we.

we. cannot be contained by one definition.

chef.

what does it mean anyway.

but what i do know is this.

i found my calling. the first time i put on a chef's white double buttoned jacket i was home. and i didn't even know what home was. not ever. but i knew.

and that doesn't mean i don't doubt. that i don't falter and get lost and lose it. to be inspired is a grace, not a guarantee.

love does not promise.

life has no clock.

who you meet, what you see, what you taste, who you taste, words you read, music you hear, fruit you pick, who you watch, who learns you, who you thank, who thanks you, what press you get, what fame you have to live up to, what you chase, who you chase, contracts you sign, how you struggle, what you lose, who you lose

all of this is fleeting. memory. rememory d.

*

a few nibbles from my live tweets~

"Cuisine
is dynamic. Anything that uses the vagaries of ingredients, and that
those ingredients change, fuel innovation." David Kinch

Dan
Barber called out the concept of "trend-ifying" professional
cooking/cheffing by talking shut about our "Media Climate." nice. Word.

"Food
is ephemeral. It becomes a memory after you eat it. It should provokes
thought & make you learn something." David Kinch

"It
doesn't matter how good it looks on the beautiful porcelain plate/wood/
metal. If it doesn't taste really really good…" Thomas Keller

Next
dessert is about spring. We don't have rhubarb because winter is very
long. So we thought green. Green is the colour of spring. Patrice Demers

Instead of using sugar in apple sorbet we use the ice apple juice." Patrice Demers

What does a chef do? He cooks. And cooking is a craft. Cooking is repetition. And one must learn the craft. ~Thomas Keller

"it's the chef's responsibility to nurture." Thomas Keller

*

when we go to these conferences we rate ourselves, compare. we see who we aspire to be and those who we would rather die than become. we say we'll never sell out or we look for better ways to sign our soul off.

i went to learn what i know already. that i love my people. that i despise and desire the industry and i will forever be beholden to the craft. that the media is a hungry machine with no teeth and taste buds. it swallows whole like the cyclops, never satiated.

but in the fight to leap into its eyeless clutches or to pry ourselves from its grasp, we, if we open our eyes and hearts and minds, can see and feel and taste and smell and learn so

much.

we hear our words in the mouths of others. we laugh and we are understood. 

we learn from each other. we learn from those who speak the same language as us. whether the alphabet or the intonations are the same, or not. we speak the same language. when we pick up a knife or taste an apple or whisk a warm cream or build a story with disparate textures.

*

a lot of people these past days thanked me for writing eggbeater. it is an honor. thank you for working the line every night, and the ovens every day. thank you for upholding this craft i love with all my heart.

thank you for riding the storm with me. sfl

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malleability

problem solving aka solution oriented

communication

ego deflating aka humility

delegating

sharing

support

teamwork

initiative

self care

teaching

empathy

compassion

go gettedness

flow going

quick decision making

~

what else y'all?

what does one need in their toolbox, in their mental mis en place, in order to be strong enough to open a restaurant?

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what?

what do you do next?
when do you change your outgoing message on your cell phone to sound professional?
when do you get your clothes pressed?
when do you start doing research on the chef/pastry chef/restaurant/company you're about to interview with?
when do you start asking around about that chef/pastry chef/restaurant/company to see what your peers say?
when do you change your email address from sexkitten69@isuckhard.com to namemyparntscallme@notaol.com?
when do you research what restaurants are paying for that position in that city?
when do you work on your negotiating skills?
when do you take out a calculator and do the math? on a piece of paper?

when do you do YOUR fucking homework?

because, you know what?

if YOU don't do YOUR homework, why should I hire you? why are you wasting my time?
I have to do MY homework.
I can't sit on my ass waiting for my education to come to me.
if you don't do your homework, you look and sound like an asshole.
you are a shoemaker even before you cut your fingertips off or walk into someone carrying a pot of hot stock or get asked to leave the kitchen/restaurant/your station in the middle of service.
if you don't do your homework, what the fuck are you doing between the time of sending your resume and sitting down in front of the chef for the interview?
what are you thinking?
how are you preparing?

