Knife's Edge - Restaurant Rants & Raves

19th Century Boy

You people are going to laugh at me. I bought a recirculator. Granted, it was $4 on ebay (yes, it works) but still. I've gone on about the perils of molecular gastronomy and here I am, lab equipment in hand, ready for sous vide.

I've been trying to open my eyes without turning off my brain. I really appreciate Joy's review of her visit to Alinea. Part of the problem I've had with technology and cuisine, beyond some rather bizarre flavor combinations, is that most of the practitioners seem to take themselves soooo seriously. Her review and comments pulled some of that away.

That said I've had to look at my attitudes toward new, or even not so new, technology as it applies to my profession. Clearly I am no Luddite as I'm writing this on a laptop, and will freely admit that internet access is partially what has made my life here in the sticks bearable. I use a cell phone. My music collection is digitized, playable on the computer and portable. So why am I resistant to any kitchen device that doesn't come out of the Middle Ages?

One word. Fear. All kinds of fear. First, just the personal insecurities. I'm not (good,creative, worthy, fill in your own pejorative) enough to use this technology. Second, financial. I can't afford all the gizmos. Third, my customers. We have people who walk out because we don't serve fish and chips, people who don't know what polenta is and a whole lot of people who are looking for a meal, not an "experience". Fourth, fear of being ridiculous. When I see people calling things "watermelon steak" I get violent. It's exactly this kind of crap that makes my job more difficult, and makes it harder for me to convince a client to trust me and order something different.

At the same time a few things have stuck with me. Remarks by Gray Kunz while at Lespinasse about changing the brutal work environment of the professional kitchen come to mind. His new kitchen was full of induction burners, wireless headsets for communication between stations, natural light and other modern marvels. He wondered when restaurants would catch up to the rest of the world in providing a comfortable environment for workers. This is certainly true, most other first world industries don't have people standing 10+ hours a days in front of things spitting flame, under fluorescent light, handling dangerously sharp objects in extremely tight quarters under near constant stress. Yes, to some degree that's the nature of the work, but there certainly are ways to make things safer and more comfortable.

The introduction of new technologies brings out the best and worst. Remarks by Escoffier that food would never taste the same upon the introduction of gas cooking rather than wood show this type of fear has been around a long time. These days food processors are standard issue in even home kitchens, to the point that many young cooks have never made a mayonnaise with a whisk, or a pesto in a mortar. Both have their place. The microwave oven is probably the poster child for a tool that is nearly always abused. I still don't have a real use for one in my restaurant, although I have seen chefs use them to cook vegetables to order and I'm sure there are other uses for them besides what I use my home microwave for, namely to heat up a neck pillow my sister-in-law gave me.

Obviously, it's what you do with the tools that counts. And whether you have the capacity to use the tools to expand your range, not just wank blindly into the wind. To illustrate using a musical example, my father-in-law invented a device for the guitar that allows the user to manipulate specific strings to specific pitches. He invented it specifically for one man, a guitarist he played with for many years. This guitarist was amazing to begin with, and with this device, his range soared and he took his instrument to amazing places. The device is now widely sold and though there are plenty of them out there, there are very few guitarists who can really use them well, because their mind doesn't work in the same way as the original guitarist's.

So, all that said, we'll see if this recirculator expands my range. At heart I feel like I've never belonged in either century I've lived in. Can a 19th century man use 21st century technology?

PS: a friend from SF Slow Food asked me to post the following: Slow Food Perfect Pairing with Evan Goldstein a food and wine pairing event at the Acme Chophouse on July 9th.

When Your Farmer Becomes an Asshole

It is with heavy heart I write this. I know this is a tough year for farming. Hell, any year is a tough year for farming, but this one has been particularly poor. But I don't think my farmer's behavior has much to do with this year's crops.

I've been buying produce from this man for many years, both at my own restaurant and those owned by others. In the last few years I've watched his quality decline and his attitude increase. We have had talks about it a couple of years ago and he moaned about the difficulty of building his new house.

I enter a relationship with a grower or supplier with the idea that it is a fluid relationship. Someone who supplies us with lettuces lost a few weeks of production to the rain followed by the heat. I understand that. It sucks for them, sucks for us but we both deal with it. So, for most of the farmers I deal with I stay very flexible. With one of them, whom I saw last night, I have been in the habit of buying his surplus from market days. He gets a higher price selling at market, and I want to make sure he sticks around, not only because he picks up our compost, but because he is a good guy, really trying to pursue a sustainable system.

