In the spirit of Influence...

Influence.

In an entire lifetime/career, we can usually pinpoint very specific moments which determine the course upon which our lives follow. This week is officially the halfway point for me and my tenure here in Spain. In this week I thought much about a few of the moments in my life that led me to only here, but to follow this path.

My first serious food memory was from when I must have been about three years old (an assumption only because I think I can remember my brother being born already) , and though I often try to think back to other moments of importance, this is the most distinct one. I remember my dad cooking squid with garlic in our kitchen in Cohoes, New York. I can't remember much of the peripherals, but I remember the smells of toasting garlic and black pepper, the sound of the semi-moist tentacles kissing the hot oil and inciting a near flare up, and image of the squid quickly coagulating and seizing. That was it, the entire symphony of senses culminating with taste of calimari. This week I had a moment not so much unlike that in the movie Ratatouille when the critic, Anton Ego, tastes the Ratatouille and is snapped back to a moment in his childhood. One of the days this week we were serving a new apertivo course dish with baby squid (or chupitos) and Andoni was demonstrating with the first few how he wanted them cooked and such for the chef de parties. It was eery to watch and cross fade in my head the visual memory of my Dad cooking that first squid and the live image of Andoni testing out these precious little baby squid which underwent much meticulous prep. Techniques: in full circle.

My dad cooking in the Old House

The current incarnation of Squid at Mugaritz (with baby carrots and arbequina olives)

A few years later when I was in elementary school, my mom took me out to dinner at a fancy restaurant (The Mansion Hill Inn) for my birthday, maybe in fourth or fifth grade. It was funny because I was ambivalent to the experience at the time honestly, it seemed fun, but I could have given or taken it. None the less, it was an early peek at the restaurant world and I remember it was one of the first times I had lobster in a restaurant. Though by now, my image of the meal is quite antiquated, I remember the lobster was served with a stew of corn, tomatoes and the claws, with the butter-poached tail sitting on top of Israeli Cous Cous. I too experienced a "deja vu" of this experience during a stage at Per Se in May of 2007. Come to think about it, almost exactly 12 years after my first restaurant Lobster encounter. On the day I staged at Per Se, I helped the fish station Chef de Partie with her mise-en-place and pre-service set up. On that given night, on the menu, they served one of the Thomas Keller originals, "Mac and Cheese", which is rather orzo pasta enriched with marscapone and served with a butter poached lobster tail. The visual though, dragged me right back to those first awkward moments sitting in an expensive restaurant in my Sunday best.

The cover of the New Yorker that ran a few years later, and ironically, came on my birthday.

Thomas Kellers "Macaroni and Cheese"

In the summer of 2000, I took my first employment at a summer camp in Western New York, near the Tug Hill Plateau. It was my first time really living away from home, first time keeping a responsible schedule, first time working, and first time making (though very little) money. It was a fun summer, and though I was only 15, I think there were some good lessons to be taken from being a grunt. 14 hour days beginning at 8 a.m., 6 days a week, were all good preparations for professional kitchen life, but it was here that I met another early role model, Martin Geskalney. Martin was this cool dude from Montreal who ran the kitchen for part of the summer, and not only did he turn me onto (good) music, but he taught me how to season food properly and really take ownership in my work. He didn't take things too seriously, but he was responsible and at an age and place where one would normally look towards older brothers, I had a few people to look up to.

I guess what Im getting at, is that my time here has made me more sentimental. We watched a video the other day in the kitchen that was shown at Madrid Fusion. It showed the evolution of our salsify dish with fish eggs and marine herbs. The funny thing was, the video showed that the original inspiration for the texture and visualization was fallen trees in the woods.

This is a picture of fallen trees...

...and this is a picture of the Salsify dish here.

The lesson, maybe even a good definition of the evolution is this: the farther "forward" we go, the closer we get to where we started. Maybe evolution is the wrong term, maybe revolution is better. I think the more I see things that test the boundaries of my imagination or understanding, the more I take comfort in the things I know very well or am familiar with. It's good to know how far you've come, and equally important to know where you started.