do me a favor? do all chefs everywhere a favor?

learn how to interview.
learn this before you learn how to tie an apron and hold a ladle.
learn how to negotiate your rate of pay. 
learn how to type into Google, "Paul Canales," or "Rachel Leising" or "Dan Lepard"+London.
this is how you learn about the people you're about to meet. know a little something about what they cook/stand for. think HARD about if that's the kind of kitchen you want to work in.*
especially if their name is in the Craigslist ad, you really have no excuse.

if you want to do extra curricular homework, check out ChefDB.com this is an incredible resource, especially if you want to see who worked where when and with whom. in fact, while I'm speaking on it, feel free to put your name within ChefDB {DB stands for Database} because then I can find you. what's great about ChefDB.com is that when sending a resume electronically, you can merely say, "for the rest of my resume see it online at ChefDB.com" and link to it. it's so easy. do it now. stop fucking around on Twitter and do something for your career.

you do NOT need to go to culinary school to get a job cooking/baking professionally. you can follow these instructions and get just as far, and possibly farther. and you won't be burdened trying to pay off a private loan with a minimum wage job. 

it's important to look at your resume before you hit send. are there spelling errors? are you applying for a cook position and it says on your resume that you are already a chef?

if you have absolutely no relevant cooking experience on your resume, say why you're applying for a baker/cook position. if you send a resume from another career, I, like other chefs, erase it because we don't know why, if you're a lawyer or an advertising exec or a professor of biology, you're applying for a prep or chef de cuisine or a butcher job.

*on the subject of thinking about if you really want to work for/with chef/pastry chef/restaurant/company you're about to interview with, you may want to think about your trajectory. you may want to ask for feedback about your resume– about the path your on, from a chef who's been cooking twice or three times as long as you have.

the reasons for this are too many to describe here, but your career is a series of steps you take to reach a goal. or goals.

I've seen a lot of resumes (at least 6 dozen) in the past few weeks, and some resumes are so haphazard I just want to ask, "Why?" I realize that the economy only worsens matters what with lay-offs and restaurants closing left and right. but think about your path. because you should have one.

I didn't "have a path" initially, but I was given some great advice at the very beginning, 

and I listened to it.

and I'm glad I did, because, even without a culinary school degree I've seen and cooked and baked inside of most of my favorite restaurants and for/with amazingly talented chefs & pastry chefs.

I am always honest in my interviews. but I don't disparage any chefs/restaurants I've worked for before. I give notice professionally and finish as strong as chefs/owners will allow me the opportunity. I do my math/salary/chef/owner/company homework and when I show up for interviews I secretly "interview" all the staff I come into contact with. I sit at the bar and ask the bartenders how long they've worked there. I talk to waiters and ask if the restaurant is busy. I have questions ready for the owners/chef and I present my strengths and weaknesses honestly. I know myself and I only apply for jobs I want, and want to dedicate myself to, and want to stay at.

because we don't just sit down and talk-interview for professional cooking jobs.
because we also "trail" for said positions.
it's utterly important that you do not bullshit or lie on your resume or in your interview.
chefs, like cops and lawyers and the mob, have channels.
we talk.
we kibbutz.
quietly.
we cohort,
and we 'ask around' after a person.
YOU can do the same thing.
find out about the not-so-public persona of the chef/pastry chef/restaurant/company you're about to interview with.
go to the restaurant under cover and even if you can't afford to eat there, watch the dining room at 8 pm on a Saturday night.

because we "trail" or 'present a tasting' before we get the job, it's important that you don't bullshit during the interview. because kitchens are X-Rays. especially we the insane pastry chefs. we will see through you.

if we're paying attention.

and if we're not paying attention to the fact that you know nothing and were too lazy to do your homework and did nothing besides hit send on a machine to get a job

then you shouldn't be working for that chef anyhow.

because you don't have time to waste.
because you have an education you need to grab by the cojones, that you then need to learn how to butcher properly.

