On the surface, there should be nothing that bothersme about shark fin soup.
Like most things I love, it contains a richchickenstock. In fact, the recipes I looked at for this even include pork stock, which obviously makes me want to become violent with happiness. Fundamentally, these are two factors that will make anything taste frickin' tops.
So what's not to like, negative Jerek, 2013 version?
The fin part of shark fin soup is what bothers me.
I suppose as a Chef I shouldn't be so bothered by the soup because they use shark and I have a personal love for them, and I'm not.
I also do not oppose it because it offers no flavor, or that its an overrated product which comes from a prehistoric beast were the meat should be marinated in milk before cooking to extract the piss out of it (really!). I don't.
As a Chef, I am offended by the same reasons everyone else is;
5% yield makes you a douche.
National Geographic conservatively estimates 38 million sharks are killed each year globally just for their fins. As a side, often the meat is worth less then 10% by weight compared to the fins, so, not being worth its space on the boat, the fin-less shark, still alive, is cast overboard. Not only is this the dickiest thing you can do on a boat, but keep in mind, this is done for a soup used exclusively as a status symbol.
That is, this is not something used for the greater good like, to cure cancer or do something about my receding hairline... This isn't even eaten because the taste is nip-slip awesome.
No.
The soup's purpose is to tell people they have lots of money.
That is a lame reason for 38 million sharks to fatally twitch towards the bottom of the sea yearly.
I am very happy to let the photos in this blog do the talking as I AM NOW A JUNIOR SOUS CHEF AT THE FAIRMONT ROYAL YORK and really do not have much time to be witty and charming through words. Instead, my photos shall do the flirting for me.
I need to say this about Gramercy Tavern; Out of all the places I got to work in NYC, this was by far my runaway favorite. I have never watched such a united bunch of cohesive professionals before. Without exception, all of them, from the response to my first email onward were outwardly dedicated to a belief that everyone coming into their business should be treated in the highest regard.
I remain stunned by my brief experience there and consider myself in their debt for hosting me. As far as I can tell, this is the best restaurant, front and back, I have ever seen.
To all the absolute professionals who call Gramercy Tavern home, THANK YOU!
I hope I find myself in a kitchen with you again someday.
-Jerek
My biggest take-away came from this sous chef (Samoan... totally misplaced his email...dammit...). He confronted every little issue that arrived during service right away. One cook getting annoyed at another? No matter the degree, he approached them and burnt out the issue before it fanned into anything big. Communication was outstanding during his expediting.
Squab, Barley and Roasted Asparagus
Striped Bass, Radish, Turnip, Bacon and Beet Broth
Roasted & Braised Lamb, Green Garlic, Spring Onions and Ruby Crescent Potatoes
Hake, Spring Onions, Asparagus and Radish
Black Bass, Sunchoke, Shiitake Mushrooms and Smoked Jalapeno
LAMB AGAIN!
They pan-roast the loin and baste it lovingly stove-top before letting it rest to perfection. It was worth posting another shot of it.
Chilled Asparagus Soup, Lobster and Hazelnuts
Ramp Custard, Shiitake Mushrooms and Watercress
Beef Carpaccio, Celery and Anchovy Aioli
Cooks and their All-Clad. Jealous.
An amazing example of the attention to detail at Gramercy Tavern.
Someone smart from ancient Greece once said that every good
deed is inherently done with selfish intentions.Or, at least something close to that, I dunno... Philosophy was hard and I cook now so shut up.Just sayin’ there is merit to what he said.
At their core, everyone in hospitality exist to serve others.To what degree and whether or not pandering
to guests is a high priority varies from douche-bagrestaurants that do not take reservations (and make you wait 1.5 hours
for a table) to amazing little known small town guys who remain off the radar but truly put the guests' experience on the front burner (The New Dundee Emporium).
The best in the industry know to anticipate guest needs and to be proactive towards each individual.The endeavor to give their guests a perfect
experience should be every hospitality workers main ideology.
The best part of being a cook is the instant gratification.
