eggbeater

pastry chef roles, styles, challenges. part 1

1. How many restaurants do you frequent per month? ___
2. What percentage of them have a chef? ___
3. What percentage of those that have chefs also have a pastry chef? ___
4. What percentage of those restaurants with both chef and pastry chef do you feel you are eating a seamless meal? ___

By seamless I mean: if your meal was a sentence would it be grammatically correct? If your meal was a fitted shirt would the neck be tight but the sleeves perfect? If your meal was a portrait would the subject be blurry and the back ground in focus? If your meal was a house would the bedrooms be a dimly lit, the kitchen tiny and the bathroom an outhouse? If your meal was a vacation would the last days be better than the first or would you wish never to return?

Whether you're in the camp calling cooking art or craft, all sides agree chefs use ingredients and cooking styles to tell a story, to share a thought, to hone an idea, to take you home, to create memory, to woo, to change or solidify or blow your mind.

In kitchens where there's more than one chef, and therefore more than one point-of-view, how many directions can a meal take you? How many directions do you want to be pulled?

Do you prefer a meal where the end of the sentence completes the initial thought or don't you mind being brought to your edge only to leave sticky but not satiated?

These are some of the questions chefs and pastry chefs ask of each other, and thus the diner, when they get into bed together. Well, not literally.

My hope is dessert finishes the sentence savory starts.

My best restaurant pastry chef jobs have been collaborative. I don't believe the last course can be made in a vacuum. A lot of savory chefs I've worked with want nothing to do with pastry and are more than happy to keep themselves oblivious. While this might feel nice-- to be allowed unbothered space with which to "do our thang," it rarely makes for growth. For either side.

I don't believe savory chefs should always be the boss of pastry chefs. Radical? Maybe. If we're both chefs--meaning we're both in charge of our teams and at the top of our respective fields, why should savory be the umbrella under which all other managers reside? I know a lot of pastry chefs with more years and experience than the savory chefs they work with.

It is important that pastry chefs have some experience in the savory realm and savory chefs do the same. Neither side wants to listen to the other when neither one has sought knowledge for that which they are attempting to correct/weigh in on/steer. It's easy to taste a soup and say you don't like it but can you pick out its nuances? Can you do the same for a sorbet? Do you know why one day a gnocchi floats and why another day it disintegrates? Do you know what ingredient's incorrect temperature causes a chocolate chip cookie to spread?

When was the last time you ate a meal in the restaurant where you work? Have you eaten any of your dishes, sweet or savory, start to finish? Meaning not just picked at the various components here and there but really sat down with the silverware you tell the waiters to mark the table with, and eaten it the way you hope a diner will?

Do you think the menu makes sense, from beginning to end? Does your food suit the clientele? Does it really?

Sometimes we have to let go of "the food we want to make" to accommodate "the food our clientele wants." Sometimes we have to take off a flourish no one eats, or condense a menu because indecisive diners make for less table turns. Sometimes we have to change our price point because the check average is scarily low, and sometimes we get to count our blessings when the stars align and everyone orders what we didn't think they'd be brave enough to and for that day we can embrace the warm fuzzies.

I don't believe I have a savory chef soul-mate out there. Or I do, but I don't believe there's only one. But I do think it's important to be in a kitchen where a conversation, with more questions than answers, is taking place.

Savory and pastry chefs who ignore or shun or tamp down or fight against or compete maliciously with or work independently of each other are doing a disservice to themselves, their food, their growth as chefs and the menu/dining experience as a whole. Some beginnings are so dissimilar from endings one wonders if the pastry chef and savory chef have ever even met.

It's a wonderful learning experience to cook in a kitchen with a great savory and pastry team. If you work in one of them, take advantage of all the corners of it! No one cook or chef or commis or sous chef should feel they can no longer ask questions or learn more or get a refresher lesson. Even if it's in diplomacy.

Killed By Dessert.

On January 16, 2012 Bill Corbett, Lincoln Carson, Francisco Migoya, Christina Tosi, Brooks Headley, and Michael Laiskonis put together an epic dinner of dessert. Aptly named Killed By Dessert, the affair was intimate, attended by 60 people. I offered my services as photographer/documentarian. And I am so grateful I did.

I took 800 photographs in about 10 hours.
One hundred sixty six of them can be seen on Flickr.

The best words on the event were the ones they put together themselves. You can read those words, that collaborative 'manifesto' on Michael Laiskonis' blog.

 

But because the photographs are without descriptions or a timeline-the menu:

Yes, you woulda been killed too...

 

"Oasis at Three O'Clock in the Morning"

Falafel, Pine Nut Hummus, Flat Bread

Bill Corbett

 

"Brupper"

English Muffin, Black Pepper Butter, Caramelized Onions, Soft Poached Egg, Pea Shoots

Christina Tosi

 

“Wish That I Had Been Born Into It”

Latkes, Smoked Salmon, Caviar and Rose Champagne

Lincoln Carson

 

“Time”

Dashi-Braised Short Rib, Bone Marrow

Michael Laiskonis

 

Mole Negro de Oaxaca

Duck and Corn Tortillas

Francisco Migoya

...

