PREGO

Prego

The Italians say this word like it means everything. Are you ready? Hello. Goodbye. Here. Of course. And I want to say it with them. I am all of the above: here, leaving, arriving, and would love to try everything. 

We landed in Florence at 9 am, eyes stinging from the flights and stomach (at least mine) for something I could call "food". And if there is anything I remember about the last time I was here in Europe was that Italy knew how to do food. I am not taking credit for making a joke about how Italians wouldn't be caught dead doing a low carb diet. But I will take credit for pointing out the reason why Italian women are sexy is because while they wear heels they eat with a fury I can only assume must translate to the bedroom somehow. Women who eat are sexy. They have a confidence in themselves that no woman who orders salad with dressing on the side ever will. 

After a few hours of wandering to get used to the city we passed by a small trattoria with outdoor seating and not one discernible word of spoken English. I immediately wanted to eat there. Word to all travelers: traveling is unfamiliar, it is harsh, and at times inhospitable, but the most important thing to remember is that is the point. Learn to get out of your comfort zone, try a few phrases of the language, and don't eat at places with an "English" menu. The food won't be as good or as authentic. Have some guts, point your finger at something you don't know and maybe you'll be pleasantly surprised.

After ordering a Campari and soda and  "agua con gas" I opted for prosciutto and meand a vegetable and bread soup. When my food arrived in front of me I wanted to kiss the waiter, I refrained and began to eat only what I can describe as some of the best food man can make. Prosciutto is a favorite of mine: fat, salt, and flavor, that's really all it is. Good prosciutto can take a while to make. GREAT prosciutto can take what seems like ages. In this day and age of instant gratification I always find the things I am most drawn to, the things I appreciate most, are those things that take time. We as people have gotten used to getting things faster these days, wether it be information, news, fashion, or food. Just because something is faster does not make it better. Walking around the uffizi gallery today I had to ask myself "why doesn't anyone make monumental sculptures like this anymore?" the answer is that people just don't have the time. Or they tell themselves they don't, either way. I couldn't imagine someone in this day and age taking 12-26 years to finish a marble sculpture. Do you know how many seasons of greys anatomy they would have to catch up on?? 

When I take a bite of prosciutto wrapped around ripe cantaloupe everything stops for a second. I blink a few seconds longer than normal and am transformed to the first time I ever had this particular combination of food. 2006 was the first time I came to Europe. My mother and I travelled for weeks on the train after graduating college in an attempt to see the art work I had been studying in art school for the past 4 years. I assumed I would just end up seeing some great art, I never really expected that my ideas on food would change as well. 

When I tell people I grew up in Connecticut I often get an eyebrow raise or further inquiry as to what part of the state I lived in. This is often followed with a funny quip of "no, not THAT part of Connecticut." We didn't have a pool, a summer home, a tennis court or a 3 car garage. Hell we didn't even have running water. What we did have was a lot of animals, a lot of stacked wood and three Yugos that didn't run. (If you don't know what a Yugo is I wouldn't be surprised, From what used to be called Yugoslavia, it's a car they stopped making in the 80's or something that was about the size of a lare dog)

With the fact I didn't have a heated pool, a butler, or even basic necessities of a home, I also didn't get a lot of gourmet food. There was no such thing as a local produce market in the town I grew up in. No place to buy fresh homemade pasta, no truffle oil, no saffron, no wine store. The only chef people in my town knew about was boyardee.

When I landed in Europe in 2006 I knew I would forever be changed. I just didn't expect food to have such a big role. One day after visiting the palace of Versailles I realized my blood sugar was dipping into the very dangerous "hangry" zone. I needed food and fast. I happened on the first place off a side street and stepped into a small cafe serving food and wine. I pointed, and trusted someone would bring me something non-poisonous and tasty. What they brought me was a small fort made of perfectly shaped pieces of melon with tissue paper thin slices of Proscuitto circling the structure. Inside was arugula dressed in olive oil, salt and pepper. I wasn't quite sure how to start eating, but I grabbed a bit of everything to create one bite and started to eat.