The network of suppliers here is fragile and I try to do the dance of spreading the orders around to keep everyone going and still get what I need. For instance, there's a local produce company who brings things twice a week from SF. They also pick up meat, cheese, ducks and chocolate for me and others, at rates much lower than UPS. Their produce isn't amazing. It's not bad, but it's more a commodity item for them and I try to get things like onions, potatoes, celery, etc from them. And get them in sufficient quantity that they keep picking things up for us. There's the aforementioned compost guy and there's the mother of a former sous chef who grows lettuces and arugula for us. Then there's the guy this post is about.

Over the years his operation has expanded to first brokering for his neighbors for stone fruit and other items to hauling produce from the market in Sacramento in order to keep coming here year-round. He typically does a pretty good job of crop rotation and he's got a pretty long season. He usually has something available from his own farm from about March-November. With him I have been ordering mostly things he grows, since he gets a premium for them and because I want to make sure I give a little business to the local guys who pick stuff up for me, go the extra mile and dine in my restaurant. To be fair to the farmer he does dine with us also, but less frequently than he used to.

This approach has been erratic though. Things he lists as coming from him on his price sheet are substituted for stuff picked up at our local supermarket when it gets to me. He sometimes doesn't bring things and tells me I can go to the market and pick them up. He seems to always have a complaint in way or another.

We have also consistently adapted to his changes. Whether it's coming once or twice a week, getting two invoices (one for his own produce and one for the other stuff) and writing two checks or making sure he is paid consistently (something I know some of his other customers don't do) we keep our end of the deal.

We save boxes for him so he can save some on packing costs. We almost never complain or ask for credit. Not even when the peaches come in so flavorless that the only hope for them was a lot of sugar, and a little bay leaf as happened last week. In short we accommodate this guy to a degree we don't with anyone else.

So, what's got me in an uproar? A very little thing really. My sous left him a rather small order, some of which was tomatoes which he grows. He called to tell me there would be only half a box rather than a full and did we want to just wait until the next delivery day and get a full box? I said yes. This of course made the small order smaller. On his invoice upon delivery (he usually delivers before I get to the restaurant) he writes "It's not worth my time to stop my truck for such a small order. Next time order once a week."

Now there are many companies out there with minimums. I understand you have to cover your costs and you'd like to deliver a full load rather than a partial and I'm certainly willing to do what I can to help you. For instance, our broad-line distributor, like many others, pays their salesman a higher commission on larger orders. So, I try to order once a week, even though they deliver twice, so my guy makes a little more cash. Not a big deal there because the canola oil, flour, etc I get from them isn't so dependent on freshness as produce or seafood.

So, I don't mind working with minimums. But there's never been one mentioned and the note just rubbed me the wrong way. No please. No thank you. No, "can you help me out?" And this isn't a crusty old uncommunicative farmer with no language skills. This is a savvy marketer, a college grad.

So I checked how much money I've funneled this man's way since we opened. Over $86,000. Nearly $11,000 per year. Now that's not going to make for a palace in Monaco, but if I were him I wouldn't want to lose it.

There are things we do that are not worth our time. But we do them. Should I tell my customers it's not worth my time for them to come in and have only a glass of wine? Or only dessert? Of course not. Would I prefer they have dinner, wine and dessert with me? Of course, but sometimes they won't.

If his quality was amazing, I might be inclined to deal with the behavior, but like I've said it's been declining every year. So, we decided to not order from him at all this week and say nothing. If he calls us I'll tell him I didn't want him to have to stop his truck for a small order. If he doesn't, I won't order from next week. Yes, this is a passive-aggressive way to deal with this and I might change my mind. However I don't think talking to him directly will do anything. As the GM pointed out if the order were too large he'd complain he had to carry it all.

We'll see what happens. For all I know he's tired of dealing with us for whatever reasons he may have. It may be time for the relationship to end. Or maybe this will be an attitude adjustment for both of us. I'll keep you posted.

South Mouth

Our last trip to SF turned into an exploration of the Southern/soul options there. The following is by no means exhaustive and we welcome future recommendations.

Lunch at Memphis Minnie's: We've been there before and actually the last time was better. My ribs were a little charred on the ends, perfect for the GM but not me. I appreciate that they do BBQ without sauce and although no one would mistake this for Flint's, they do a credible job. When I lived in SF this location was called Spaghetti Western and was a hipster breakfast joint. The cooks all wore their knives at the hip in homemade scabbards.

The GM tried chili cheese fries made with smoked brisket and she proclaimed it the best she's had. The verdict: I'm sure we'll wind up there again, if only because as opposed to other BBQ spots, it's actually possible to sit down and enjoy the meal at the restaurant, rather than having to take it to go.