 

“Just Plain Vanilla”

Supported by Mandarin, Buddha’s Hand, Coriander

Lincoln Carson

Delamotte Rose Champagne

 

Butterscotch Semifreddo, Tony Style

Brooks Headley

Delamotte Rose Champagne

 

“Words”

Tarte Tropezienne a la Façon Thorne

Michael Laiskonis

Delamotte Rose Champagne

 

Napoleon Trimmings

Caramelized Puff Pastry Shards, Just-Made Mousseline Cream

Francisco Migoya

Rosa Regale, Brachetto

"Cornflake Cookie Dough Should Make Up 91% of Everyone's Daily Intake, Not Just Mine"

Fresh Cookie Dough, Cookie Puree, Warm Cookie, Cereal milk

Christina Tosi

Domaine Weinbach, Gewürztraminer, Cuvee Theo 2009

 

"My Family's Lack of a Culinary Legacy" aka "The Only Thing My Mom Ever Taught Me How to Make"

Peanut Butter and Banana Sandwich

Bill Corbett

Kracher Beerenauslese, 2008

 

"I was Too Picky of a Kid to Ever Understand PB&J"

Crock Pot Cake, Warm Pickled Strawberry Jam, Peanut Butter Halvah, Sweet Cream

Christina Tosi

Kracher Beerenauslese, 2008

 

INTERMEZZO

Brooks Headley

 

"Peaks and Valleys"

Milk Chocolate, Tarragon, Hazelnut

Bill Corbett

Warre’s Otima 10 Year Tawny Port

 

Melanzane E Cioccolato, Tableside

Brooks Headley

Warre’s Otima 10 Year Tawny Port

 

Coffee Éclair

Francisco Migoya

Knob Creek Bourbon and Coffee Ice Cube

 

“The Beginning of the End, aka The Old Fashioned”

Orange, Toffee, Smoked Vanilla, Praline, Bourbon

Lincoln Carson

Knob Creek Bourbon and Coffee Ice Cube

 

“Ritual”

Caramel Coffee Parfait

Michael Laiskonis

Lamill Coffee

 

nyc sweet eating/dessert news.

if a city could have a business card, new york's might read:

nyc, not for the meek.
nyc, fuck the economy.
nyc, you think you know me?
nyc, i'm not what you think. i'm so much more.
nyc. yeah you heard that right.
nyc, whatchu looking at?!
nyc::everchanging.
{untitled} NYC.
nyc. full stop.
nyc. call me, i won't call back.
nyc; not the girl nextdoor.
nyc: many places to many more people.

living in new york city, again, is exciting. full of newness, full of preserving the old, full of possibilities, full of contradiction,      bursting with now and again.

i've always said there's more food press in nyc than any city i've cooked in. it is with these little blurbs here & there that I keep my nose out and about, even though i work in a basement most of my waking hours.

i thought i'd share some tidbits in my bakery & sweet eating adventuring...

perhaps the newest, smallest bakery on the scene is Zucker Bakery on east 9th street beetw 1st - A ave. I have no idea, at the ridiculously low prices she's charging, how she'll pay rent... But check out the perfect rugelach and chocolate ball cookies that look like truffles and taste like lamingtons.

i've recently had the pleasure of eating Jenny McCoy's desserts at Craft. they are seasonal, thoughtful, flavorful and deeply satisfying, in a soulful way. you can go just for dessert! don't miss her perfect ice cream, sherberts & sorbet.

i know a person is not supposed to pick a favorite popsicle. they're all great. especially here, now. but i like New Yorkina best. i like the chunks. i like the heat. i like the balance. i like the logo. i have a professional crush on the owner. her paletas book is fantastic too. i keep it by my bed.

i'm still a fan of Bakeri in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. i love taking myself on a date and getting a sandwich. it gives me an excuse to buy far too many pastries than would suit a single diner. but, i will admit to cheating on this neighborhood bakery with an unofficial bakery... The baked goods at Blue Bottle Coffee on Berry street, just a few blocks away. if you're in the neighborhood, eat at La Superior {the best Mexican Scallions in the universe} and then you can get 2 of everything at Blue Bottle. You will die unsatisfied if you don't eat Stout coffee cake and muster up the courage for the chocolate stout ice cream affogato. seriously. died-and-light-sped-to-heaven manna.

speaking of panty-remover food--> get off your computer right now, and leave your job if you work in nyc, and sprint down to Stumptown* at the Ace Hotel for one [or 2 if you're like me-- one for now, one for the now in a few minutes] drop dead gorgeous ridiculously delicious PISTACHIO PASTE CROISSANT. I hear that they're made by Milk Bar, but they won't answer my queries, {I'm too small fry for their kind}, so I can't confirm the heresay. No matter. if it's your lucky day [meaning i don't get there before you], you can thank me. or slap me. depending on how you react to XXX pleasure.

