With $160 You Get No Eggroll

"Talk is cheap, barbers give it away free with haircuts."
- Ancient Chinese Proverb

Ah, Christmas in D.C. I finally got a break and got to visit the world outside of Arkansas, and I’m pleased to report that it’s still there!

My sister lives in Northern Virginia near Washington, D.C. and that’s where I spent the holidays. They had just had a massive winter storm a few days prior, and by Christmas Day there was still nearly a foot of snow on the ground hence a somewhat White Christmas.

Anytime I travel food is always a focal point for me, and this trip was no exception. Though I tend to avoid cooking shows and the Food Network, I had seen a couple of shows somewhere that touted Ben’s Chili Bowl in D.C. I had to go.

Ben’s is a Capitol City tradition that features a typical “grill” menu that specializes in Half-Smokes and Chili. Imagine a chili dog made from a quarter-pound smoked sausage, drowning in top-shelf chili. Add cheese sauce from a can, a double handful of standard 3/8” fries (like Wendy’s), and a Coke. You'll find yourself $12 lighter and covered with killer chili and cheese sauce…and that’s about it.

A coworker had told me of a show he’d seen on the Food Network where Duff Goldman (don’t know who he is but we sat next to his picture) had been to a place in Falls Church, Virginia and had one of his best meals ever. My buddy said that the name of the place was Peking Gourmet Inn and that I should go. Peking Duck he said was the meal in question and the house specialty.

From my experience in my hometown of Charlotte, NC, any restaurant that opened up in a “strip-mall” shopping center either sucked…or…wasn’t good. Peking Gourmet Inn is in a shopping center along with an Asian market, a Middle Eastern market, a bank, an insurance company, and a Thai restaurant plus a couple others. The storefront is about twice as wide as the door and not very impressive.

It was a cold Wednesday night and we arrived about 6:00. We walked into a small and cramped foyer that was mostly filled by the hostess’ podium with nothing else in view but the take-out window and pictures of the owner and several recognizable customers including both Presidents Bush and their wives. Two Chinese girls were frantically studying reservation lists and seating charts, and practically screaming at each other in their native language. It sounded like a Hong Kong auction and I’m still not sure that we ever truly got their attention.

One of the girls never looked up, but asked if we had reservations.

“No.”

They both got a little more frantic, and then one finally said, “You come now, but eat fast…another table coming soon.”

We were whisked into what opened into a huge dining room filled with white-table-cloth appointed tables, each one filled to capacity with well dressed “beautiful people”—half of them Asian. Every wall was covered with more photos of famous customers that included every Congress man and woman in the District. Amazing smells filled the room and an army of tuxedo-clad waiters and busmen danced around the packed house like well choreographed ballerinas.

How long it has been since I smelled, saw, and felt the energy of a REAL restaurant? Oh, Heaven and electricity!

Out waiter’s name was Chao, a 40-something year old Chinese veteran of the industry with a nearly indiscernible accent and a twinkle in his eye. Judging by his mastery of the dining room and the Rolex on his wrist he has been trained by the best (probably European) and been at it for decades. The kind of guy that you have no idea what he just said, but you know you’re in good hands so you just let go and let him drive.

We ordered some drinks and the first item on the menu—a six course meal for 4. Done!

Chao expediently showed up with a round of Hot & Sour Soup and a plate of very different fried noodles. They were round, a little thinner than a pencil, a little softer than the usual, and freshly fried. Everyone at the table remarked that they had never “really” had Hot and Sour Soup until this moment. To me it was hot and sour soup, tasty nonetheless.

I had seen a couple bowls of what looked like sliced chilies on a neighboring table and inquired about them. Chao promptly brought a dish of what he called “hot sauce”. It was a little monkey dish filled with thinly sliced little green Chinese “death chilies” (you know the ones) with a little soy sauce poured over them. I put them on everything with joy!

Next came a plate of Sweet and Sour Cabbage and another of Peking Celery. Now one might say that these were mere fillers, and one would be right, but just let me tell you. To the best of my recollection I haven’t had a vegetable in at least six weeks and these were welcome. Both were essentially raw and served room temperature. Hot would have been just not quite right and cold would’ve been just wrong.

The cabbage was firm, white, and a little curly. Oddly enough I’m not sure what kind of cabbage it was. The only thing I can figure is that it was your basic green cabbage, but only the more tender white center that had been soaked in ice water and dried thoroughly before being tossed in a little vinegar, salt, sugar, and crushed red chili.

The celery had been filleted, peeled, blanched for about 5 seconds to bring out the green, and tossed in a little sesame oil. It’s possible that the oil was in the blanching water. At any rate for the first time in my life I thought celery was really cool. I had an instructor in culinary school that vehemently believed and taught that “celery should be tasted but never seen”. Peking Celery would’ve changed Chef Z’s view.

Next came the main course, the dish we came for—the house specialty, Peking Duck.

It seemed that nearly every table had one. Out comes a little plate with warm, hand-made steamed pancakes covered with a lid to hold in the steam. A bowl of traditional Hoisin sauce, and plates of julienned cucumbers and leeks followed.

And then the duck.

A skilled server brought out a whole duck with the most amazing crispy golden brown skin. She whipped out a Chinese cleaver and began by shaving paper thin pieces of crispy skin. The whole duck is skinned but only the choicest top layer. Next she scraped off the layer of soft fat from between the meat and the outer skin, revealing juicy meat that was as soft as silk and as tender as a mother’s love. It was sliced thin and arranged next to the skin. She went through the entire animal until nothing but a carcass was left. True craftsmanship. With reverence, one by one, we passed around the components and built little stuffed rolls.