Dinner at the Elite Cafe: The last time we tried the Elite we ended up having one of the most monumental fights we've had in years. However, we were able to agree that the biscuits were among the best we've had. We decided to give the place (and ourselves) another try. When we walked in, the hostess said, "Oh I remember you. You have the restaurant in XXX". We were hoping she didn't remember us for any other reason, and I don't think she did.

My seafood gumbo was credible. Nice and dark, the roux seemed properly made. The GM went for a salad, romaine with grilled red onions, lemon-caper dressing and dry jack. Not exactly Southern but hey... It's a really nice feeling restaurant. It feels like an old, burnished but slightly down at the heels Southern place. Definitely an atmosphere I would try to create.

As we were dining I was thinking about how much I really love Southern food. Indeed I think it's the only real American cuisine. Yes there are pockets of good regional dishes, but only in Southern cooking do I find the combination of flavor, hospitality and the sense of enjoyment and well-being that a good meal, well-shared can bring. But that's just me.

At any rate I was feeling a little jealous, wanting a Southern restaurant of my own. But, I know that I would feel restless being locked into that idiom and would inevitably lose focus. Then I counted up the menu items. Out of 34 items, 14 were distinctly identifiable as Southern. The rest could easily fall into the catch-all California designation. Yet, the place feels like a Southern restaurant. Perhaps it's the decor, the waiters uniforms or my own association with it, having worked there in 1990 as a culinary student.

Or maybe it's the biscuits. When a restaurant doesn't serve bread what they do serve seems to define it. Chips and salsa on the table? You could probably serve hamburgers and people would identify the place as Mexican. After eating a salad and a basket of naan, you'd probably register Indian. So the biscuits. Still good, but this time on the same level as the rest of the meal, which is not to say to the rest of the meal reached the heights of the biscuits, but that the biscuits seem to have fallen to rest of the dishes. The Peter Principle of food if you will. Don't get me wrong, they were quite good, just not as good as the previous visit.

I tried a chicken liver brochette with balsamic and nectarine sauces. Again not Southern and that's when I realized just how unSouthern the Elite was. The livers were fine as were the sauces but they could have left off the tired, undressed greens. Note to cooks anywhere: If you are going to garnish your plate with something edible, it should be edible, ideally palatable. Otherwise, leave it off.

The GM had pan roasted chicken with what they said was going to be broccoli rabe and wild mushrooms. While I saw portobello and perhaps chanterelle, I saw nary a rabe. Plenty of red and yellow bell peppers though. The accompanying grits fries were really good. Crispy on the outside and warm and melting within.

The verdict: Considering it's 50 feet away from our city hideaway, we'll go again.

Lunch at Q: After a visit a few years ago that left me largely unimpressed I have successfully avoided the GM's attempts to steer us back to Q. However, once we started on this quasi-Southern theme and found ourselves a block away I threw caution to the winds and agreed to return. Never again.

The GM's chicken was crusty yet had no flavor. My catfish was decent, the corn relish was nice and the "garlic fries" cooked well, although perhaps more accurately named "Lawry's seasoning fries". The sweet tea (which I don't have often but use a benchmark for whether a place understands the culture they're trying to replicate) was not sweet enough. A quibble you say? Yes, but using the drink as a benchmark underscores the entire experience which can be summed by saying, "There's quite a difference between funky and sloppy."

The verdict: Never again.

Dinner at Farmer Brown: If we hadn't been meeting people we probably wouldn't have tried Farmer Brown. Not because we wouldn't want to, but because the place looks not only closed, but closed for a long time. The windows are cracked (which Jon thinks might be deliberate and I think he's right), there's paper over much of the windows, the awnings are filthy with pigeon poop and the neon open sign in the front window was turned off. Note to the fine folks at Farmer Brown: I understand you might want to keep a low profile in the neighborhood, but you have to let your customers know you want them to come in. At the very least take the open sign out of the window if you're not going to turn it on. Washing the awnings wouldn't hurt either. Being discrete doesn't mean being uninviting.

The sweet tea. Tooth numbingly sweet, the way it should be. The gumbo. Less credible than the Elite. I didn't try the GM's salad, Jon's carrot-ginger soup or Joy's salad but they all remarked that they were fine choices. My catfish po-boy was good, my only complaint was the slaw. The slaw was good mind you, but they put the slaw on the sandwich and then used the slaw as a side dish. Just a little too much slaw going on there. The GM's Fulton Valley fried chicken made up for the tasteless chicken at Q. Crispy, good flavorful crust and moist within. The spicy mac & cheese made a good pairing. Joy's pulled pork sandwich was good, but not North Carolina pulled pork, which is what I hear when I think pulled pork. Jon seemed a little disappointed with his trout which I didn't try.