Im trying to take more photos and put together another little movie. Hopefully in the coming days and weeks I can amass a little bit of worthy content.

Anywho. I am also headed back to Barcelona in April to meet some of my friends from back home and am open and interested to any suggestions people might have of other things to see and do there. Likewise, I am going to spend a bit under a week in Paris in May just before coming home and am curious if anyone has must see foodie recommendations there as well (Pierre Herme/Laduree macaroons, Poilane Bakery, the Dehillerin kitchen shop, and a meal at Le Chateaubriand are all on my interest list).

Cheers...(and congrats to the saints ;-))

Agur,

Greg

A Visit from Friends

So I had written a long, philosophical lead into this entry about the idea of perfection, a topic we got to talking about this week in the kitchen. But rather than try to stand on a soap box and preach my belief, I leave it to Thomas Keller to sum up my thoughts for me, because I think they tie into the overall theme of this post:

"When you acknowledge, as you must, that there is no such thing as perfect food, only the idea of it, then the real purpose of striving toward perfection becomes clear: to make people happy. That's what cooking is all about."

Okay, enough with the philosophical babble, here are some PICTURES! So two weeks ago my alma mater (The Culinary Institute of America in New York) sent their current class of business students to Spain for a Wine and Food seminar. I went on one a few years back to California and can say from experience it was as much about the former as the latter (read: alot of fun). Anywho, part of their itinerary included a stop over in San Sebastian, where I was actually able to meet up with the group and take some of them around to some of the cooler (in my opinion) spots in the city. Then to top it all off they came to Mugaritz on their last day, all 30 of them! It was very cool, and as having mentioned before, since we cannot take pictures here, its difficult to sometimes explain what happens here or what it's like, through THEIR photos I will try to give you an idea (without spoiling any of the secrets) of what goes on here.

When you sit at the table you are offered two possible welcoming cards...

The class was then able to see the main kitchen. First is Rafa Costa de Silva, the chef de cuisine (and yours truly in the background). Second is one wing of the pass where pastry works and beyond there you can see the Meat Station and Plancha (manned by the hilarious young swedish kid Mattias)...

As the guests return to their table their first few snacks come from the kitchen. First is the famous Kaolin potato, a small potato related to fingerlings which is cooked in an edible clay shell and served with alioli (garlicky mayonnaise to you Dad)...Next are small shrimp from the Cantabrian Sea which are quickly fried and meant to be eaten whole..

The third snack on this day is a consomme of tubers with miniature leeks...Unlike 'baby vegetables' these were a special breed unique to this region which are meticulously (!!!) cleaned and prepared. Technique can be elusive here.

Coming from my current station is one of the first "courses" of the meal. This is a special variety of cardoon which can be eaten raw. Those unfamiliar with cardoons, they are a delicious but painstaking vegetable to cook to make palatable and are usually unbearably bitter. These cardoons come from Pamplona, from the family farm of one of the chefs. They are served with Milk Skin and a sauce of Chufa Tubers. Three elements here, all so meticulous in preparation. The chufa tubers taste a bit like jerusalem artichokes but nuttier and distinct.

This is an imitation of carpaccio made with Watermelon. Through a process that takes 8 people 3 days to do, the watermelon mimics the textures and flavors of beef carpaccio. The herbs atop the carpaccio are Oxalis and are cut daily from vegetation surrounding the restaurant. Remember when you were a kid looking for four-leaf clovers? We have a team that does this every day.

The next course also comes off my station and is a fossilization of Salsify, a root vegetable which has a similar flavor complex of oysters. The dish itself plays on these elements for its flavor profile. It is served with (paintakingly, time-consumingly, meticulously) prepared Merluza (fish) Roe, Amaranth and a seaweed named Junko Marina. The salsify itself also undergoes a process of calcification which is far to complex to explain here, but highlights the idea that even 4 ingredients can be extremely challenging to bring together.