We ate the duck!

One bite and then there was dead silence for about 30 seconds. Angels drifted down from the ceiling. Some floated in from all four corners of the dining room, and a few ascended from under our table. They gathered hands and formed a circle around the table. From out of the carcass came a bright light that filled the room. Quite in unison all of the angels made a joyful noise unto the Lord, and danced around the table as in a synchronized swimming musical from the 50’s. It started as the Blue Danube and made a crescendo into a fanfare by Mozart.

We liked the duck!

It was then that plates started flying at our table from all directions. There were huge, plump Ginger Shrimp with Asparagus. The tails were removed, the asparagus was fresh and crisp, the shrimp were cooked perfectly, and tossed with long, matchstick thin strands of fresh ginger that was hand cut by virgins with razor sharp blades hewn from rarest ivory.

There was a plate of beautiful sesame/soy green beans—fresh, green, crunchy, and perfectly seasoned with flavors I’ve never experienced together. A dish of Black Pepper Beef came with a broccoli garnish. It was best described as Chinese pot roast—tender, moist, and exploding with layered flavors from outside to center.

Next we all learned what fried rice is supposed to be. Perfectly cooked individual grains of rice tossed with an equal amount (not an obligatory garnish) of peas, chicken, shrimp, and barbecued pork. OMG! In parts of Asia each grain of rice is considered a representation of the children, and here was no exception. Each grain was treated with individual respect, love, and honor.

We ate what we could and the rest is still in the fridge.

Finally Mango Ice Cream, a bill for $144.00 (plus a well deserved tip), and fortune cookies. Mine said “The day only gets better.” How?

As we were leaving at 8:00 about 200+ people were seated and another 30 were waiting in line for our table. Chao passed us en route to a new table and wished us a Merry Christmas by name. His night was only half over at best.

If you’re ever within 500 miles of Falls Church, VA drop by Peking Gourmet Inn. They actually do have egg rolls on the menu and I imagine they’re good, but not what you go there for and they don’t come with. Be sure to call ahead for reservations.

Stop by Ben’s only if you’re in the neighborhood, and have a Happy New Year!

Molecular Schmeckular

"Cobbler, stick to thy last"

Those of you who know me know of my previously demonstrated disdain for this "Molecular Gastronomy" thing that's plagued our industry in recent years. I have grown over the course of my career to a place of simplicity. I've enjoyed eating some great meals in some of the nation's best restaurants and the best meals were the ones that were simple but executed well.

Sometimes I think that I've lost my passion when I look at some of these websites with beautiful food that I didn't think of first. So I've tried lately to incorporate some of tenets of M.G. to make me look like I'm a hip, modern chef. It hasn't really worked.

This weekend was the busiest weekend of my entire career. Thirty five or so VIP catering events for 50 to 250 people in 36 hours. Seven chefs flew in from New Orleans and Texas to help out. Quail eggs came from North Carolina at the last minute (because Georgia was flooded and they couldn't get them to me). Lamb racks came by special courier from Memphis because my distributor failed to order them for me. There was green tea powder from Massachusetts that got lost in the mail and didn't show up until 4 hours from plate-up, strawberry powder from California, bonito flakes from Michigan, and chocolates and 23K edible gold leaves from Maryland.

This was Legislative Weekend--the weekend that legislators and major donors come from all over the state to enjoy a lineup of special events designed to make them want to open up their wallets over the next year. This is our centennial year at ASU so the guest list was a little bigger than usual, and the itinerary included a major rock band in concert on campus (The Fray...whoever they are), a football game, a Japanese musical presentation in the Fine Arts Center, and a whole bunch of other stuff for a whole bunch of people.

At times I wondered why I try.

Our P.I.T.A. event planner insisted on a breathtaking display of Waldorf Salad and Ambrosia to be splayed out on a mirror the size of a door on beds of sliced oranges and pineapples. Uh, the 50's called...they want their salads back. And BTW, mirrors and mayonnaise make poor company. We did something different.

Talented chef's from afar hit the proverbial wall on prep night and left before the prep list was done. They didn't bother asking. The day of the big show they arrived over an hour late because their driver overslept from the muscle relaxers he took to ease the pain of a bulging disc that all but paralyzed his right side. I myself suffered back pain and a sore bursitis-ridden shoulder that right now can't even get a PB&J sandwich all the way to my mouth.

By lunchtime Saturday none of us could see straight or stand tall. I had just completely snapped on the event planner lady and screamed so loud I hurt my own ears. I was shaking and almost cried I was so mad. I never get that way! People left the kitchen momentarily to regroup. It was the quietest moment of the weekend. One of those awkward silences that you wish you wouldn't have caused. Hopefully my next blog won't be entitled "God Dammit I Did It Again".

So what does this have to do with molecular gastronomy? Now that you mention it...nothing.