It was one of the first times I understood that flavor can be more than sustenance and nostalgia. Up until then when I was hungry, I ate. When I ate a particular meal I was reminded of a place, or a family member. This was different. I suddenly became aware there was a single flower in the vase next to me, there was a smudge on the handwritten chalkboard outside, there were more bubbles in the water glass in front of me, then the one my mother had. I suddenly paid closer attention then I ever had during a meal. Things seemed more beautiful, and in many ways it was because they were. 

How to complete a successful stage

[Staging is the activity when a cook or chef works briefly, for free, in another chef's kitchen to learn and be exposed to new techniques and cuisines. The term originates from the French word stagiaire meaning trainee, apprentice or intern.] -Wikipedia

My stage is quickly coming to a close. I arrived in Paris two weeks ago and have had the tremendous opportunity to be warmly welcomed into the kitchen of Verjus. So far I have been having a great time and keep getting invited back so all appears to have been a success. Truth be told, I have done a lot of stages in my day as well as administered numerous more. If I were to fail at a stage I think it would be more perplexing and worrisome than anything else. But there is something comforting about going back to the basics. Its proven to be an excellent opportunity to reawaken a lot of the forgotten fine dining techniques and nuances that have been lost over the years. A shout out to my past, if you will. A re-ignition of the internal flame.

Staging is not difficult provided you have a certain list of qualities, can comprehend basic etiquette and can follow a few simple but cardinal rules. I know many people get worked up about having to do a stage and often times will completely botch their only chance at getting the job they really want merely because they are so nervous that they end up fucking it up for themselves. Typically this means over thinking simple tasks or getting so nervous that they don't stop talking and inevitably say something unbelievably dumb.

But they are an essential part of a kitchen's well being. It gives both parties the ability to properly assess the other before making a commitment that they very likely would end up regretting later down the road. The union between chef and kitchen is a matrimony. You get the right match and there is this sense of harmony. The whole team appreciates having that person on the team and that person really enjoys showing up to work and in turn does a great job. The wrong fit and it's like having a tumor eating away at everything the restaurant is trying to build. So one day (sometimes up to three months) is a small price to pay to ensure everyone's future happiness.

And yet sadly there isn't really a comprehensive a guide or template to help people become more prepared for their stage and be able to know, in black and white, what you should and should not do. So I thought I would take the liberty and put one together. This list is being written by someone who is currently in the process of a stage as well as an executive chef that has developed stage protocol for other companies, written exams, administered stages and partaken in countless stages throughout my career. I've been on both sides. Many times. I know the anxiety experienced by the stage and the mentality of the chef and what (we) are looking for. I'm not claiming that I will speak for every chef in every kitchen but I would safely say this guide is applicable to the overwhelming majority of restaurants.

The first rule, above all other rules, that you should never violate - in any circumstance - is to be humble! In other words, shut your mouth. Look at the dynamics of the situation for a second: the chef is looking for someone who will fit their culture. Someone who will help the team excel and grow. Someone who will help create (or maintain) an environment that is enjoyable for the entire team and make people want to show back up to work happy and in good spirits.

Is the chef evaluating your skill set? Of course. But a limited skill set will not necessarily get you eliminated from the applicant pool...but telling the chef your thoughts (on just about anything) without being asked, probably will. Humility is so critical, it's unbelievable. But it's easiest to come across as a humble person if you can just not speak. And it's hard to keep your mouth shut entirely because naturaly the other guys want to talk to you so they can get a feel for your personality and let's face it - you are dying to fit in.

There's no sense denying that last fact, it's human nature. You are the lowest of the low on the totem pole and that is an uncomfortable place to be, so the quickest way to get out of the awkward seat is to talk your way out. Maybe if you tell some stories and try to show these guys that you have been to some great places and know some cool people and have the most expensive knife set they will open up to you and joke with you and allow you in the club. Then maybe this awkward, "new kid on the block" feeling will go away. Becuase once this feeling goes away and you fit in better you will be awesome and relaxed and the chef will hire you immediately. Nope. Bad idea.