*for full disclosure i am no longer a fan of stumptown coffee. i have been converted to La Colombe. and now i can never go back.

while not in NYC, Masachusettes' Cape Cod got really lucky when it somehow attracted PB Boulangerie to it's shore. best "american" croissant i've had in years. too bad it's a 6 hour drive away...

not like Liz Quijada needs any press from me, but her baked goods at Abraco [the BEST espresso in nyc. yes, i said it. go ahead, don't believe me. more for me.] on east 7th street, close to 1st avenue are sublime, intuitive, quiet, simple, delicious creatures. again, not a 'bakery' per se, but no matter. go there. early. get the orange blossom water & ricotta babka and tell me i'm not wrong.

some foods, while not sweet, in the sugar sense of the word, need mention.

i was recently one of 9 people at a going away dinner for a Momofuku Noodle Bar waiter and boy do they know how to treat their people right! i ate so many things for the first time i need 4 hands. pig's tail delish, to mix metaphors. if you find the time to be on hold with what i hear is their insane phone reservation system, get the FRIED CHICKEN DINNER. whatever Koreans do to chicken skin, my jewish people can only guess. my hat bows in y'all's direct direction. no joke. zow. delicious beyond compare. and we're not talking stupis little wings with no meat at Momofuku Noodle Bar.

ISA. you have to go there to understand. my words will not do justice to chef Ignacio Mattos, owner/builder/architect/visionary Taavo Somer and their perfect union/collaboration/restaurant. my meal was transcendant. moving. joyous. soulful. brooklyn is lucky. just got better.

speaking of ignacio mattos! he introduced me to O Cafe, not just another 3rd wave cafe. if you're vegetarian [or not], if you're looking for non-Italian coffee culture {yes! it does exist!}, if you're looking for baked goods you may have never heard of, if you're looking for cared for, well-made, fresh, seasonal, reasonably priced light lunch or snacks, go here. the west village can be a bit dreadful, food wise, if you don't know about the crevices.

you might already know how much i love Buvette. i go there on almost all of my weekends. it's not food i get tired of. i wish i did, because then i could try some other restaurants on my radar. while not sweet there is a dish there that changed my life. it sounds like nothing lifechanging though. butter & anchovy toast. i can't explain. don't make me ruin the experience with words. you just have to trust me. there are only 2 desserts at Buvette, but really There Is Only One. chocolate mousse. fuck your diet, this is nyc. i could go on about all the other dishes i always get, but i won't. if you must know-- ask me in the comments section where i have more room to gush.

lastly, i've been up to too much at Peels. not only do i run a bakery inside the restaurant, i'm now responsible for making all the dessert options for Freemans' [our sister restaurant] private dining.

so, in turn, with this last menu change, i increased the Peels bakery by about 25%, not to mention adding a few new items & old favorites to the plated dessert menu.

what i'm most excited about:

six tiny tarts for $12. big thimble sized 'pies,' at 1-2 bites each could be, on any given night, any new or quirky flavor we come up with. yes, you could order them for your next partay. just give us 72 hours notice. the most we;ve made is 700 for the StarChefs event at the beginning of the month.

snickerdoodle ice cream sandwich with arroz con leche sherbert.  Greenmarket apple pie sweetened with apple cider reduction. pistachio-almond macaron with assorted familiar and bizarre fillings... well maybe not eye of newt & batswing, but you get the drift.

        MINCE TARTLETTES! yes! British [vegetarian] Mince on New Amsterdam soil! ($3)

Gluten-Free whole orange & almond cakette [all cakettes are $3] with sour cream cheese frosting. snowball look-alike coconut cream filled cakette.

roasted red sensation pear-chestnut-been pollen crisp tart with spelt-toasted flour & oat crisp topping with chestnut-hokey pokey ice cream.

and a whole slew of packaged items~ Lyle's Golden Syrup caramels, dulce de leche blondies, almond - fruit buttons, tiny chocolate & sea salt cookies, caramelized white chocolate blondies, nut & processed sugarfree granola, valrhona milk chocolate texturally explicit candy {think + feuillitene, rice krispies, maldon,
fried kasha, hokey pokey, cocoa nibs, dried sour cherries and anything else we can think of to throw in.

whole lemon marmalade bars atop brown butter shortbread.

if you live anywhere in or close to nyc i hope you'll consider letting us do [some? all?] your holiday baking. on or close to november first, i'm hoping our website will have our holiday offerings linked in. but of
course if you have questions you can always use the old fashioned machine. the landline telephone.

end note[untitled]

having no idea what kind of art you enjoy/relate to/are inspired by, i myself have recently been introduced to, and fallen in deep like with the work of richard serra. if you need to get out of town, but you don't have a car or love train rides that take you up the hudson river, may i suggest DIA Beacon? or if you're in town and walking along the High Line {my favorite place
in nyc}, consider taking the elevator down 23rd street and opening the big doors of Gagosian Galleries and walking through the massive curves known as richard serra's work. you have until
november 26th.

Food52 Hones In On Custard Making, with me, at Peels {Pastrylandia}

A long standing aversion to being inside fast whizzing frames, aka TV & film, has recently been challenged, in the best possible way.