Friday night was a Japanese themed plated dinner for 75 dignitaries and trustees to commemorate the 100 year anniversary. The menu:

Sushi (California Roll, Philadelphia Roll, Crunchy Shrimp Roll, Spicy Tuna Roll, Shrimp Nigiri)

Wasabi, Pickled Ginger, Soy Sauce

Salad of Baby Spinach, Mizuna, Sweet Radish, and Grapefruit, with Rice Wine/Miso Vinaigrette

Roasted Beef Tenderloin with Umami Foam

Spicy Lacquered Eggplant, Zucchini, and Sweet Potato

Banana-Sesame Upside-Down Cake with Strawberry Powder and Green Tea Whipped Cream

We bought the sushi. The idea was that presentations were to be Japanesely minimalistic. The salad was nice...salad. The foam didn't foam. We left the micro greens for the entree back in the kitchen across campus. The banana cake was beautiful and texturally interesting the day before when it was made. Unfortunately it wasn't possible to make them fresh as they should have been. The green tea whipped cream was pretty and tasted interesting, but needed something else...ginger juice maybe...and it went flat by service time. Strawberry powder as a condiment sounds better than it looks or tastes.

Not one of my prouder moments.

Ah well, as Etienne used to always say, "You'll never go broke underestimating the tastes of the American public". As far as I know they were all impressed and happy. I'm finding that many of these events at the college are more about the event than the food. Disheartening but sometimes a saving grace. The tenderloin was "spot on"!

I think that I'll continue experimenting with some of this new stuff. I was really into food science when I was in school 20 years ago. Surely there's something redeeming to it when the top rated restaurant on the planet hangs its hat on the invention of M.G.

Until then I'll keep it in the kitchen until I get good at it.

The Cold, Hard Winter

It was a cold, hard winter…

That was the first line of a book I started writing a few years ago. I’ve since tabled the book for of a number of reasons. One, the theme kept changing as the storyline developed. It was to be the story of a very bleak period in my life and some of the funny things that happened, some of the harsh drama I endured, and a lot of things I discovered about myself.

It started to become a tale of opinions and cynicism brought on by the world’s injustices. And then I went through a period (which has just recently ended) where I didn’t have a place or the resources to become and remain motivated and inspired to write.

So now, through a series of events that have brought me to point of not being able to sleep tonight, I find myself needing to write and to be read, so I am compromising my commitment to writing a food blog to air my innermost thoughts, struggles, and fears with whatever audience I have left on this nearly abandoned forum.

I went to Google and typed in a burning question that at least for the moment I don’t seem to have the answer to -- “How do I stop being an asshole?”

The first hit took me to a bulletin board where the first entry on the page was this…

The asshole inside me seems to keep getting larger. Masked in alcohol, snide comments and passive aggressive behavior. I can blame it on depression, or a shitty childhood, but really, I have to blame it on myself. I have had so many incredible opportunities, squandered most of them, bitterly, and been a shitty person dressed up as a funny man. I’ve also done some straight up asshole stuff like sleep with my friend’s wife, repeatedly. I can blame this on being lonely and rationalize it, but the fact is, that is something only an asshole would do. Also, little things, like expecting the world to treat you different than it does everybody else. Like I deserve better. That’s super asshole stuff, that is a daily thing. Looking down on people is a big part of it I think. Thinking you’re better than them, and not wanting the friends you have because they’re not good enough… but not liking people who think they’re better than you, or perceiving that… Authority issues? You bet. Asshole? Yes. I don’t like being an asshole. I don’t want to be an asshole, and yet – there it is.

I thought to myself, “now there’s a guy who understands me.” We could be great friends, though we’d probably hate each other by virtue of our impossible and insatiable personalities. I wondered if I had gotten up in my sleep one night and written that myself without realizing it.

So then I followed a link to a free personality quiz designed to inspire me to buy something and I took it (I haven’t bought anything yet).

The result...

You are a Self-Knowing Self-Improving Believer

1.40% of the 207164 people who have taken this quiz are like you.

Oh that’s super! It certainly explains a lot. It explains why I’ve gone through life thinking that I’m misunderstood. Hell, I am…by 98.6% of the people on the planet. No wonder I feel so alone most of the time.

Where’d all this come from? I’ll tell you where. I’ve been getting my ass kicked at this new job the last couple of weeks. I live and work in a town where the labor pool is right shallow, and the demands on our understaffed little enterprise have been relentless for a thus far brief period that seems to be without conclusion.

I have been working 12-16 hours a day for about a month now, and have to retrain most of my staff of 40+ people on a daily basis. I finally had the opportunity to take 2 days off for Labor Day weekend and the phone rang constantly. It was like being at work, except I sat at my “desk” naked and chain smoked while I put out the proverbial fires over the phone and tried to maintain a calm and peaceful demeanor.

My core staff, long-term employees are dropping like flies.

One is retiring at the end of this week, seemingly because she doesn’t like the coworker that has been assigned to assist her with the mundane and simplistic task of maintaining a salad bar. But more likely because she is unpleasantly faced with the inevitable results of the aging process and just doesn’t have the stamina to do the job anymore. It’s always easier to blame someone else.

One quit last week to avoid being fired for stealing from us twice in the last 3 weeks on camera.

One just enacted a leave of absence due to a complete emotional breakdown over her grandson’s recent suicide. Perfectly justified!

One got locked up for a month for reasons unbeknownst.

One walked out last week citing that he just can’t tolerate the work load anymore and he wants to see the world while he’s young.

And one is being forced to quit due to medical problems that quite possibly may soon result in the loss of his right foot. He came to me tonight and asked me if he can return to work after losing the foot because he can’t accept retirement and disability. I hugged him as a tear nearly fell from my eye, and told him that he will always have a job with us if I can help it.