This course is now coming off my station as well, but was not at the time. This is a dumpling of brandade (cod and potatoes) draped with the gelatin from a Cod Kokotxa (the chin of the fish) and the traditional sauce of Pil pil made with the cod cooking liquid and 1000 flower honey.

This course also came off our station and is one of Mugaritz most famous dishes. It is gnocci made with a japanese starch called Kuzu and a water made from the native Idiazable cheese. If you can just imagine trying to make a water out of cheese (primarily, a fat) you can already understand how hard this dish is. It is served with Iberico Pig Broth (so tasty) and tiny plushes of contrasting herbs (all arranged with tweezers naturally).

This is the current incarnation of the Foie dish. We prepare it in the same process as Michel Bras. It is poached/cleaned in milk and salt for several hours, portioned and frozen. Then, from the freezer, it is DEEP FRIED for a quick plunge before being roasted to temperature and smoked. Here it is being served with a local squash and an herb called ruca. Each portion is gigantic and is trimmed to size to order. This. is. how. to. eat. foie.

This is lenguado, or more commonly known as Dover Sole. Here, it is prepared very uniquely. It is filleted whole, then the two fillets are glued together using Transglutaminase leaving a fillet about 3-4 centimeters thick and with crispy skin on both sides. It is served chicory, a bitter green related to endive (and coffee to a degree), which has been cooked in a gastrovac, a Willy Wonka like toy that can manipulate textures and flavors of things in ways never before imagined possible.

This was the final savory course here is a play on the Spanish theme of marrying the sea with the land (Surf and turf for you Dad). We take the tails from langoustines (a very expensive and delicate crustacean which tastes like a lobster, a shrimp and a crab crossbred, but better) and crispy pigs tails from Iberico pigs and serve them with more Iberico ham shavings and the cooking broth of the tails. Its a little tounge in cheek too, tails and tails. Bottom line, this is what I want to eat before I die.

To prepare for landing, the guests are presented with a small towel. With just a touch of hot water this happens.

Still playing on the cleanliness joke, your first dessert course is called Jabon, or soap. It is actually an oatmeal ice cream with a honey and lard cookie and honey bubbles. I could do a whole meal of just this course.

Then, if that wasn't enough, they drop this in front of you. This is a Torrija, or the Spanish response to "french toast". The torrija, well I wont spoil it for you, but I will say this, I personally have never seen one come back unfinished.

Then to complete their experience, the students got to explore the test kitchen!

This is the rotary evaporator that, in a process to the distillation of spirits, creates pure clean extractions of ingredients, often indistinguishable from water visually but extremely potent and flavorful.

Then Andoni showed them a dish he had been working based on the principles and beauty of the noble egg. This dish is 4 years in the making and was just unveiled in a video at a culinary conference in November.

These are the egg shells made from a fine sugar.

And that concludes the photos I borrowed from the students. It was one of the proudest days I have had cooking to be able to be on the other side of the kitchen for this experience. It was wonderful seeing Chef Joseba Encabo as well, as he has literally seen me grow into the cook and person I am (maybe shrink a little too ;-))

Without any question, things change here all of the time, and most of these dishes change constantly, thus asking the question...what will it be like when you finally come and eat here???

Chat Soon!

Greg

Going Dutch

Back from The Netherlands and getting ready to resume restaurant service. As you may or may not know, the restaurant closed for part of December and most of January for an annual break, and simultaneously, to allow for significant modifications and improvements to be made to the restaurant. It is no secret here that amongst the many ambitions of this restaurant is the coveted third Michelin star, awarded to only the most premier restaurants, the pinnacle of achievement (if thats how you take your coffee so-to-speak).

