Here I am, nearly 8 months deep into west coast living, and I've just now found time to write about the amazing experiences that brought me to this point. We can thank this found addition of a Saturday off work to a small battle between me, a rondeau, and the floor resulting in 7 stitches on my face- but a moment to sit down and write was long overdue. Since leaving New York, I've staged in 7 kitchens in 3 states, worked in Chicago, and have been at Flour and Water in San Francisco for the entirety of my time in California…it's about time for a recap.
In the summer, I'd taken a job at probably the most talked about restaurant in the country- excited, scared shitless, and ready to work harder than anyone else. I found out very quickly what I was willing to endure in order to learn, and what I wasn't; what pleases me about cooking, and what really turns me off. Working in a restaurant is hard- no matter which one you choose to devote yourself to- Michelin starred or not, it’s a grind that is incomparable to any other line of work, but each individual has to find their balance, and then draw a line.
There are some incredible minds at work in those kitchens, and I had the honor of working by their side for a short period of time and soaked up priceless knowledge- but that's not the life for me.
A few weeks into life at X, my Dad came into town for dinner where I spent the entirety of the meal gulping down tears while he curiously poked around at my new job. I didn't want to spill out all of the tears that welled up every night onto our table- I've always been a hard worker…If I can do anything- it's outwork the next guy. I couldn't possibly admit to not being able to get through something. But Dads are…Dads. They know. All he had to say was, "You're happiness is the absolute most important thing to me, the prestigious kitchen you're in, is not. And you should put your happiness first, too." And like that, everything was clear again.
There are some incredible minds at work in those kitchens, and I had the honor of working by their side for a short period of time and soaked up priceless knowledge- but that's not the life for me.
A few weeks into life at X, my Dad came into town for dinner where I spent the entirety of the meal gulping down tears while he curiously poked around at my new job. I didn't want to spill out all of the tears that welled up every night onto our table- I've always been a hard worker…If I can do anything- it's outwork the next guy. I couldn't possibly admit to not being able to get through something. But Dads are…Dads. They know. All he had to say was, "You're happiness is the absolute most important thing to me, the prestigious kitchen you're in, is not. And you should put your happiness first, too." And like that, everything was clear again.
Endure for a purpose. Endure because you love it. Endure because once the daily grind is over, while you’re taking off your apron and throwing it into the laundry at the end of the night, you better be smiling.
I only spent two more weeks there after that dinner but I appreciate every second in that kitchen. I learned what I value in myself, cooks, and kitchens, and what shakes my values just a little too hard. I learned what I'm made of there, and what I'm not. I saw qualities I admire so much that I'll never step foot in the kitchen without thinking of them first, and qualities I'd never let within a mile of my own.
Since leaving that restaurant, I had low hopes that was I was looking for existed- a place where intuition is listed on the job requirements. I know that the place I left is a finely tuned cash-machine well oiled to replicate it’s system across the country for the most efficient restaurants the world has ever seen…So if I knew that was right…could there be another way? If there wasn’t- you’d find me outside of the kitchen forever, but I was determined to at least look.
I searched the fields of Blackberry Farm again, finding lots of old friends cooking great food…I headed to California where I was exposed to ingredients I’d never seen before and spent long days picking chervil and cutting carrots in other peoples kitchen's with all different ideals until one hit home.
At first, his philosophy sounds pretty common sense. A chef’s job also emcompasses keeping the employees happy as well. While your cooks will almost always put up what you’ve asked them to- they will also put up a perfect dish every time when they’ve had a part in creating it. Chef said-
“I could say, Hey, this is the new pork and egg dish. It’s cooked like this, seasoned like that, plate it like this and put in the window. And they will make it look and taste pretty much like that every time. Or I could say to a cook- hey, how would you add an egg component to that dish? Think about it, then let’s talk about your ideas then we can try it out. Every single time the cook makes, and plates that dish- he has a personal role in it, a piece of him goes up with every plate. Every plate will be perfect that way too.”
Instead of fighting the creativity that harangues the cook to do things a little differently than the person before them, he harnesses that, embracing the small loss in perfection that you have to throw to chance and human error, and allow the cook to revel in the glorious craft we chose. Over and over again. I've been at Flour and Water since that conversation and can't wait to write about everything I've learned here and since I'm sitting out of work one more day- I might just get that done.
My hat tips to all those in kitchens of X's caliber, I will absolutely be in the dining room again, just not the kitchen. And whatever quality you have that allows you to endure- bless you.
And a little view from the travels that bought me, and kept me, in San Francisco...
Blackberry Farm
I can't describe how amazing it is to harvest your own prep. It was so nice to be back on the farm- brought back so many good memories!
Creative way to carry herbs- pluck out a big cabbage leaf!
Lardo and grissini
Getting ready to be smoked!
I'd never seen gnocci made this way... but...
Man that piping bag was smart...
It worked!
Ohhh Cheffy...Loved cooking with Chef Joseph again!
The farm, just as beautiful as ever.
A warm welcome : ) tasting of Ports
Old pals!
New ducks!
Heirloom beans that John collects through the years...
My favorite farmer!!!
Livin the Dream : )
Being back at the farm was like arriving at home. They were always warm there, but even warmer this time around. The familiar faces nearly convinced me to live out in Walland, TN again...but I was still yearning for a little city.
Some of my earliest kitchen memories come from there- I still have every single prep list I ever wrote during my stay. Anytime I ever smell thyme being cooked, I'm immediately brought back to a very vivid memory of my first time cooking lobsters in the back room... I will always have a place in my heart for Blackberry.
The farm has never been prettier, the food never as beautiful, and the people never as loving. If I ever get the urge to slow down and hang out in the fields snipping greens for dinner, you know where to find me.
Flour and Water
I thought those notes were so damn cool! Now it's kinda an everyday thing...I'm pretty lucky.
Standard. We take all of the face away from the bone, cure it for a few days, sous vide it for 48 hours, then slice it super thin for a pretty bad ass Coppa dish.
I was so smitten with the handmade pastas...These are the Brigante.
Saison
Probably the most impressed I've ever been in a kitchen. And the most excited. My notes aren't even legible as I tried to scribble in all the new things I was seeing and ingredients being used. Amazing, beautiful, deeeeliscious, brilliant, creative stuff goin on in there. Almost everything touched that fire...bones for stocks, desserts, me. Such a cool place.
Saison's other fire...in Golden Gate Park. If I recall correctly...we were grilling Spam.
Quince
Trio of Pastas. I didn't grab a lot of pictures at Quince. It reminded me strangely of Marea. It felt kind of like a parallel world.
And what really sold me on San Francisco...this.