And not unexpectedly, there is a faction of the ones that are left that speculate that all these people are leaving because of me, and they’re spreading rumors about me within upper management that is designed to return them to a lack of supervision that allows them to practice the art of sloth and mediocrity. The dangerous part of it all is that it just may work.

The stress level in my life has soared to unfathomable levels and sometimes…on occasion…however infrequently…it seeps out in ugly ways and unkind words in the “heat of passion”. Doesn’t help matters.

And then there’s my chief nemesis. A woman who I like, enjoy, and respect that is as stubborn and immovable as a house-sized granite mule. She means well and has a desirable level of skill at her assigned job, but we just don’t see things in the same light. Unfortunately, she is the one person that I need to have an indivisible alliance with, and I’m really struggling with this. To all appearances it is impossible for her. She is an island.

She is a manager to whom I am equal on the organizational chart, but she fancies herself (in my opinion) the “lead dog”. She has turned our operation upside down, pissed off everyone around her, and is only interested in pleasing our client 100% at all costs. A noble and just interest, but she doesn’t seem to get that doing so within the boundaries of her vision requires resources and collective talent that we don’t currently possess. She’s not the one that has to do the work…and she doesn’t.

Now mind you, the last 19 years of my life have been for the most part focused on self-improvement (with intermittent success). The last month hasn’t been. It’s been about survival. I hate “survival mode”!

I want very much what most humans do…to be liked, loved, admired, desired, and respected. Funny how God seems to have molded my personality in ways that contradict all that is good and pure in human striving. Then I think that it’s this damned business. Why would he give me this one gift and talent that I can’t use successfully? This has always been my struggle, and in 19 years I have not been able to assign a viable and consistent remedy to it.

So tonight I will have another cigarette and return to bed where I will lie awake for a short while reflecting, praying, meditating, and wondering what I will return to tomorrow morning and how it will all turn out. I will try not to lie awake talking to myself...having that conversation with “her” in which I will tell her everything she deserves to hear in order for me to solve our relational problems by getting my way.

I will try to remind myself that I got this job by asking God to give me the perfect job working for an employer who thinks I’m the perfect employee. And I will continue to look only for my part in the misshapen chaos that has become my career…again!

Namaste

"The light within me honors the light within you."

Today was one of the days I’ve been waiting for!

Once the school year gets started, we do a “Taste Changer” once a week; something to keep the kids excited and break up the day-to-day routine. We set up a separate buffet table and put out a small spread with a theme. Might be a different culture’s cuisine, could be a table of upscale desserts…one week we’re doing a bunch of different hot cobblers. Just something different. For our first one I chose Flavors of India, mainly because I love Indian food and there ain’t none in Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Our company has been doing a lot of Indian stuff, and there is supposed to be a line of products available to me to pull some off with, but I can’t get it at my place. In fact, here’s a list of a few other things I can’t get:

Lentils, wild rice, Sriracha sauce, rice noodles, whole cumin, whole cardamom, herbal tea, cinnamon sticks, basmati rice, cous cous, Chinese oyster sauce, hoisin sauce, turnips, rutabagas, seedless watermelons…the list goes on and on.

Seems that the nation’s largest wholesale supplier of food has their most ill-stocked branch in Memphis...the home of ribs, the blues, and Elvis. You would think that such a large city would be more amply equipped to handle the tastes of a diverse population, but I guess they’re not really that diverse over there...pretty much just ribs, blues, and Elvis.

It was kind of embarrassing that I could not accurately represent (and celebrate) the world’s most poverty stricken culture because the tiny legume that has prevented them from slipping into extinction for over 3000 years is only available to me in a fancy little 10 pound box at $35.00 (plus shipping) and a one week wait. Oh well.

So we started out the morning toasting about 4 pounds of various whole spices, chopping ginger, garlic, and mint, and opening cans of garbanzo beans and tomato products. The chicken, potatoes, onions, peppers, and eggplant had been cut the day before…about 200# of chicken thighs, 50# of potatoes, and a bushel or so of onions and peppers. We used something like 3 pounds of mint, 5 pounds of ginger, 3 pounds of garlic, 40 pounds of eggplant, and a gallon and a half of olive oil (should’ve been melted butter or “ghee”).

Our bakers cranked out hand rolled “naan” flatbread the night before, and rolled about a gazillion little dough balls that became the most incredible little “galub jamun”. This is India’s one great dessert in my opinion, and I can eat these things all day and night!

They’re made from dry milk powder, flour, baking powder, and yogurt. You deep fry them and plunge them into divine pool of sugar syrup scented with cardamom and rose water. Then you eat the heck out of ‘em!

They were great, but not the only good thing we had. We made as good a batch of Chicken Vindaloo as I’ve ever had, some kickin’ Saag Paneer (curried spinach with cheese), Eggplant and Chickpeas Kottu Style, Vegetable Biryani, and the ubiquitous Mint Chutney and Onion Relish that is customary at most Indian eateries (except ours was better).

The campus Indian organization showed up with a display that rivaled anything that we conjured up (awkward), and as far as I could tell the feast was a complete hit! The only problem was that I was too busy to sit down and eat any of it, and I’m really feeling bad about that now as I sit here and snack on peppered beef jerky and habanero barbecue almonds.