At last note I had passed a significant portion in Barcelona, the capital of Catalunya and one of the epicenters of Spanish gastronomy. Chasing an impassable invitation, I scuttled my way up to Holland to visit with my roommate from here at Mugaritz, Gilbert Kolff, where he lives with his girlfriend Nienke in Rotterdam (la chouffe, their adorable cat/my new best friends, also resides there).

La Chouffe - Like the beer.

Gilberts killer crib.

I looked at Rotterdam initially as an opportunity to go somewhere I probably would never otherwise. That sounded like it fit the curriculum of my time here perfectly. After landing in Einhoven, and driving northward only slightly, Gilbert said he could show me the stereotypical "Dutch" tourist experience. NO, not copious marijuana/paraphernalia and prostitution (though that, unfortunately, was pretty much what I had allocated the Netherlands for stereotypical idioms). A few quick turns and there we were, staring down a phallanx of giant windmills, several hundred years old, surrounded by frozen tributaries with blissful little kinders skating around [frozen used here in the same vain that warm might be used to describe the Utah Salt Flats).

And then it fucking clicked! I had no clue where I was or what this place was really about. The most I could say about Rotterdam was that we had Rotterdam back in New York, and I had gotten a question wrong about it back in 10th grade History with Mr. Loveday (Albany High alum will enjoy a laugh on memory lane with that one, possibly). But back to the epiphany, again here I was in a beautiful, culturally rich foreign land, absolutely oblivious to the wonders at my fingertips.

Next leg of the Dutch adventure: Ferry-Ride!

Bikes everywhere. Cool Apartments/Houses too!

After getting settled, Gilbert said that he and Nienke had a bike for me to explore with, as I would have some time to explore alone. A-W-E-S-O-M-E! Whats that old saying, When in Rome? I immediately found the city to be incomprehensibly welcoming. If my Spanish was about as reliable as a Fiat, my Dutch was about as useful as Polish submarine; screen doors included. But something happened, people we're not only accommodating to my situation, they were downright friendly about it, maybe even a bit curious as to why I would take any interest in their humble city. Rotterdam, as you may or may not know, is in it's relative infancy compared to most of it's well known surrounding cities. Back in the second world war that German guy with the funny mustache did a little demolition, literally leaving only two things standing, the post office and the church.

This store sells Toothbrushes and Tooth Brush accessories.

For floss, go elsewhere.

Someone opened my eponymous restaurant for me!

And they used a cat for the logo too!

So since then Rotterdam has been on the build, but the story is more interesting than that (or maybe just to me, in which case, if you care to, feel free to skip ahead a couple of paragraphs). Rotterdam for all intents and purposes can and should be a significant place of attention/attraction in Europe, and for a long time prior it was (HMMM, sounds like my hometown, no?) Seeing the potential in economic and cultural contributions, Rotterdam has attracted almost a cult following in the design world and become a haven for some creative geniuses. With a city that preaches a freedom almost as passionately as the public reciprocates, its no wonder that this is a safe-haven for the outliers. Art is everywhere, people are welcoming and happy, restaurants at all levels appear to have better than average success.

One of the greatest foodies is now published in Dutch!

So extrapolating on the epiphany; GILBERT! Gilbert is like a walking and talking tourism board for Rotterdam, absolutely enamored by where he comes from. What I found here, in this relatively small city was my dutch contemporary. A living, breathing, epitome of me, tall, funny, redheaded dude who loves his hometown and wants to open a restaurant, have a family and settle his life somewhere reasonable. Likes simplicity, belgian beer, hip-hop and jazz, and speaks for himself. Likes Saab's, old bikes, and having a kitchen full of gadgets/random ingredients. Gilbert also helped his old chef write a cookkbook while working at this restaurant, which serves articulate, contemporary, seasonal food (sound familiar here) (http://www.restaurantdeharmonie.nl/site/). A selfless, genuine friend who opened his door for me when I was light-years away from that which I called home.

Im forming a Copper-buyers Anonymous support group.