You show up (sober), plan a menu, prep, produce, pump out and have (drunk)
people thank you for an awesome time.Generally, guests that can afford to eat at the spots I cook at are really
nice peeps.In Canada, Chefs are respected
professionals and it’s a plus to mention you cook when talking with sexually magnificent
hotties, bodies, er, MY WIFE!.We’re fortunate because we do not have any obvious economic class
division.I love how I can cook for
people who happen to be worth billions but then have an insightful chat about their
personal vineyards afterword.“Yeah, I
have the SAME mould problem as your grapes, only in my bedroom walls….”.
Other areas I have visited
and spent time in a kitchen, Cooks are often regarded like second class citizens.It’s sad.Guests look at them with the same expression you would give your caller
ID when it shows a telemarketer.In 13
years I have only had two experiences where I was made to feel less than
totally awesome wearing whites.First
was a Bay Street Lawyer who publicly lectured me on the methods of a proper lobster bisque; “Iiiiii liiiikkkeee to use the insides of the lobster…. Do
you know what thats called?”
Moi; “Ah, lobster
bisque 101 AND WHY WON’T YOU MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ME???”.
And second, there is
nothing fun about having a shithead ten year old snap his fingers at you to
make an omelet.In hindsight, I should
totally have taken him.
This brings me to what really is the heart of passion in
hospitality.Recently, while on a grand
tour doing big stagiaires at some of the world’s most blahblabblabhblahblah, my
schedule unexpectedly opened up for a day. A whole day of nothing.Except I was in NYC and if there was one
thing I wanted to do without the need for a new line of credit, it was to experience time in a soup kitchen.
To me, nothing is more gratifying then to serve those that
most appreciate what they’re receiving.It’s a selfish magical experience.You feel really good about yourself while concurrently helping people
who are in a position you could not imagine being in. What pierces into me every time and anywhere I have been is more often than not, they look you right
in the eyes and thank you.It’s both a positive
and heart aching moment. You look past the rough hides and speculated back stories, to see the
honest sincerity they give back. It exerts some of the finest points of human
essence at its purist.
So there I was at 9:00 am in New York.I was sipping a designer Americano and
walking towards Holy Apostles Soup Kitchen when I turned the last corner to
find a lineup of 200 people deep, obviously waiting for the place to open.These were not the volunteers and the kitchen
opened at 10:30.
SOooo here's the thing, and I am totally not to cool to admit this,
but what the hell, honest writing is good writing.
I quickened my pace, avoided eye contact, and walked right past the kitchen and
line up.
Um…
Okay.
Let me just say, if I had been standing in that lineup of
200 people… You would pick me out if you heard that Sesame Street Songs that
goes; “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is
just not the same…”
Awful right?
I walked past while asking what had I gotten myself into. I turned the corner a block later and hated the timid bed wetter in me.These people are hungry now. They have no time for uptown issues I have. I did believe these guests are fundamentally better then me. They deserve the best. Nobody knew I was here doing this.Nobody would ever know if I never went. But I
would. Talk is cheap. Time to walk.
I turned around, politely cut through the line and entered
the church.
Do you know how many people the 30 daily volunteers feed in
2 hours? We had an average day, 1221.
I walked in and spoke with someone with a wire sticking from
their ear and said I was a “Chef from a big hotel in Toronto”. They were thankful, gave a smile/smock and instructed me
to wait for the position details to be announced.
I was given highest volunteer honors by
being assigned as Champion Protein Server* in the lead production line ("Jerek, Protein, Line 1!") .
It was frigging hard. Carpal tunnel will
catch up to me anytime now.
To my utter surprise, the paid Chef and regular volunteers take their jobs really serious.Like,
Asshole michelin place serious. After sensing the stern vibe, I became concerned I may not perform precisely as they required and consequently would be
yelled at.Luckily, I was stationed
next to an adorable, but hapless primary school teacher who bore the brunt of their venting and
so I was spared.
:(
Honesty making good writing,
…I should say I also passively
screwed him a little by moving quicker then he could do his job cleanly.
Sorry man, I never said I was a good guy.
There are places like Apostles Soup Kitchen everywhere.You love to cook? Go.Like me, this is where you may find your core
values as a human being.
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!