Amanda Hesser & Merrill Stubbs, the incredibly energetic, lively, smart, generous, silly, gorgeous women behind & inside Food52 entered the Peels pastry kitchen [aka Pastrylandia] and made a video of me making Butterscotch Pot de Creme.

But instead of airing one video of it all, they've broken it up into 5 parts!

Part 1 is all about Vanilla Sugar and in Part 2 I address how to achieve silky smooth voluptuous soft silken delicate custard. For Parts 3-5, keep connected to Food52's Video link.

 

NY 1, Rachel Wharton of Edible Manhattan & Shuna Lydon of Peels Restaurant

all in one neat package,

Edible: East Village Bakery Uses Sweet Elements Of Surprise

on TV,

for your viewing pleasure.

I must say, for the record, what an absolute pleasure and honor it was to work with Rachel Wharton! She is as smart and beautiful and funny and silly and lively and dynamic and down-to-earth as she appears here.

Coming from the Bay Area I had no preparation for the serious, thick, "glossy," thorough magazines that are Edible Manhattan & Edible Brooklyn. They're doing some fine work. Especially considering all that's going on food-wise in the little big apple.

enjoy.

 

Kelly Choi, Shuna Lydon, Peels Spicy Ginger Cake & Pastrylandia on TV, NYC

It's not every day someone famous calls you up and asks you if you'll be on TV with them to talk about one of  your favorite recipes.

For this I, and my nervous system, are eternally grateful.

It was great fun, don't get me wrong, once the lights were on and my sharp, beautiful, smart, funny, adept gracious director, Kelly Choi, was telling me what to do and getting me to talk about food and spices and why gingerbread and ginger cake should be spicy, not flat, all was well in the world. We even really baked one together! And really ate it! Not just on TV.

And not just any TV, but on the little televisions now in every New York City yellow cab. On Thanksgiving.

If you watch it yourself you'll also get to have a peek into Pastrylandia! It's my pet name for my not-so-diminuitive pastry/bakery station/production area below sea level on Joey Ramone place and 2nd street, on the Bowery: home of Peels, my new home.

 

 

Pie Off Winter X Games 2010, Bay Area, CA

you might remember when I was a Pielebrity, aka a Pie Contest Judge for this fantastic fellow in 2008... Just in case you can make it to 2010~

friends,

in these final weeks of fine-tuning our recipes for the upcoming gala, it becomes necessary that we review some of the basic event parameters.  in so doing, we provide competitors and spectators alike the appropriate amount of time to compose complaint letters, construct picket signs and so on. 

as many of you know already, pie off adheres to a strict discipline of rules and regulations.  we are nothing as a pie society if not civilized.  and we gladly accept the rigid guidelines that govern us.  for example, we understand that pies are made in a round pie plate, at least nine inches in diameter.  we too recognize that pies, by definition, have a bottom homemade crust.

these are not matters for debate.  as a civilized pie society, we revel in the celebration of a well-crafted, baked good.  what is subject for reflection and clarification this year is the appropriate ingredients for pie filling.  a bedrock principle of pie offs past has been fruit-based dessert pies only.  no exceptions.  ohhhhh, many a baker has fallen prey to these strictures in years past.  wielders of rhubarb, chocolate, and sweet potato alike have all met the swift, uncompromising hand of disqualification.

but friends, it is a new day.  and with the advent of pie off 2010 - winter x games we have reached a watershed moment in the event's evolution.  and so, it is not without some reluctance that i announce, on behalf of the pie off steering committee, and its intercontinental advisory board, that this year, ALL manner of dessert pies may enter the pie off hall of champions.

...as you may imagine, the writing of this email has been as exhausting and boring as i am sure the reading of it has been.  so i retire now to the kitchen, where many variations of crust and filling await my consideration.  in time, more event details shall be revealed -- time, place, entry fee, security measures.  but for now, we must rest.  and plan.

and dream.


dr. rainbow (for the pie off steering committee, p.o.s.c.)

pie off winter x games
december 4, 2010
bay area

~

Dear Pie Off Community,

 Our chairperson Dr. Rainbow has asked us to release this year’s RFJ – Request for Judges.  If you or someone you know would like to judge Pie Off Winter X Games, please take a moment to complete our brief Pie Judge Personality Inventory.  Rate your answers on a scale of 1 (strongly agree) to 5 (strongly disagree).

 A Pie Off Steering Committee representative will be in touch with you regarding your answers. Thank you.

 

THE PIE OFF CORPORATION

Division of Pie Engineering

Personality Inventory

 

1. I have often had a friendly relationship with pie.

2. I like to read pie cookbooks.

3. Sometimes I dream about filling.

4. I believe I was a rolling pin in a past life.

5. My stomach hurts.

6. Cake makes me nervous.

7. I once ate an entire pie by myself.

8. Store-bought crust is delicious.

9. Sometimes strange men follow me.

10. I have never made a pie.

~ THE GATA

Pastry Chef Musings. on complacency, competition, worry & innovation.

In lieu of my recent restaurant departure I've come to have a few thoughts about how there are a lot of different kinds of pastry chefs, and how "comparing one's inside's to another's outsides," can lead to dangerous territory.