Want to know the best way to fit in? Keep your mouth shut, your head down and your hands moving. The only thing the other guys need to see is your skill. That will speak much more loudly than anything you can say. And I'm not necessarily talking about how well you juilliene the scallions or how perfectly you pick the herbs...but how well you do every task on your prep list - how fast, how clean and how quietly. And then - as important as anything else you have done all day is - how well do you clean at the end of the night? This alone speaks volumes about who someone is in the kitchen. Tired? So is everyone else. Don't really want to scrub out the low-boy? Neither does anybody else. Want to take short cuts while cleaning so you can get out earlier? I wouldnt recommend it. But if you clean fast and diligently like your life depends on it, you will see magic happen and earn major respect.

Obviously, the other portion of this stage is for you to check out the restaurant, the team and the chef as well. Each step in your career is an important step so you need to use this opportunity to honestly evaluate this environment as a possible home for you.

Here are the rules, listed from beginning to end, for you to read, print, memorize, post, tattoo...whatever you feel you need to do. Good luck.

Rules:
1. Do a dry run the day before so you know exactly how to get to the restaurant and how long it takes you to get there. Calling the chef when you are supposed to be there and saying that you are going to be late is the same as calling the chef and telling him to go fuck himself. Probably not a good move.
2. Show up early and if you can familiarize yourself with the kitchen in your free time to eliminate wasted steps, that's always helpful.
3. Bring a hat, a pen, a sharpie, a pad of paper, your knife kit (keep it small), chef coat, kitchen shoes (black, slip resistant and closed toed) and a thermometer.
2. Shut your mouth. Refer to above.
3. Be friendly and polite. I wouldn't open your mouth unnecessarily but if you happen to have to answer a question or get caught up in a conversation, keep the answers short but friendly and super polite. And kitchens LOVE racy jokes. It's best to not get caught up in these...at all. No matter how tempting. We're all devious, demented, sick, twisted individuals. You will have plenty of time to play with the big kids when the time is right.
4. If you open your mouth, do so strictly to ask a question.
5. When addressing the chef, there are three correct answers, "Yes chef.", "No chef" and "I don't know, chef". (If you haven't seen "Dinner Rush" you should probably see that movie before you stage as well.)
6. Know how to work a prep list (oven and stove items first, knife work second while the hot items cook. AKA, multi-tasking)
7. Make sure you understand every single task on your prep list before starting a project and consequently fuck it up. There are no stupid questions, just stupid mistakes. If your prep list has "Wedge Lemons" on it, do not just go grab some lemons and start hacking away like some cocky newly grad who thinks "I just had to wedge some lemons in school last week, I got this!" because chances are pretty good that you don't. First, how many lemons do you have to cut? Wedge them into four, six or eight? Trim out the center core or leave as is? What about the ends? Where should the wedges go when they're done? So even though you (and every other wanker in the world) has wedged lemons, you will most likely fuck it up if you don't ask for specifics. Now read the next item of your prep list, rinse, lather and repeat.
8. Work clean. This means table wiped, safe food handling practices, towels clean, gloves when touching raw meats, etc.
9. Work organized. Towels folded and clean, work from one container into another. Do not let shit clutter your station and pile on top of your cutting board. If you look like a mess the chef will think you're a mess. And chances are, he's right.
10. Work fast. Do not take all day on the lemons. Think the task through before your start (containers, knives, gloves, trash, towel, etc.), set up for the task and then crank it out.
11. Keep your knives sharp. Dull knives are pointless. Disregard the pun please.
12. Taste, taste, taste. Taste everything. Taste your food and taste everyone else's too. Do not taste one thing too much though. That's called snacking. AKA, eating someone else's mise. Not cool.
13. Do not hit on the staff. Yes, the waitstaff are hot - they're supposed to be. But fishing off the company pier is always a terrible idea. Take my word for it.
14. Do not accept any pay at the end of day one. You did not bring any value to the operation yet. Even if they offer a portion of the tips, ask them to split it amongst the rest of the team. You were probably more of a pain in the ass than a help. Understand that it is more work for them to have you and train you on day one than you return in quality work.
15. Do not lean or put your hands in your pockets!!! Ever! That just says "lazy". If you see everyone else doing something - anything - regardless of how minimal, you should be doing something too. You will probably feel out of place at this point because everyone else has a natural flow to their night and are accomplishing tasks left and right and you're left there holding the bag. That's ok, this is where rule #4 comes in. If you're not sure what to do, ask.
16. When you are done you're prep list, help someone else and/or ask the chef.
17. Never correct someone else's work. Even if the chef just barely showed you how to wedge the lemons and then you see someone else wedging lemons differently...shut up. Pretend like you didn't notice. That's not your job to notice what the real employees are doing - that's the chefs job.
18. Do not talk about your culinary school experience. If you read that sentence and thought in your head, "Why the hell not?!?! I learned a ton at school!" then I am in fact speaking directly to you. One, it makes you sound like you're twelve - and two, a lot of chefs (culinary grads and U.H.K. grads [Univeristy of Hard Knocks]) have a bad taste in their mouth about culinary students and culinary schools right now. That's mostly because the majority of you suck (reference rule #12). Now you're going to say, "But Eric, I graduated top of my class!" - congratulations, you're the tallest of the seven dwarfs. Yippee. You still suck, they just happened to suck worse.
19. If at some point throughout the night you realize that you actually don't suck and they suck way worse than you...then leave. And this might happen. It's entirely possible that through this process you realize that this is not the right for for you and that there's no way you could bring yourself to work in this shit hole. That's ok. Happens all the time. Just politely let the chef know that you greatly appreciate the opportunity but you don't feel that this is the right step for your career. Then excuse yourself and be super thankful they asked you to do a stage.
20. But if you stay, be the last to leave. Yup, FILO. First in, last out. Shows work ethic. And please do not bring up the "free labor" argument. You aren't worth jack shit until you can add value to the operation and that doesn't happen until you have had at least one solid day of training. Thus, the stage. Enjoy it and be grateful for the amazing opportunity.