Now here’s a funny thing I learned just the other day about India…

I’ve always known that India is made of mainly of Hindus and Muslims, but you usually only hear about the Hindus. They greatly revere cows and are frequently vegetarians. Throughout India (with some exceptions) you typically don’t see pork on the menu. We’ve hired a number of Indian students this year and it turns out that some of them are Muslims.

How I know this is that last weekend I stopped by to check on a couple guys that were making omelets, and neither of them would put ham in the omelets they were making (which were otherwise very beautifully crafted). Even with gloves on and 8” tongs they refused to handle the ham at this time of the year citing the fact that we are in the middle of Ramadan.

Ramadan (for those unfamiliar) is the month long Muslim holy season during which Muslims (among other customs) are not to eat while the sun is up, and are apparently not to have any contact whatsoever with pork. So I've got a third non-Muslim employee standing between serving only the purpose of applying ham to the occasional egg pan.

I asked one of the guys who refused to handle pork during Ramadan if he was fasting. He said, “No, I’m not that orthodox”.

I like Galub Jamun!

Feeding the 5000

Jesus did it with just a couple loaves of bread and a fish or two…and we did it with 45 dozen eggs, 4 or 5 cases of Pillsbury biscuits, several gallons of non-sausage gravy, 60 pounds of bacon, 250 pounds of pork barbecue, a mountain of macaroni & cheese, 400 or so hamburgers, 150 pounds of flank steak, 120 pounds of roasted turkey breast (with cranberry sauce, gravy, and dressing), several cases of “imitation” shrimp (didn’t know it existed), a ton of cookies, rolls, cake, and the likes, a couple hundred pizzas (when we could get ‘em out), and a whole bunch of other stuff. And we’ve repeated the miracle everyday this week!

I never saw anything like it, but what a rush! We pulled it off and everyone was happy.

Classes are officially in session at ASU and playtime is over.

It was a fun time this summer though and we did some fun stuff. A few weeks ago we prepared one of the nicest dinners I’ve done in years.

Pan Seared Tuna with Wasabi Potato Salad, Asian Chili Sauce, and Pickled Onions

Crab and Avocado Salad with Salmon Tartare, Citrus Cream, Vanilla Bean Essence, and Sesame/Ginger Crackers

Champagne/Black Currant Granite

Boneless Southern Quail stuffed with Wild Mushrooms, Smoked Ham, and Leeks over Red Quinoa and Black Pepper Demi-Glace

Pork Tenderloin and Pan Seared Sea Scallop with Cucumber “Noodles”, Port/Soy Glaze, and Spicy Corn Salad

Chef’s Selection with Grapes, Apples, and Toasted Nuts

Panna Cotta with Honey, Fresh Figs, Toasted Hazelnuts, and Blueberry Leather

Flavored Handmade Marshmallows and Chocolates

This was a meal for about 36 people that we do every year. The host is a friend of the Chancellor and Vice Chancellor, and a world traveler with a discriminating palate. When it was all over, my staff and I received a standing ovation, and a letter of praise the next morning stating that it was the best meal ever prepared for this event.

Over the course of the summer we made a lot of food for summer camp groups of 15 to 450, with as many as 1000 per meal period during the height of the season. And I found out the hard way that young children apparently don’t care for lima beans or shrimp & grits. Football players eat the hell out of most anything you put out (especially lasagna), and women volleyball players are cuter than cheerleaders (they like lasagna too).

The school year kicked off last Sunday night with a customary Luau that was attended by about 1000 students, mostly new to ASU, complete with roasted pig, plastic leis and karaoke.

We had a couple of casualties over the summer too.

A retail supervisor stopped by one Saturday night/Sunday morning and helped himself to $1000 out of the safe (that he had a key to). Told the police he was gambling and needed the money. Said that he thought he would make it back and return it, but “that didn’t work out”. He’s doing 2 years.

One of my catering staff kidnapped his son from his wife and fled to Florida, where he intended to find a job, live with relatives, and file for divorce. A few weeks later the wife went to Florida and got the kid. Now the cook is back in Arkansas minus a wife, a kid, and a job.

Another cook left work one day and shoplifted something from a nearby store. She was wearing her chef coat with company logo and her name embroidered on it. Police stopped by work the next morning looking for her, but she’s never been back.

My boss, who I love dearly, was reassigned to another campus in Missouri at our client’s request.

And one of our banquet servers was arrested for molestation of a minor and possession of child pornography. He won’t be back.

Hell, even I got a ticket from a campus policeman for running a stop sign…but I’m fighting that one next week in court. I didn’t really run the stop sign (I don’t think). I’ll let you know what happens.

So there’s no telling what’ll be next. Football season starts next weekend and supposedly I’m in for a whole new color in my paint box.

Until next time…

What In The Hell Is Chocolate Gravy?

I don't know, but they sure lap it up in northeast Arkansas!

It's the end of another semester for students at Arkansas State University and exams begin tomorrow. To fuel the late night study sessions we put on a "late night" breakfast that couldn't be beat. I don't know how one would go forth and retain vital academia tonight, but they are certainly well fed.

From 9 o'clock to about 10:15 tonight we fed about 800 students sausage, eggs, bacon, ham, grits, hashbrowns, oatmeal, rice (Arkansas thing), pancakes, french toast, biscuits and gravy--and chocolate gravy. Imagine my mom's amazing chocolate cream pie filling (basically a chocolate pastry cream made with flour instead of cornstarch) thinned down a little and served warm. They gobbled up three gallons of the stuff and I made 3 more gallons on the fly. Wow!