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wake up every morning at 7 am regardless of how late/early you went to bed
wake up shaky even though you haven't touched caffeine in weeks
forget to eat until dinner time
don't know what day, date, season it is
forget what you forgot
start erasing more emails than you read, write or answer put together
start paying someone to do your laundry
think that the morning of today happened during a different week
interview and offer jobs in the same hour
make prep lists the size of your first knitted scarf you couldn't figure out how to bind off on
stop seeing your bank account drop in funds

start emptying your home fridge into the trash
stop buying food for your house
stop answering personal calls
stop getting personal calls
discontinue to commute/walk/ride anywhere that's not in your restaurant's vicinity
stop knowing what's happening in the world/your city
forget what 'news' is
forget what daytime looks like
stop eating meals and begin eating tests
forget that you own, or have ever worn, any other clothes but your whites
start looking at 'normal' people like they're zoo animals
realize normal people are looking at you funny
don't notice people looking at anything

don't notice anything

you know you're opening a restaurant when you
start missing yourself.

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Words evoke just as much longing– descriptions of out-of-season
fruit draped in light glaze; well-crafted recipes telling a story
beyond construction of the dish; a blog poking at the sore spots
and asks you to ask yourself some questions.

Words like this evoke a
longing for summer, and cherries nearly busting their own skins; a seat at
the table where that recipe-dinner was first served; answers to the
queries kicking around in your head.

Think of cupcakes at a picnic on a day so hot the frosting shimmies
off like a stripper shucking a thong. The only solution is to eat
faster, let the frosting land where it may, and tidy your fingers and
sugary lips with a half-moon of watermelon later on.

Think of the way watermelon smells, and then how woody and dull
its January counterpart tastes, swaddled in plastic while it makes its
northward journey from a warmer frontier.

Think of food blogs
written by someone just outside your growing region, where berries and
herbs and cucumbers and greens are ready weeks earlier–not so far ahead
that you're still enjoying whatever season you're in right now; rather,
just that little bit sooner, when it's been ages since you enjoyed
something freshly picked and are tired of hearty stews and stout
sweaters.

And, think of how unappetising a recipe can feel when the weather's
all wrong. For instance, the
Thanksgiving I prepared a three-day duck
stew. It marinaded, then stewed, reduced, sat and thought
about itself a little longer. And finally, on day three, was assembled
into a divine pie, to be served with dry red wine-braised bitter
greens.

A flash heatwave struck when I was too far in to turn back or
adapt, and I sought refuge in the 100-degree heat of my balcony, which
was immeasurably cooler than inside my flat where the oven blazed and
the duck pie browned and crisped. Fatty fowl, parching cahors, cloying
pastry, thick fat… nothing could sound, look or smell more revolting as
the season jack-knifed from  
true autumn to false-July.

Therein lies the beauty of reading and writing about food– a carrot of
the coming season dangled before you on the page; gambling that the
recipe will be all wrong for today; a chance for reading what impels
you to your kitchen to make a dish from memory. The way a little thing
about eating sends you out the door to the place that serves it better
than anywhere else.

*

Amanda Miller lives, writes, and eats in Toronto, ON. Her work appears
online at Well Tailored Cakes and Neckties, The Nervous Breakdown and in a guest piece called Salt Preserved Lemons at Kevin West's wonderful blog, Saving the Season, a site perfectly demonstrating "just a bit ahead of my own
harvest" model.

