Oh no he dih’ent…
Yup.
Been there.
Done that.
This was literally the only photo I had time to sneak.
To those well tuned to the international staging scene,
you may be skeptical to my claim of working in Daniel,The flagship restaurant of Chef Daniel Boulud. That would make sense, because it’s a fact that he does not
accept stagiaires off the street and also I tend to lie for attention. However,
and I am seriously being serious here, I got lucky. A know a guy who knows a
guy who knows a guy conveniently at the helm of this Three-Michelin rated establishment.
After a couple email exchanges sent back and forth to
establish how runnnn-Forest-runnnn lucky I was and other details, I was on my
way. Immediately upon arrival I set myself apart from the rest of the
English-speaking world by misreading simple emailed instructions and accidentally
entered into the main dining room to report for duty.
So I got to see the F.O.H.
The B.O.H. is intimidating at first. There is a lot going on. Boulud runs his catering company from the
same property so there are like, 50 quadhundred Cooks running past you with
whole cuts of everything at all times. The staff are ridiculously polite if you follow universal laws of the
kitchen (Never use someones knife without permission, always yell out “BEHIND” when passing by, and if it happens in a kitchen, its not gay), and nobody says anything
dumb.
I had nothing to do with the catering aspect but everything
to do with the restaurant. As usual, I
was stationed with multiple high-octane stressed out Cooks to help out with prep and basically ask
whatever I wanted to about the menu.
It’s obviously French. Go online
and read it here.
What caught my
attention in the kitchen was their strong emphasis for classic techniques. You are making a fava bean coulis? Blanch, shock, shuck, and vita-mix using beautiful
veg stock. No u-tex, xanthum, kitten
bone marrow or corn starches. Just
classic and perfect methods. That was my
big take away. Now it seems like most spots I
have worked before this were simply thinking too hard about technique.
The kitchen is hard to describe. Picture a square-style European professional
kitchen (with the range as your center), but turned into a triangle shape. Add some video monitors of the outside and
F.O.H. to gauge rushes or to creep on the celebrity guests and you got a Three-Michelin
rated DB kitchen.
To simply say the service is tight and controlled would be
an exercise in lazy writing. What is
truly bath salts fantastic at Daniel is most dishes are plated by Executive
Chef Jean-Francois Bruel or Chef de Cuisine Eddy Leroux. Here,
Cooks cook. While I was impressed to see
both Chefs working, it paled in comparison to when I was told to stand back
and observe Daniel Boulud, wearing his whites, expedite food.
I need to frame this into proper context for everyone to understand. A Cook being told to stand near the pass so Daniel
Boulud can start service is much along the lines of hearing, “Hey, can you sit
tight for a few so Neil here can warm up?”
So there I was, all 6’0” of me squeezing into what I hoped
was a tiny ball of invisibility so as to not interrupt what obviously was world
renowned culinary history in the happening.
I felt like a time traveler going way back in the past trying not to
disturb anything in fear that I and I alone would screw up the future forever.
It was then when I nonchalantly shifted my weight from one foot to the other
and pumped an elbow right into the ribs of Boulud himself. In reality, it was not a big deal. I did not launch him or really do anything
aside from simply glance a man right in his chest cavity…where his heart is… I just
happened to physically touch him as he attempted to squeak by. However, that doesn’t matter. In my mind, I
had just sucker punched Mother Theresa in the back of the head. Up to this point, we had not yet met. He slowly turned, gracefully looked upwards to
my shivering soul and said “..and you are?”.
Sporting a grin like a contestant in the Miss America Pageant,
I answered “Jerek!” as I launched a hand out to show him I was not crazy.
A little jumpy and cautiously
reaching for my hand, he said, “Uh-huh, and how did you get here?”
Me (still smiling): “A Chef I know, well, knows your Chef de
Cuisine…”
DB: ”Eddy.”
Moi: “ and…Yes, Eddy! and so I am observing…”
DB: ”Ahhhhhh, great, I see.” Relaxing, he said, “ We
normally do not accept stagiaires here, but you know Eddy…”
Moi: “I do.” (Stopped shaking his hand about here)
DB: “So I hope you have a great time and you are here for
the weekend?”
Moi “Yes Chef” I said as I started to calm down my
breathing.
DB: “Excellent. What
do you think of my food?”
Moi “An epiphany.” (Kudos for the quick originality in that
answer)
DB: “Great, Thank you!”
Moi: “THANK YOU CHEF!!!” I said slightly too desperate, as
we ended our direct encounter.
I stayed the weekend.
All in all it was as great as the reputation makes them out to be. I left them on the highest note I could
expect (contact info was offered all around) and I cannot wait to go back to
NYC just to be around them again. This
was true cooking at its finest.
So I really suck at maintaining a consistent and predictable timeline for this blog.
FOR NOW ON I WILL SCREW MYSELF BY FORECASTING THE NEXT BOHK ENTRY. So, every two weeks seems like a good
idea.
NEXT FUN-TASTIC BLOG WILL BE POSTED AUGUST 4th, 2012!
-Jerek
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