We also put out a chocolate fountain. Anyone who went to a wedding in the 90's should be familiar with this foul appliance that features molten chocolate cascading down a series of tiers to drench spectator wielded skewers adorned with strawberries, pretzels, marshmallows, and the likes.

And, we did a "waffles and ice cream" bar that blew me away with lack of attendence. Who wouldn't drool over crispy hot waffles piled high with ice cream, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and any number of your standard sundae toppings? The same people that pour warm pudding over a biscuit and call it heaven, that's who.

When I spent my externship summer on the Jersey shore I became addicted to waffles and ice cream at Seaside Heights on the boardwalk. Must be a northern thing.

Now chicken-n-waffles I totally don't get, but that's another story. I think that's a southern thing from a different South than I grew up in.

Anyway, I was going to tell you more about my journey to Arkansas, but I never got around to writing it, and the more I thought about it the less exciting it became.

There was a stopover in Memphis at the infamous Rendezvous rib joint. These ribs have been written about by every food writer that has ever visited Memphis, and I was inspired by them back in '99 myself. But in 2009 "the thrill is gone". Dry, not-so-meaty, tough, and over-priced.

Then there was a week in Pittsburgh where I failed to dine at one of America's most famous sandwich shops, Primanti Brothers, though I walked by it half a dozen times. Stupid.

I did stop into Essie's Original Hot Dog Shop and had what Gourmet Magazine once named America's 4th Best Hot Dog. It was #1 on my list so far! All the locals made fun of me for paying $6.00 for a hot dog, but what do they know? I'd do it again every time!

I asked my Pitt connection for good Italian within walking distance. He directed me about 6 blocks away (in the snow) to Joe Mama's, home of the 1/2 pound meatball. I had one...on a bed of the worst spaghetti I've ever had, tossed in the worst sauce imaginable. The spaghetti had been under-salted and over-cooked the day before, and then to add insult to injury they reheated it in a strainer held under running hot water out of the tap--and they didn't shake off the excess water. The big-ass meatball was pretty good though. Hell, who could hate a meatball the size of a baby's head?

The walls are covered with ubiquitous autographed head shots of celebrities that have graced the place since the 60's. I was seated next to a late 70's era (Jerry's hair was still black) promo shot of the Grateful Dead with the inscription, "Thanks Joe. Your pasta is to DIE FOR! - The Grateful Dead"

To warm up the cold pasta in my belly they brought me out about a pound-and-a-half of steaming hot white chocolate bread pudding swimming in melted white chocolate and bourbon. I told the server I would need to change my shorts. I didn't feel it necessary to tell her that I wasn't wearing any, but I thought about it. Coulda been the whiskey.

Other than the bread pudding and the Dead pic--and the cute college girls--Joe Mama's sucks!

So now I'm back in Arkansas and I absolutely love my new job! After a life of fine-dining and food snobbery I find it a far more exhilarating challenge to make school food look and taste good! If you'd have told me 20 years ago where I'd be today I'd have laughed--just before I pulled the trigger. But knowing what I know now I wouldn't be anywhere else!

Check back soon...there'll be some good ones come from this!

Oh, did I tell you I saw Elvis sitting at a bus stop in front of Graceland on my way through Memphis? Next time maybe.

On The Road...Again

I am happy to report...no...THRILLED...to report that I have left my home town of Charlotte, NC once again! On my birthday, April 6, I began as Executive Chef at Arkansas State University in Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Jonesboro is the 5th largest city in Arkansas and one of the most progressive. We are in the northeast corner of the state about 70 miles from Memphis, Tennessee. Nestled among hundreds of thousands of acres of rice, corn, cotton, and soybeans, Jonesboro is a home to Riceland Foods (the world's largest rice grower and manufacturer) as well as many other well known companies. Nestle and Frito Lay also have a large presence.

I work for Sodexo, one of the largest contract foodservice companies in the world. I must say that so far I am quite impressed with my company's commitment to excellence and to its employees. They've sure been nice to me!

Arkansas State has a student population of around 11,000 and specializes in agriculture, but offers a comprehensive list of education programs and has an active athletic program.

As is usually the case with my many travels and relocations, I have spent some time during the move checking out some well known eateries and getting my fill of yummy Americana.

My last couple nights at home featured mom's amazing chocolate cream pie and a goodbye dinner with half a dozen close friends at one of Charlotte's few decent Thai restaurants (Thai Taste). The little Thai people lit me up with Red Curry Crispy Duck (#6 heat on a scale from 1-5). My hair began sweating and I went into hallucinations. Why the Chinese place around the corner couldn't do that for me I'll never know.

Day one of the journey led me to my old friend Joe Scully's place in Asheville, The Corner Kitchen. Joe and I were at CIA around the same time, though we never met until years later. He returned after graduation and did a fellowship at the Institute. He worked for Mark Ericsson, CMC (Certified Master Chef) at Cherokee Town and Country Club outside of Atlanta where he and the Chef developed a company called Woodsmoke Provisions (and the country's best smoked salmon), and he served as Executive Chef at the United Nations building in NYC.

Today Chef Scully is co-owner of arguably the top restaurant in Asheville, NC where he changes the menu daily and feeds more people than he can seat. He fed me an Italian Cuban Sandwich with Joe's Veggie Chips and Pea Salad, and a nearly authentic Key Lime Pie (he's made a couple small liberties that add a little pizazz to the original).