We meet every 2nd of the month...after paying our credit card bills.

Don't worry, I have a Le Creuset habit too!

Must for my future home kitchen: Bad ass butchers block.

Michel Bras knives collectively cost more than my last car.

But then again, I dont need a car.

Like a lays potato chip.

Half-way around the world, on a vacation I never realized I was going to have, in a city I never planned on visiting, in a country I would probably struggle to locate on a map I found something absolutely crucial to my existence: there are other people just like me. In fact, shockingly similar, down to even looking a little like me. Gilbert's been a remarkable friend to me here and a model for the characteristics, skills, and personality traits that I want to have some day. In alot of way's what I felt leaving Rotterdam was that I had found someone on the same, rarely taken path as me, but a few more miles down the road. I think Gilbert will be a good friend of mine long after this experience ends and we go our separate ways. At any rate, I found the best place in Rotterdam to get fresh Caneles and (really) strong coffee at any hour of the day or night.

Thanks for following.

In the year two thousand...

Bienvenidos Dos-mil-y-Diez!

Hello Everyone!

On Dec 31st I made the ye ole haul to Barcelona for New Years Eve. After the equivalent of a red-eye bus ride (never again!) and connection of metro-trips, a couple sets of bad directions, this tired panda finally made it to the hostel I had booked online. My only initial inclination to go to Barcelona, actually, was because my Australian buddy here at the restaurant was moving on in January (actually returning to Tetsuya, one of the best restaurants in Australia, to become their Chef de Cuisine). His girlfriend was coming in from Australia and his buddy from back home was coming down from The Fat Duck in England to celebrate and spend a few days in the city. Sounded like a good enough time, I was in too. After getting settled into my hostel, I also met four other american guys taking a short little jaunt through Europe. Bottom line, at any end, there would be things to do and people to do them with.

New Years Eve itself was pretty much its own cliche ordeal, we didn't even go to the heart of the city for "the moment" (sorry if you were clicking in looking for pictures of Molotov cocktails and overturned cars) but I did take a jaunt down shortly after just to see the celebration. Naturally it was a flood of alcohol, adrenaline and people, and after realizing that the only people as sober as me were the Moroccan drug peddlers/pickpockets and the riot Police, I decided it was probably more fun to turn in early and have the city to myself the next morning. Good choice I think.

I took alot of pictures. I walked so much. I walked so much that at one point I tried to figure out where I was going and realized I had wandered listlessly for over four hours nonstop (in the most literal sense of the word nonstop). I went to the Boqueria often enough that I started recognizing people and figuring out how to get back to the best stands.

Walking is good fun for me though, generally not for my companions however, so I generally go it alone. Im a natural wanderer, a decent one at that I think, so I like to break off and go it alone often. The whole time here, actually now that I think of it, is really just a big jaunt for me to get away from the structure and conformity that some times I had felt chained to.

Being here is going to make me poor, but that is okay I guess. Its kinda funny, the experiences that make us culturally rich tend to make us fiscally poor, but the characteristics of being chronically cheap are the ones that tend to lead to monetary wealth. Whatever.

I had two big meals in Barcelona (north of the 120euro range, to be a bit clearer): Alkimia and Comerc24. My roommate at Mugaritz, Gilbert from Rotterdam, worked at Comerc, which is the output of Carlos Abellan, the former chef at El Bulli. Likewise, Alkimia is a a temple in its own right and has a Michelin star to boot.

I don't have the Comerc photos quite yet (in fact I didn't have my camera, but my buddy Mikey did), but heres the Alkimia set.

1st- The never ending breadstick.