By this I mean-- competition and self doubt and keeping up with the Joneses and all those icky feelings that crop up when we're worried about who we are and what we do, and instead of just being who we are and doing what we do, we stop, and peer around the edge nervously, spying on our counterparts, and reading each others press, and worrying.

We worry that we have the wrong desserts and we employ the wrong methods.

We worry about how we might be too boring, or not boring enough.

We worry we're too old fashioned or not sticking to the Classics.

We worry about how closely we're sticking to the seasons and if any Eat Localvores are going to arrest us for putting strawberries on our menu one day too soon.

We worry our menu is not approachable enough for the clientele we are serving. We worry our chef will keep making her/his portions bigger and bigger and keep complaining that dessert sales are too low to keep us on. We worry our desserts are better than our chef's savoury food & one day he'll notice and fire us for some bogus reason.

We worry.

We worry even when we're drunk or asleep or lounging easily on the bar or flirting with waiters or yelling at our cooks or trying to fix our Kitchen-Aid with masking tape or hiding our chinois in our lockers or doing our endless laundry or on a date or walking around nonchalantly as if we've not got a care in the world, on our one day off.

Sometimes the worry takes a vacation and ends up in a place it gets stuck because a volcano has decided to erupt or an earthquake has taken over the newsreels or someone in our family has died and

for a minute

we can breathe, worry-free.

But then it starts again.

We pick up a food magazine and see yet another recipe for a stupid dessert or a cliched pairing or the name of a pastry chef who's been getting press since dinosaurs opened ice cream parlours

and then the worry begins again.

 

Of course I'm being a little silly.

Not all pastry chefs worry around the clock. There are a few cool, calm & collected ones. A few Clark Kents who are just as wonderful even before they do a quick-change in a diminutive telephone booth. A few who know exactly who they are, where they came from and make desserts from their heart, their heartland.

But I do think a little worry is alright.

Because a lot of complacency is what I see on most dessert menus, wherever I eat, wherever I work, whenever I travel.

It's all too easy to make dessert cliches. It's all too easy to easy to conform. It's all too easy to become the undead pastry chef. It's all too easy to do only what you were taught in school. It's all too easy to perpetrate crimes against plated desserts, pastries, sweet thangs.

Because the masses want same. Sameness sells. Lowest common denominator flies off the shelf. Boring rules. The bottom line is infatuated with mass production.

Sugar is a siren.
The population is its ship.
Sugar spins web of deception.
The blind lead the stupid lead the lemmings.
All to their creative death.
And so it goes, round and round.

Because sugar, or the taste of sweetness, harkens back to our childhoods so strongly, and nostalgia is at the root of most classical dessert creations, it's difficult for people to allow pastry chefs to take chances with flavours/ingredients/pairings they love and hold close dearly.

Perhaps so close they suffocate pastry chefs!

So I beg of you this:

stop worrying and----->

start thinking outside the pink box.
start coming up with some slightly new flavor pairings.
stop only ordering from your purveyors and begin going to health food stores and online sources for some of your ingredients.
start reading of-the-moment chef blogs and start looking more closely at food photos and buy some food magazines & cookbooks not written in your native tongue and get your mind out there-- even if you can't afford to travel your body on that culinary airplane.
delve deeper into the ingredients you think you know-- try different animal eggs, animal fats, animal & grain & nut milks, various flours with and without gluten contents. toast your flours, taste new salts, experiment with as many kinds of sugars as you can find-- jaggeries, muscovados, raw/turbinado/demerarra, coconut sugar. taste honeys from all over the world. taste all strengths of Manuka honey. attempt using miso in replacement of salt, or even sugar.
substitute labne or Greek yogurt or sheep's milk yogurt for creme fraiche. substitute fromage frais for ricotta. or better yet-- make your own ricotta!
if you always use mascarpone, look into Crescenza or other triple cream wonders. try goat butter for your next batch of shortbread.
challenge yourself to a week of vegan baking. gluten-free baking. nut-free baking.
if you've never used fresh herbs in your muffins, cakes, cookies, buttercream, try it today. buy small batches of Organic non-irradiated ground spices and see what a difference they make compared to what your dry goods supplier is sending you. think they're too expensive? you only need 1/4 of the ginger root powder if it actually tastes like itself.
go to restaurants just for dessert.
get yourself out of your personal cave of dessert making and try someone else's creations. for all you know they're on twitter or facebook too and if you have questions imagine how happy they'll be to learn that you, another fellow pastry chef, came to eat their food & now has questions about some of their plates!
do something besides sleep on your next day off.
try getting inspiration from not just other food related sources. go to a gallery, a museum, get on a rollercoaster, take someone's kid to the zoo, or lay in the moss under some redwood trees and look high up into their canopy for perspective.

what are some other things you do to clear your head when your chef or the owner or your customers want you to make the same boring desserts they

remember from their childhood
had their last pastry chef make
know how to pronounce/eat/serve
think they know how to make themselves
eat year round whether those ingredients are in season or not
are oppressing you with only boring dusty 1980's (or earlier!) ideas

?