The sandwich featured turkey, prosciutto, smoked mozzarella, chimichurri aioli, tomatoes, and arugula (sorry, no pickles on mine) layered between two pieces of foccacia and pressed on a hot grill. Perfect!

My server talked me into the pea salad. I knew it would have mayonnaise in it (another no-no for me) and I hesitated. Boy was I glad I went for it! Green peas that I'd swear were freshly shucked are tossed with sugar snaps, sour cream, red onion, and bacon...oh...and just a little mayo. What a simple and fabulous way to kick off spring!

I knew Joe's chips well. Remember Terra Chips, those overpriced crisps made from a variety of tropical root vegetables? Joe does the same thing, but his are made fresh a couple times a day. Sometimes you can get 'em still warm. Thin slices of roots like potato, plantain, and taro are slow fried in clean oil to make them light and crispy without darkening their color or adulterating their delicate flavors with too much caramelization.

I left The Corner Kitchen feeling so healthy, and it was great to see Joe. You should stop by an see him too next time you're in the NC mountains. You'll be glad you did. Tell him I sent you.

Next stop Memphis, home of barbecue and blues! Stop back soon to see what happened!

On A Personal Note

For a number of years I have done private/personal chef work either as a main job or as supplemental income. Back in the 90's I started doing this stuff with a buddy and colleague and we named our little business Professional Home Dining (PHD for short).

The whole thing kicked off with a high-end wine dinner for a guy here in Charlotte that had something to do with the Charlotte Hornets basketball team. Never figured out if he was a doctor, or a lawyer, or what he was.

I've had the opportunity to offer my services as an item for charity auctions. Those are always fun, and it's amazing how frenzied the bidders get about any chef at all.

In Phoenix I served as personal chef for the President/CEO of the Fender guitar company Bill Shultz and his wife Mary Jane. [I also groomed their little Bichon Frise, Molly].

I've had a lot of fun getting to know people over the years and serving their most candid culinary desires! In all of the free time I've had lately I've put a lot of effort into learning how to design a website...so I have one now! I'm about to embark on a new journey and a new chapter in my career (tell you more about that later), but I'll always be around to do private events, cooking lessons, demos, and professional consulting.

I finally finished my website and this is just a quick note to invite you along...

Professional Home Dining
(professionalhomedining.com)

See you there!

PS- Those plump, delicious looking Morels up top there were actually discovered and plucked from the ground by yours truly in the spring of 2006 at Beech Mountain, NC!

Star@ucked

"There's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear."
- Stephen Stills

Ever think about some of the food you loved as a kid, or even more recently? Ever wonder why you can't get it anymore? Me too.

Change is good--sometimes. But sometimes I don't get what people are thinking. I was just reminiscing about some of the fast food giants in America and the products they offered that made them what they were.

A few years ago (probably close to 20 now that I think about it) there was a a little fast-food restaurant named Frank-R-Furters that had a slogan, "What America needs is a good 19-cent hamburger." They had hamburgers for 19 cents, and cheeseburgers were something like a quarter. I stopped in and got a couple one day...and after consuming them with all the gusto of a hound dog I said to myself, "You know...what America needs is a GOOD 19-cent hamburger."

Frank-R-Furters didn't last. And there was another group that tried to cash in on the obvious success of the fast-food genre by offering a low-cost burger that was delivered via drive-thru with lightning speed. Can't remember their name, but I drove through one day and ordered a plain cheeseburger. I don't do vegetables or condiments (I know...weird), and when I say plain I mean PLAIN. A patty, slice of cheese, and two pieces of bread. That's all I'm looking for. So the voice on the other end of the speaker box say, "All of our burgers come with ketchup, mustard, and a pickle. We can't make them any other way. Would you like one of ours?"

No.

Seriously. Is it a surprise they didn't make it to Christmas that year?

Just last night I had the experience of a lifetime. I'm still scratching my head over this one.

I don't drink coffee like I used to, and frankly since the first Starbucks opened in my town in 1996 or so I was sucked in and seldom open my mind to anything else. I have often defended them to the opposition by stating that if anyone else was able to produce such a high quality product with such consistency they would be as successful as Starbucks too. I even worked for the caffeine magnate for a short time.

Through a series of events in early 2000 I cut out the regular stuff and only drink decaf now, and I stopped by an oft visited branch last night for a cup. After some confusion the cute little barista girl looked at me and I thought she was about to ask what I wanted. It was kind of weird because she took my friend's order and then went back to doing her cleaning tasks, having never said a word to me. She thought that I had already been helped, though it never occurred to her that I had walked in with the guy whose order she had just taken, and that she was the only one taking orders. How could she have...oh, nevermind.

Another barista walked up and I ordered a small decaf coffee. He rang me up, took my money, and then walked off. After a couple of minutes he came back and it occurred to him that no one was making my order. Must have been the perplexed expression on my face. So he says, "Oh, I thought she had already made your order, plus we don't make decaf after 12-noon. I can make you an Americano (espresso and hot water) or something else."

So when you took my money for the small decaf, what did you mean by that exactly?

"Can you make me an Americano for the same price as the regular cup of coffee?"

"I guess so."

"Because I would expect that"

"Well", he responded snottily, "It's not our policy, but I'll do it this time."

OK, let's review this deal here... You're Starbucks. You make and sell coffee. IT'S ALL YOU DO!