2nd- "Tradition" Pan con Tomate in a glass with Catalan Sausage (very yeasty/tasty)

3rd- "Vichyssoise" of Yerma (basically Jerusalem Artichoke)

4th- Escalivada with anchoas

5th- Foie Gras and Partridge Terrine, Cocoa, Calabaza Squash

6th- False Bone Marrow of Daikon Radish with Iberico Ragout, Bone Marrow and Roe

7th- "Mar i Montana" - Surf and Turf - Glazed Galician Oyster (HUGE) and Iberico Cheek

8th-Potato Foam with mi-cuit egg yolk, charred vegetables and daikon shoots

9th-Sea Cucumber with charred eggplant and smokey powders

10th-Cod with pickled cauliflower, green apple and yogurt

11th-Lamb shoulder with artichokes, onions and black olives (best dish)

12th-Mango Canneloni with juniper, passion fruit and honey ice cream

13th- Chocolate and raspberries, goats milk glace



Bonbons- Tomato, Dark Cocoa Olive Oil, Mandarin, Passionfruit White Chocolate

Me- Poor again...

Im in Rotterdam now, which is an awesome city. Its quite beautiful and clean, very simple design and everyone gets around on bike. Im taking lots of photos here, but honestly its quite cold, so maybe they'll be quite boring. I head back to Spain on tuesday, and then straight back to the restaurant to get ready for service. I will try to keep posting/taking pictures/finding funny things that I've never seen before.

Cheers,

Greg

Thanks for putting up with my brief absence here. I spent almost a week in Barcelona doing nothing but snacking, taking pictures, meeting people and walking (and more walking)...Ill post here in the next few days, as I am finally settled up in Rotterdam with my roommate from Mugaritz. I said it before, but Ill say it again, this experience gets more enriching with every passing hour...

next transmission: very soon....

greg

Xmas in Gizpucoa

So Christmas is here, and I’ve made a quick movie with some of the pictures Ive taken over the first few weeks (and, eek, months here). Life is pretty copasetic, but becoming increasingly more challenging as I am now working on the first course station. As you may have noticed or for that matter will continue to notice, I don’t have any photos from the kitchen of any of the prep, the service, or the food. This is prohibited. Actually, I kinda like that because you can’t totally live vicariously through ones documentation of this experience, you really need to come here and see it for yourself. Also, I am working on a guest blog for John Sconzo, the whom the food world more affectionately knows as Docsconz (docsconz.typepad.com).

After we closed for our final night of service, we spent the next day completely breaking down the kitchen so that it could be refitted and repaired during the closure. Things get painted, broken stuff fixed, yadda yadda yadda. It was a bittersweet experience because for several of the guys it was there last day there, and the culmination of the day was this graduation like group huddle where the departing received their letters of recommendation and well wishes from the team. There are no words to describe it because its such an unprecedented feeling to be connected so closely with people for such a short period of time and then separated. But life moves quickly here, and people too, so I digress.

It’s gotten cold, we wont divulge too much into that because frankly, it makes shiver just thinking about it. My Spanish is getting better, like a d-minus now, but nonetheless an improvement. The other day I was playfully poking fun with one of the sous chefs in production when I realized I was fully conversing in somewhat discernible Castellano. Maybe four months more will be enough time to figure this out.

I’ve lost a little bit of weight, and grown my beard back and earned myself (amongst a few others) one fun nickname: Chuck Norris. We’ve had a great time with the old Chuck Norris jokes too. For example, did you know that if you have five dollars, and Chuck Norris has five dollars, he has more money than you? Or that Chuck Norris was once bitten by a Rattlesnake while hiking, and after six hours of excruciating pain, the Rattlesnake died? It is a great new, never ending source of entertainment.

I have pretty much the next month off. I am going to stay here and do Xmas dinner with everyone here, and then possibly/probably go to Barcelona for New Years Eve.

After that, it’s up in the air. I have been beating around a bunch of ideas, but the most viable and crazy right now that I am actually considering is getting a general train pass for Spain and France, getting on a train with no specified destination and just traveling about. I have some friends from here scattered about the country, but honestly I will probably just go somewhere and try to find cheap pensions to stay in, and move about. It’s not a natural inclination for me, to travel in such an arbitrary style but it could be a lot of fun, so who knows, maybe Ill make a go of it.

