. I'm not proud of it, but I skipped out with no notice right after I received and cashed my first paycheck. It's something I never thought I'd do, but I was fed up.
Well, at least I learned a lot from my Denver experience. First, I am not going to put myself in a kitchen where I have to lower my own standards. I'd rather be unemployed than employed in a dirty kitchen with subpar food, especially when there aren't opportunities for me to improve the situation. Second, job hunting sucks. From now on, I'm going to be much more selective of where I apply, and much more aggressive in landing those jobs. I am a good cook and a hard worker, and any smart chef would hire me.
I did my research and learned about the city's best restaurants and chefs, and spent the first few days in Denver making rounds at all those restaurants. I wanted to leave the city with a decent reference, so I told all of the chefs I could only commit to two months, but I'd work for cheap. I brought along my pretty good resume and a letter of reference from a James Beard Best Chef Northeast winner. Not one of them bit. Some of them sent me to other restaurants, thinking Chef SoandSo might need a hand. I went to 10-15 of the best restaurants in the Denver area, and nobody would take me on.
I realized I wouldn't get a job if I continued to tell chefs I'd only be there for eight weeks, so from then on I decided reluctantly to withhold that information. I was resorting to dishonesty as the only hope to land a job, and all the best restaurants in the city were off the board. Days go by. Each day, I am forced to be less and less picky, and the quality of the restaurants I submit my resume to drops considerably. I apply to a couple crappy pubs and sports bars who posted on craigslist, angry at myself on the way out the dooe. As the hunt goes on, I start to get really angry that none of these places have called me back. I nail a few interviews, talk to some seemingly cool chefs who seem like they're ready to hand me a job because I'm the most experienced person who's walked through the door resume in hand all week. Nobody calls back. NOBODY - and I'm pissed.
I'm pissed off, and depressed that I've been job hunting and interviewing for ten days with no job offers and only a few prospects from not very good restaraunts. I'm being led around in circles at some of these places. Each time I applied for a job in Boston, I was practically hired on the spot. I begin to realize a couple things about Denver. The first is that Denver isn't actually that great of a food town, and there really aren't that many good restaurants. The second realization is that a lot of the chefs in Denver are flaky, unprofessional idiots who have no idea what they are doing.
Finally I land a job at a restaurant with a laid back atmosphere, big closed kitchen, and a young chef who at first seems to be a cool guy. However, I failed to notice when I interviewed how filthy the kitchen was. So from day one, I scrubbed and scrubbed while the chef and other cooks took their cigarette breaks, read magazines, or stared at the wall. I volunteered to wash dishes a couple days when a dishwasher quit without noticed, and spent all my down time cleaning and organizing everything I could see. When I came back a couple days later, everything was a mess again.
The food sucked. The owner is stuck back in the 90's, still doing "fusion" stuff like sesame crusted salmon with wasabi mashed potatoes and tuna tartare (!frozen) with mango salsa, wonton chips, and avocado. I spent my time on the two man line like I always do - making sure everything was cooked right, seasoned right, and tasted good, but each time the guy cooking next to me was putting plates in the window a dog wouldn't eat, I died a little inside.
We ended up leaving Denver earlier than we originally wanted to. I'm not proud of it, but I skipped out with no notice right after I received and cashed my first paycheck. It's something I never thought I'd do, but I was fed up.
Well, at least I learned a lot from my Denver experience. First, I am not going to put myself in a kitchen where I have to lower my own standards. I'd rather be unemployed than employed in a dirty kitchen with subpar food, especially when there aren't opportunities for me to improve the situation. Second, job hunting sucks. From now on, I'm going to be much more selective of where I apply, and much more aggressive in landing those jobs. I am a good cook and a hard worker, and any smart chef would hire me.
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