You make two kinds...regular and decaf. There is nothing else. Okay, yeah sure, there are some with milk, some with froth, some with chocolate, some with flavored syrups, some cold or even frozen...but essentially you make regular and decaffeinated COFFEE.

JUST DO THAT!

When did you decide that after 12 o'clock in the afternoon you would cut your product line in half, thereby forcing your loyal customers who drive out of their way to get to you, and don't want to drink a mug full of speed at bedtime, to pay more for being your customer? Why do you think that this is acceptable?

This is where it starts.

When I was younger Wendy's slogan was "Hot and Juicy". They had an ad campaign that implied that you had to have a huge stack of napkins to eat one of their burgers. California's Carl's Jr. revived this long deceased campaign with, "If it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face." Of course, then they put Paris Hilton out there as one of the spokespeople for this concept...'nuff said.

When's the last time you ate at Wendy's? Was it either hot or juicy? Not mine. Why did they discontinue this line of marketing? Was it because they changed their products and they could no longer back up the claims? Or was it because our culture sickened to the point that the Hot & Juicy slogan began to be associated with little Wendy and not her daddy's delicious burgers?

They had a chicken sandwich that was incredible. Chicken Cordon Bleu. Nice, tender, moist, fried chicken breast with high quality thin-sliced ham, Swiss cheese (that melted onto the chicken), and a sauce made from Grey Poupon mustard. Man was that thing tasty. Can't get it anymore. Why?

They had a burger too that they threw on as a special from time to time. Couple patties on a soft cornmeal-dusted bun with grilled onions and cheddar cheese sauce. Might have had some bacon involved as well. Now that was a good burger, and it brought back the need for mucho napkins! Can't have that one today either. But then again, today no amount of bubbling liquid cheese would effectively counteract the powder dry squares of lukewarm ground meat on little Wendy's sagging buns.

When I was a kid I looked forward to getting a Yumbo from Burger King, and an Ice Br-Gr (burger). The Yumbo was simply a hot ham and cheese sandwich on a sesame seed bun. The ham was piled high and tender, and the cheese may have been that white American stuff, or maybe not, but it was a damned good sandwich for when you're just tired of burgers. The Ice Br-Gr was a little frozen juice dessert, kind of like a popsicle without a stick. I know they had grape and I don't remember what else, but it was yummy. All that was back when Burger King "flame broiled" everything. Today about the only time you see a flame at a Burger King is if you accidentally catch the cooks smoking crack out by the dumpster.

Church's Chicken used to have chicken legs the size of my arm. Oversized pieces of chicken were their trademark. Not anymore. Today Hooter's wings are bigger than Churches legs (though Church's breasts are real), and you have to ask for the jalapeno that they used to throw in whether you wanted it or not.

And there was a Holly Farms chicken place that invented those soft, spicy batter-dipped potato wedges that you can only get at low-end grocers and truck stops now. Damn those things were good.

Little Caesar's always had crappy pizza, but they used to have this sandwich called the Big Deal Veal. One of those little fried mystery-meat breaded veal patties was enrobed in pretty decent marinara and a slice of provolone, and then stuffed into a half of a pita pocket. I could down those suckers by the six pack on a Friday night during my high school daze. I still crave them today and I'm coming up on my 25th high school reunion.

When I lived in California the first time Carl's Jr. won me over with a Western Steak Sandwich that featured a grilled, chunked-and-formed (though you'd never know it) steak on a soft sub roll with bacon, barbecue sauce, cheese, and onion rings. I'd eat those things twice a day. And on the off days I'd get the Spicy Western Chicken Sandwich that combined a fried breast with Pepper Jack cheese and chunky bacon ranch sauce. Damn! Both delectables were gone when I returned 5 years later. Too bad Carl. Guess it's just In-N-Out for me now.

Now there's a burger place. Never been to In-N-Out? Don't know what to tell you. They have burgers, fries, milkshakes, and sodas. Nothing fancy. But for some reason they do it better than anyone else in the biz, though you have to head west to find out for yourself.

Dairy Queen used to have the best burgers--and ice cream too. Not anymore. I still crave the footlong cheese dogs that dad used to take me to get at Wiener King (long deceased). Cadbury Creme Eggs and Reese's Cups seem to get smaller every year, and I'd swear that Hershey's Kisses are made from different chocolate and that M&M's changed something in the flavoring of the candy shells.

I know it's tough. Being a chef and a 25 year veteran of the food business I am fully aware that customers are like fish. They troll around mindlessly until the next shiny thing passes catches their eye and they're gone. Human nature stuff. And just when you think you've got it all figured out, the rules change

You know who hasn't changed? Two places... McDonalds and a handful of Greek owned neighborhood grills and "greasy spoons" in town. Two in particular in my town, Zack's and Mr. K's, have been going since before I was born, and they have the same size of the same burger that they've been making since their inception. That's why I keep going back. The original owners of both are still alive, but their kids run the businesses. I'm on a first name basis with them, and it saddens me to see some new concepts coming in and stealing their customers.

Every town has at least one. My all-time favorite is actually in Spartanburg, SC--The Beacon Drive-In. I've written about them before. They ain't changed nothin' in 60 years!

And Mickey D's? The same old phrase, "It ain't great, but it's always the same. You know what you're gonna get". That's why they're the most successful business in the history of food. Always will be.

Why can't everyone else just get that?