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it's because you do.

it's because you once did.
it's because body memory records.
it's because body memory breathes. lives. documents. stores.

just because you know a place. does not mean you can know a place forever.
places change.
places die.
places transform.
places grow old with you. and the same place, looks young to someone
else.

you think you know a place.
and then you go away. for a long time.
you visit.
when you can afford to.
when you cannot afford to.
and subtly, you see the changes in your place.
years go by.
you live in a half dozen places.
you try and call each of them home.

but you know where you're from.
you know who made you.
you know what made you.
you can never forget.
even when you drink
even when you cut
even when you hide
even when you run
even when you drown
even when you love

you think you know a place.

 it's because you do.

and now.
now is decades later.
now she's gone.
but you see her everywhere.
most of all, she resides in you.

and now. the place is yours again. and so you walk.
and walk.
and walk.

you think you know a place.
but it never hurts to re-introduce.
to explore.
to make lists. to go back. to show the city that's yours, that's home, that's complicated

to someone else.
to yourself.
you take yourself on dates.
notice. stare. look up!

this place you know?
this place you have known forever?
this place that has made you. fought you. scarred you. challenged you. held you close. never let go. never meant to—
this place that you have always loved? this place you have always feared? this place you have always tasted. even when you called elsewhere home.

this place is meant to be shared.

you think you know a place. because you do. because you can. because you want.
{you want so hard.}

you know it. you know this place.

it's yours to have.

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Crack open the green womb
juicy red fertility
within
freckled by black seed.

Touch the velvet surface
Feel
it ooze beneath
the pressure of eager fingertips.

Smell the
faint odors
of sugar cane and pollen
of hot summer sun.

Bite the soft
fruit
hear the crunchy chatter
of teeth on flesh.

Slurp
sweet red blood
runs down mouth
fingers
neck.

Lick the
last sticky dew drops
breathe summer breeze
Remember
how sweet, how cool.

-
Shelly Butcher

(circa 1996)

Shelly's wit, words & wisdom can be found at her own blog, An Open Cupboard & examiner.com & within the Wellfed Network.

As a reminder, while I'm buried alive by opening a restaurant in NYC, there's an open call for guest authoring on eggbeater! email me directly if you've got something…

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About two weeks ago Patrick Ridder called me, worried. He'd planted what he calls a garden but what any chef would call a small farm, and he has no one to sell its growing produce to. He got too excited, he admits, when he began buying seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds…

and now he has too much of a great thing on his hands.

Are you interested in buying any or all of it for your restaurant?

Patrick's garden sits on a dash of ground between his house on the levee, and the Napa River. About a mile south of Yountville. The land is CCOF Certified Organic, but between all y'all and me, he farms 'beyond organic,' meaning he doesn't use any nasties, not even the ones the USDA allows for Organic Certification.

You will not see Patrick at a farmers market. You will not see a stand by the side of the road. You will not even see a sign leading to the garden, or the fig trees, the cherry orchard or the grapes. Massa Ranch is not a U Pick or an advertised farm.

But, if you want to taste his okra, his 6 kinds of tomatoes, 4 varieties of eggplant, the best, most densely flavored Black Mission Figs from the ineffable Fig Church, roast his beets, make ratatouille with his summer squashes, char his peppers with fire on the grill or braise collards or slice melon or steam Blue Lakes or just wrap your tongue around Quadrato D'Asti Rosso {pepper}, Tondo Scuro Di Piacenza {summer squash}, Thai Long Green {eggplant}, Jaune Dickfleischige {cucumber}, Canton Long greasy-Back {pole bean} and more,

contact Patrick Ridder by leaving a comment here with your contact information. Or hit the email link on his gorgeous blog Root Cap.

Your information will not be published if you leave it here. It will be passed on to Patrick directly.

I hope you take me up on my fruit and veg pimping.

Believe me when I say you will not be disappointed if you do.

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The world is your oyster. Right now. As spring turns into summer. Before the holidays and after late winter's lull.

Restaurants have seasons they like to open in. They follow the moon, in a crazy sort of way.

And right now, the moon is very full, pregnant, in fact, with imminent births.

If you want to cook New York City, may I suggest you check in with Craigslist today? Whether it be in San Francisco, somewhere in the delicious deep South, or right here in the Big Apple, a city for which sleep is not needed, you might see a posting you want to answer.

New York is your oyster. Whether you swallow or chew, spurn or hoard, relish or retch, eat traif or not, come and get it while the gettin' is good.

{see you soon?}

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