Enquiring pastry Chefs want to know.

Remember this:

the first chef who made something which strayed from his tradition/culture/local ingredient list/ etc. had to work hard to convince others of his and its merit.

the comfortable spot you've cornered yourself into keeps you and me and other chefs and future diners dumb.

guerilla acts of change are necessary to facilitate education, growth, change and to open one's mind one might sometimes need a crowbar as well as a spatula.

Tasting Table NYC loves dessert.

not just any dessert,

although they appear to have really good taste

in many a sweet thang,

but here, and now,

allow me to point you in the direction of Tasting Table NYC's March 1 edition! ~

Sweet Relief
A pastry genius touches down at 10 Downing

Because,

you guessed it,

it's about me.

yes, just moments after arriving & baking in NYC, some gorgeous press from Scott Hocker, formerly of SF Magazine & currently at Tasting Table SF. Not only did he get me and my food, spot on, he had my mouth watering on the subway while reading the latest issue of Edward Behr's ineffable The Art of Eating newsletter.

If you're not already signed up for the Tasting Table newsletter, may I suggest you consider it? There's one for LA, SF, NYC & D.C, Chicago & National.

10 Downing Street Food & Wine Restaurant, NYC

Some of you want to know where I'm working now. Now that I'm back in NYC. Seemingly, for good.

The restaurant has a lot of names. None of them names, per se. The address is the name. The name is the address. The address is not one you'd know, unless you knew the West Village really well.

10 Downing Street. No, not the famous UK address. {But ironic, dontcha think?}
10 Downing Street, on the West side of the street, just a blink South of where Bleeker criss-crosses 6th avenue, aka Avenue of the Americas.
Downing Street intercepts Bedford street, the two being tinier than the next.

We have a nice view of the Empire State Building, are a corner space with sidewalk to ceiling windows and boast an intriguing art collection...

 

But better than the view or the space or even the marble bar with the handsome, witty bartenders, is the chef, Jonnatan Leiva, and sous chef, Matthew Wilbur, in the kitchen. And our amazing team. We don't have a single 'extra' person. Everyone counts, works hard, and is growing leaps & bounds before our very eyes. I sound like a proud parent, I know. It's how I feel.

I'm proud to say I work with and amongst them. 

The jury is out on whether Jonnatan's clean, beautiful, vegetable forward, seasonal, soulful, whole animal, vegetable stock based food is what New York City wants, but we'll keep on until they catch up.

 

 

Jonnatan arrived at 10 Downing at the end of October, Matthew followed soon after in early December, and I was hired right before Christmas. All of us spent a great deal of time working in & living in California, but I never met either of them until I arrived.

I've been having a lot of fun with my menu, as you've seen. {*Lemon, *Gingerbread, *Chocolate,  *Butterscotch.} And as winter slips slowly, sleepily into Spring, our menus change and grow out of the outfits they get tired of wearing. 

 

Gingerbread, gone, Hazelnut, brown butter & pears in. Rethinking chocolate. Slipped in a lebne cheesecake with kumquat marmalade, then it exited stage left. Am playing with an apple chausson with rosemary caramel cream & a weird and wonderful pickled apple & pomegranate salad. And for those of you looking for something slightly less obvious ~ supple chocolate & pistachio cream, rose petal sugar, sour cherry sauce, toasted kataifi & cool rose-mastic cloud...

I'm also having a good time with our Saturday & Sunday brunch menu. I've revamped the granola by buying local honey, omitting nuts, replacing regular yogurt with lebne & making it with as "unsweet" as possible by using maple syrup & honey instead of brown sugar.

I've been bold & nudged in my favourite breakfast item: EGG BABIES! Aka Dutch Pancakes.

And I never thought I would do it, but I have overcome my fear of making marmalade & right this minute you could be served one or all of the following with your French Toast, Dutch Pancake 'Souffle,' and/or'Pastry Basket': kumquat, lemon, blood orange, Meyer lemon, or Mineola Tangelo!! We just yesterday finished a grapefruit-fennel marmalade that was one my first attempts.

Although brunch service happens only 2 days a week I've gone all out for the pastry basket. Every week I challenge myself with a new yeasted something. This past weekend I was utterly ecstatic to find Deb's Monkey Bread recipe in time for Friday testing.

If you came in this past weekend, your pastry basket had toasted flour & almond Polverone, ANZAC, cornbread, buckwheat-banana-walnut-coffee-candied ginger muffin, Monkey Bread & a cheesy-pear biscuit.

A lot of you have come in, introduced yourself and allowed me to meet you in person. What a joy this has been! Thank you thank you for supporting the restaurants where I work. It means so much, especially these days.

For any of you who want to see more behind the scenes photos of 10 Downing St. Restaurant kitchen & cooks, I've put up three sets on Flickr. One, Two & Three. Yes, I will continue to bring my camera in & document menu changes & cooks cooking.

And if you live anywhere near or in NYC, I hope to meet & feed you soon...

Menu Changes. or: what to do when history repeats itself.