Anywho, 2010 will only bring greater challenges, and Im grateful for this. So, when you’re watching the ole ball drop back in New York, just remember that Im six hours a head of you, and therefore, hopefully asleep…

Cheers, Merry Christmas/Happy Hannukah/Wonderful Festivus…

The Importance of Staff Meal

I know what your thinking, you've read the title and now here comes another Keller-worshiping monologue in which the subject pits himself as protagonist against the unyielding pressures of cooking for his fellow kitchen mates. For the past two weeks, I have contemplated such a post, highlighting some of the rollercoaster ride that is procuring foodstuffs and executing meals for 60+ people twice a day as a staff of two.

Staff meal here, though, is really important. We work 6 days a week and we don't get paid, so really the only sustenance you get is from the 2 staff meals provided each day. Its a worry some job to cook for all of these guys too, because they are Michelin starred cooks (number 4 restaurant in the world, not to mention) seething with energy and more than willing to let you know what they think of the stuff. We were all over the dart board with our offerings, some bulls-eyes (burgers and cannelloni's), some in range and some, well you know. But thats the challenge and in part the reward, you don't really order stuff for your station and your susceptible to the errs in ordering or over ordering by your superiors. Sometimes its awesome some of the "trim" you get to work with, I mean one day we made an alubia, or pork and bean stew, almost exclusively with iberico pig and cochinillo (suckling pig) parts from the freezer! Sometimes though, you have to try to figure out what to do with piles of greens to bitter for the "real" customers, things too ripe for "paying" human consumption, et cetera, you get my drift. Sometimes you just want to refuse the unsolicited generosity of a chef de partie who has another 10 or so pounds of random unidentifiable cod pieces, but you cant and you figure it out.

Blah, blah, blah, you almost got suckered into another one of those awesome self-marketing stories of heroism and accomplishment, but on our last day on staff meal something wonderful happened. I will preface this by saying I am absolutely in no way shape or form responsible for what happened, it was all the work of our Chef de Partie Ramon and Diego, the other guy on staff meal. He had made a tasty panna-cotte with an orange blossom infused milk/cream we inherited, and we chilled it for the next day. The thing is the dairy here is a bit different and more finicky than what we are used to back in America (Diego is Guatemalan). Also, this cream was frozen before we got it, for some reason, and as such in our final product, some of the fat had separated to the top of the pastry leaving an unappealing waxy/fatty crust.

So here we are, trying to figure out what to do with these panna cottes, knowing full well that serving them also volunteers us to an altar of criticism. After discussion it was decided that we would put a thin brulee of sugar on the top of them and serve em up. After we were putting up our last dishes for the staff, Ramon and Diego blasted the surfaces of the pastries, and we went down to eat with our shift. Lone behold, who came downstairs to join us as he had a few times over the two weeks, Andoni! He picked at his food for a little and then grabbed a bowl of the pastry, which led to my partner and I shooting each other the look of death and humiliation as we figured we were about to be bestowed a significant tongue lashing. Andoni's eyes bolted up at us and said "WHO MADE THIS!?!?" Diego obliged and explained what happened and how he'd separated the fat and bruleed the top. Andoni was, much to our surprise, elated with the discovery and sensation of the crispy sugar enriched with an ever so thin coat of fat.

Everyone was shocked. One of the other cooks at staff meal, who is currently working in the test kitchen, remarked that when Andoni reacts like that it is either really bad or really good...we were happy to be on the upside. S0 the creating goes on, and we went back to hustle and bustle knowing that in our two weeks cooking staff meal, we'd been closer to "the one" more than any time prior. It was cool to think that the number 4 chef in the world, the guy who gets a forward to his books written in great length by Michel Bras, was eating hamburgers and soup with us...thats what its all about...

hope to get back on here around xmas...can't believe its so close and Im so far away...

cheers,

greg kc