The verdict: We'd definitely go again. The prices are right and the food was good. A little more attention to detail (slaw upon slaw) and this place could shine. If they stay open that is. A sketchy location and an unlit entry don't equal a recipe for success. Best wishes folks.

We tried to go to Star's (no, not that one silly, this one is in Marin City) on Kudzu's recommendation. She warned us they keep inconsistent hours, however they are now closed for good. We had to make do with Nepalese food in Santa Rosa (more about that later).

Right now it's time to get my own ribs cooking. They've been marinating in a dry rub all night and ready for a low and slow oven.

Personality Crisis

We'll be training this weekend. We've got our new hires coming in on successive days to start learning the ropes. The GM's plan is to be totally out of the restaurant by 4th of July weekend and I think we'll achieve that but when she made the plan we didn't foresee having to train 3 new people. I know she's a little stressed about it but I'm sure things will work out just fine.

Unfortunately this evening the GM has a baby safety class so she'll only get a couple of hours with the first young woman, then we both have a class tomorrow which is over before service and then I'm catering a wedding on Sunday so only the girl on Saturday will get both of our full attention. Next week we're going to SF so it will really be 2 weeks until we can really evaluate how these people might fit in and how they might do their jobs.

They're each very different. The first is a redneck workhorse, willing to try anything, she's worked construction clean up and sawmill operation shifts for a temp agency. She does breakfast shifts at a busy redneck deli. She will be a great addition provided we have the time to bring out the best in her. We have had lots of success in the Pygmalion department but our time is a lot more limited than it used to be.

The second is leaving another restaurant that recently changed hands. In her interview she told us she really liked her former employers and their philosophy (use of organics, community based restaurant) and that things were changing with the new owners. She's friends with one of our former bussers and may or may not know anything about who we are and what we believe in. She's a bit the wild card. She'll be fine as long as she understands that while we don't take ourselves very seriously, we take what we do very seriously. Some young people in this community have applied with us, telling us they've heard we are cool employers. We are, but to them that translates to being able to show up stoned, eat a great meal and think about working. Once they see the reality we are suddenly a lot less cool.

The third is leaving a local inn (along with just about everybody else there) and will also be doing breakfast shifts at a friend's place. The GM gets stoner attitude from her but I didn't. Not to say she doesn't sample our most famous agricultural export but I didn't get the slacker attitude from her. She's been dealing with guests for the past year who have spent considerable amount of money for their rooms and have expectations to go along with that money. I'm hoping she'll be a good addition in dealing with what the GM calls snooty people. To me these are people whose main gauge for whether they're having a good time is how much money they've spent. In their internal rankings we will not be thought of as a great restaurant because our prices are modest. These are the people who if they leave us a positive comment will say something like, "We were pleasantly surprised". Mostly these are people unsure of themselves. They need someone to validate their experience and they would never be the one to point out that the emperor has no clothes.

We've always had trouble serving these people. I think their insecurity plugs directly into ours and the charge generated is often unpleasant. So perhaps having someone who has dealt with people like that consistently will help us overcome some of our own failings, which translate into a chip on our shoulder. It's very hard just to be, to be yourself and to be comfortable with that, to not be defensive when who you are doesn't jibe with who someone else is and not be superior in other situations.

Like my writing about the young woman training tonight being a redneck. That choice of word carries an entire lifetime of history for me, none of it positive. It's also the least offensive or patronizing of the descriptors I could apply. Rather than amplify this young woman's obvious willingness to tackle hard physical work, her willingness to work 2 jobs one of which starts at 5:30am, the other of which doesn't end until 10:30-11:00pm and her ability to move to a rather expensive area and support herself, I, with my superior attitude focus on her grammar and set myself up as some sort of Henry Higgins. What bullshit.

What remains though is we have a standard of service and we expect everyone to deliver that standard. The only way we can do that is by teaching these people not only what we expect mechanically (how to set the table, don't remove the glass from the table when pouring, etc) but also by imparting some of who we are. These people are the representatives of our restaurant's personality. Indeed, they help define the restaurant's personality and the extent they are able to internalize our personalities will determine how much of ourselves comes through in our business.

Years ago when we still did lunch we got to the point where we were uncomfortable walking in to our own restaurant. The lunch personality was not who we were or wanted to be. We could identify the cause but by then it was too late.