I don't have to tell you that the economy of your country, city, town, continent, family has tanked.
I don't have to tell you anything about it. You know.
I don't have to tell you to hold onto your job. You have. As long as you've been able to.
I don't have to tell you not to spend your money on frivolous items. You either have or you have not; either out of need or need to rebel.
I don't have to tell you how many restaurants have closed, how many cooks and chefs and pastry chefs are out of work.
I don't have to tell you that if you love, really love a restaurant, you may want to become a regular.
I don't have to tell you that if you really love a chef or a pastry chef's work, you should tell everyone you know to go eat at said person's workplace. You know.
I don't have to tell you the power of positive press is far quieter than the power of negative press. Whether you rant indignantly on Yelp, or feed a piece of barely true gossip to Eater, or pan a place on Chowhound, or talk doo-doo on your own blog/Twitter/Facebook about a particular place,
you play a part in the wild fire that will surely consume said business.
I don't have to tell you anything. You know why? You know.
You're smart.
You read as much as I do.
Probably more.

I don't have to tell you what happened on September 11, 2001. I don't have to tell you that the Internet Bubble, based on money which did not exactly exist, but which was generating thousands of businesses to be born, and invite more people than could even fit in San Francisco & beyond to move there, and displace thousands more, burst. At about the same time as September 11, 2001.
O yes. It was a fun year. A great time to be working in a luxury industry making food people neither needed nor could afford.
I lost my job of 2 years that year. After that I was unemployed for longer than I have been since I started working, at age 14. I witnessed over 6,000 restaurants close in San Francisco. In one year.
You probably remember that time as well as I do.
I know you remember what you were doing that day.
And if you lived in NYC or the Bay Area, you remember the recovery time.
It took years.

It is for these memories, these reasons, these experiences, which I still feel, still know, viscerally, that I remain forever grateful to have a job, when I have one.
It is for these memories, these reasons, these experiences, which I still feel, still know, viscerally, that I have grown.
It is for these memories, these reasons, these experiences, which I still feel, still know, viscerally, that hope to always know perspective, even the smallest amount, is utterly important.

Because

a little perspective

goes

a long way.

When it happens all over again. History is only important, if you can learn from it.

There are very few restaurants that do not have to worry. About food costs. About labor percentages, about inventory, rent, the economy, holidays, weather, natural catastrophes, equipment, vermin, waste, stealing, lawsuits, worker injuries, etc. Very few. Not none, but probably less than a percent I'm guessing.

Everyone thinks it's so much fun to be a chef. So creative. So nifty. So delicious. So exciting. So glamorous.

And they're right.

Some of the time.

The rest of the time they're wrong. Very wrong.

Because sometimes the most creative things you're doing is

• figuring out how to cut costs without firing your entire staff
• changing your menu overnight because none of your purveyors will deliver to you because of outstanding invoices
• working every station even though the kitchen is composed of 6 stations in the layout of a 3 bedroom house
• juggling a myriad of medication to take while working sick
• offering every kind of 'special' that will attract every kind of diner at any price point you think all of these people can or will want to afford
• filching your numbers to reflect what the owners want to see
• keeping your management away from the bar where you know they're drinking away any of the profits you might otherwise be barely seeing
• figuring out how to serve food you worry is going off but can't afford to throw out
• shaving ounce after ounce off of your plates of food in ways diners won't notice so you don't have to raise prices, which diners always notice
• keeping your body alive on 3 hours of sleep, no food and coffee as your only imbibement
• switching arms, hands, wrists, because your primary one is so injured you can no longer use it well
• and
• p.s. you don't have health insurance
• even though
• you work in one of the most physically challenging indoor workplaces you know of

Menu Changes.

These words are a stand in for other words.

Menu Changes mean a variety of things. A menu changing is a symptom. Menus Change because they have to.

After September 11th, 2001, Menus Changed. In order for restaurants to stay afloat, they had to lower prices, drop expensive proteins, lay off extraneous staff {ie pastry chefs}, ask the staff that stayed to take pay-cuts & do twice the work.

A lot of Menus Changed and many restaurants started making Comfort Food. The United States needed comfort. A lot of it.

So tonight, when I was asked to change my menu, radically, I understood. I didn't like it, but I didn't stomp my feet and say, "It's not fair!"

I understood its implication. I know its history.

I had my "reactionary, emotional, angry" self tempered, calmed {silently} by my 'Grounded Self,' and I took the order as a challenge.

For I am only one of millions who has [had] to Change Menus. Change plans. Change on a dime. 

Change Menus. Get grateful. Turn challenge into lesson. Know life is full of lessons. Have perspective. Calm down enough to see the forest through the trees.

Because you know what?

Changing Menus is changing directions is life changing, and

the only thing you can rely on is change.

Butterscotch Pot de Creme, Dulce de Leche & Brown Sugar-Cumin Roasted Pecans

Butterscotch Pot de Creme, Dulce de Leche & Brown Sugar-Cumin Roasted Pecans

You could say I know Butterscotch. I know it well. And more than most people, I know what Butterscotch is not, never was and, if it's up to me, which of course it's not; because I need the help of all pastry chefs worldwide, not to mention the massive corporations who decide what you eat, in what form, and, {did you know?!} with what flavorings... But I digress.