the starting line

I leave tomorrow.  Technically later today, and of course I can't sleep. I never can before a big trip, and as far as big trips, this ranks up there. I have all the essentials: wine key, and wedding dress, and the plan will be wear one and use the other. I know I am approaching this as a get away, and as a start of a new life. 

My last day at work was yesterday, and all those things you ever want to say table side, boy did it feel good to say. 
myself: "Hi how are you today?"
guest: "We're ready to order"
myself: "ok, we're going to play a call and response, I'm going to say how are you today, and you're going to say I am fine-then I say wonderful, offer beverages and when I have greeted the rest of my tables I will return to place your order"

 That was it, just that one day of brunch and  I left out the same back door I've been coming into for the past 2 and a half years. And that last shift was a doozy.

NO SMILE, NO TIP :)

Someone actually left that on a check yesterday. Keep in mind , I was actually not the person who spent the majority with the table, I had a 13 top outside and an 11 top in the dining room so I was a bit occupied. ON TOP of that I spent most of my time answering crazy questions they had. "What kind of salmon do you have, is it wild or farm raised, how long do you smoke it for, what kind of salt do you use?"

Listen to me. Brunch is hard. Brunch is hard on anyone who works it, and anyone who wants it, if you work it there are a few known facts. 1. You never have enough coffee. ever ever ever. You brew regular in the decaf but you still don't have enough. 2. You run out of everything: no, I'm sorry we don't have any more biscuits/jam/sausage/burgers/homefries. and 3. People who order brunch are either too hung over from the night before or are really hungry or are too lazy to cook eggs themselves. So take all those hungry, hungover lazy people and you put them all in the same room, and you ask them 3 times if they want anything with their coffee like cream or sugar and after the third time they've grumbled "no" at you, you walk away. Then then flag you down to say "uh, can I have cream?". That's brunch.

And it doesn't end! You bring coffee and make decaf cappuccinos (oh, you want air that doesn't taste like anything or do anything for you? coming right up.) and then you run around looking for more maple syrup and then someone asks for xtra hollandaise, and then someone asks for less hollandaise, and then someone says "instead of ham can I have canadian bacon?" and you say "of course", through gritted teeth even though you know you're going to bring them the ham it already has and they won't know the difference, and then you look down at your watch and it's 11 am. You feel like you've been there all day but truth is an hour and a half has gone by and you're already exhausted.

So, I will take my wine key to Italy tomorrow and as each bottle opens I will remember not only to be grateful for things, like the most amazing man I am about to marry, and the mother I will be vacationing with in Florence, but that as of yesterday, I don't have to work brunch.