It's important that our business has personality. That's why people return to us. It's also why people don't return to us.

The title of this post reflects our personality. The first person to identify why gets a copy of "A Meal Observed", by Andrew Todhunter, an account of a meal and some of the inner workings at Taillevant.

Too Much of a Good Thing

There's a lot going on, all worthy of separate posts which maybe I'll do. We'll see how things go. First, the food. Changing the menu this time of year is a week by week deal. Things go in and out of season quickly, often going before you've found a dish that really lets them shine. Usually around now I'm knee deep in cherries, but I'm a little reluctant this year with all the rain. Not only is the price high but they're water-logged. At least the ones I've tasted. In another two weeks they may well be over. Perhaps no cherries this year. We've got amazing local strawberries coming along but the farmer needs a solid month with no rain to have enough for commercial production. As it is he has just barely enough for farmer's market. If the weather keeps up the way it's been he may not have enough this year to supply us.

Salmon is a no go for me this year. The commercial season is closed here and though it may not be in my best interests financially I'm going to support our local fishermen by at least not putting out of state salmon on the menu this year. That doesn't exactly translate into support but at least it's not adding insult to injury. I know at least one of my colleagues here plans to do the same.

So, this week we've got olive oil poached halibut with preserved lemon couscous and romesco; albacore with tempura green beans, white bean salad and anchovy aioli; grilled asparagus with poached egg and red wine vinaigrette; sturgeon with fava bean spaetzle and horseradish creme fraiche; spring vegetable risotto cakes with shallot-rhubarb confit; and scallops with pineapple brulee and carrot-ginger sauce. That's at least the new things. About 1/2 of our menu remains constant so we can serve both customers who want a new experience and those who need the stability of knowing their favorite will be there the next time they come in.

We've got some staffing shifts also. Our two weakest waiters are going. One is the sister of a guy we had to fire years ago and I guess bad behavior runs in the family. Hers is a little different variety, she's greedy. She's always worried about being skipped in the seating rotation, didn't want to tip the hostess when we hired one to replace the GM on weekends, tips the bussers and the kitchen a a very meager amount, is always monitoring the schedule to make sure she is getting enough shifts, etc. At the same time she can't make too much money on paper because she has a medical condition that requires daily medication and if she passes a certain threshold Medi-Cal doesn't cover her. We are all here to make a living and I don't fault her for wanting to make sure she gets her needs met. We have found however, that the best way to make a living in the service industry is to provide good service. Everything else flows from that. Yes it's true that you can make a better living by working for places that are busy, have good food and where you are well-treated so if you are working in one those places (like our restaurant), focus on doing your job. The money will come believe me. No this isn't some New Age dictum, it's just a fact. If you provide good service you will, on the average, be rewarded. Will you get stiffed? Yes. Will you get skipped in seating? Yes. Will you have to give away some of that money to the people who make it possible for you to earn it? Yes, although that is not legally enforceable. Morally, however sharing is a good quality.

We were going to have to deal with this person for the entire summer, but she gave notice. Yes, we could have and perhaps should have, let her go but while her behavior was irritating, they weren't actually firing offenses. Also, we seem to have one of these kind of people on staff at any given time, so perhaps it's something we need organizationally. At the Zagat forum on hospitality a few years back one of the panel discussions talked about personality types and balancing your staff. If everyone is perky, talkative and cheery, maybe you need someone who's more grounded and serious to balance things. So, if most of our staff is helpful, supportive, ready to pitch in and happy, maybe we need someone who's miserable, worried about getting their share and selfish.

The other one who may be leaving has a management offer on the table from her other job. I wouldn't take it, but I understand why she might. She's not bad, she just has a hard time when things aren't perfect and while being a perfectionist can work to benefit in this business, it can also cripple you on a busy night when your section is full. Being able to let your anal tendencies go by the wayside until you've dealt with customer needs can be crucial.

We were already looking for people when the first mentioned gave notice. This solved a dilemma for us. We had interviewed 5 people and 4 were good candidates, 3 were really good candidates, all for different reasons. Usually when we're in need we have only 1, maybe 2 interviewees and the choice is relatively clear. This time though, we thought we'd be hiring 1 and the GM and I were split on who it would be. We could see the merits of the other's choice and the decision was going to be painful. We had then come to the idea of maybe hiring 2 of them and still the decision seemed split. We decided to let it sit until the next day when one of the waiters said she'd had this offer from her other job. We decided to hire all 3. The next morning the greedy waiter gave her notice. Dilemma solved.

Now comes training. We'll go over that in another post. Also suppliers, a topic for another day.