If it were solely up to me, I would make sure everyone, e v e r y  one, knew the true, real taste of Butterscotch.

At my current workplace, I appear to be doing a good job of just this sort of delicious education. Because, contrary to popular plated dessert menu logic, this Butterscotch Pot de Creme is oftentimes selling better than my chocolate dessert.

I kid you not.

The People?

They appear to want the real thing.

Take that you imposters! You pretenders! Take that artificial butterscotch chips! POW! Artificial flavors be banished!

The People have spoken. With their mouths full. 

Butterscotch, the passion. Who knew? Underdog or trendsetter, flavor or philosophy, back road or freeway, Butterscotch could very well be bipartisan. Who do you know that can cast aspersions on Butterscotch?

In some ways you could say Butterscotch is simple. It is merely the flavor of its parts. No fancy flips or one-handed emulsion tricks, no major machinery needed, no ingredients you can't get at your local regular supermarket.

Butterscotch is:

Dark Brown Sugar. Butter. Cream. Madagascar "Bourbon" Vanilla Extract. Salt.

See? Easy. Easy as a pot on a stove, whisk in hand, a dash of patience & a good, solid, belief in the seasoning & balancing power of salt.

All that said, pot de creme? It's not so easy. I worked for a pastry chef once who, after I asked nervously, "How do you know when they're done, when they're just set?" said, "You'll come to have a pot de creme sense. You'll know before the timer goes off. The oven will talk to you. Listen. The custards, and their corresponding ramekins, will teach you. You'll see."

And she was right.

But not everyone has it.

You have to be a student of the egg. You have to understand coagulation. You have to understand why. You have to be a Why Asker. You have to get quiet. Really quiet. Because when eggs talk, when eggs school, they do so quietly. Eggs are great whisperers. 

You have to understand steam. You have to know what a water-bath does. You have to understand your oven. You have to understand the physics of ratio. Ratio of ramekin weight & depth to liquid custard. 

You have to be patient. You have to have a gentle touch when checking up on your setting pot de cremes. You have to have the eye. Your eyes need to be connected to your mind, but also your heart. For an overcooked pot de creme looks a lot like an underset one.

And you have to know something about carryover cooking.

Yes, carryover cooking isn't just for meat cooks. All protein, all baked goods, experience carryover cooking.

All that warning aside. A pot de creme is worth it. Worth every worry, worth every every ramekin of wobbly, custardy joy, worth every pot de creme you have to dump immediately in the garbage bin because you waited 1 minute too long.

Pot de creme is not forgiving. Overcooked pot de creme? Scrambled eggs. Literally. Not smooth texture. Overcooked pot de creme feeds the garbage gods, who laugh in your face. But you have to stare them down, even with tears streaming into their hungry, mean mouths, and get back on the pot de creme pony.

A perfect pot de creme will evaporate in your mouth faster than cotton candy. A perfect pot de creme will keep you from sharing. A perfect pot de creme will leave you wordless. Will humble you.

I promise.

And so... the dessert at hand.

Butterscotch plays well with others. Butterscotch pairs with many other flavours sweet & savoury. Being that we're still in the thick of January & winter's brittle clutch, my dessert menu leans heavily on warm, hearty compositions. Butterscotch can still taste like itself up against some pretty powerful ingredient egos. Like cumin.

Who says cumin has no place in desserts? I seem to remember proving y'all wrong a few years ago when I made a Cumin Pot de Creme with Heirloom Apple Salad & Bee Pollen.

Cumin can be a bit frightening because of it's sharply bitter edge which is never demurely hiding against the wall waiting for Coriander or Black beans to ask it to dance. Cumin will more likely steal your car than open the door for you. So, yes, you do have to be careful with cumin.

But, up against Butterscotch, cumin checks her guns at the door. She hooks the arms of one slender, dashing, buttery pecan, stands up straight as an arrow, shows off a little leg, and lets a night of brown sugar, butter & sea salt take her away.

And if you're still not convinced, these brown sugar-salty butter-cumin roasted nuts sit on a deeply colored dulche de leche: one of the world's most voluptuous, silky, milky, caramel known to all whose tongues have come   with across it.

I make one final stroke. {You could say I learnt it in London.}

To offer a bit of 'refreshment,' brightness, & mystery to the dessert, I pour a thin stream of cream on the butterscotch pot de creme's surface. The taste of cold cream is one of life's rare, secreted, pleasures.

If you were a wee bit afraid of whether butterscotch were going to be too sweet for your elegant palate, the cream is there for your tempering pleasure. If the plate were slightly too wintery browns for your intelligent eye, the lid of juxtoposed white would immediately balance the plate's aesthetic dynamic.

And if you, were anything like me, you would allow me to blindfold one of your five senses, and trust me to take you on a journey filled with familiar & unfamiliar, common & uncommon, rich & deep sensations, beyond your wildest imaginings.