Life After The Line Part II- A Different Position

When I’m not exhausted beyond reason, furious at pompous bureaucracy and the odious input of “higher ups” that outsource their problem-solving to ChatGPT, I do still in fact love to bake.

I truly do still love making things for people. I love giving my work to others, watching them eat it, knowing their day got better for a moment because of my work, and maybe even teaching others how to do that magic for themselves.

As much as previous cafe jobs put me through, it was always the environment and the management, never the work. Even when I was dragging my ass out of the French bakery at 10am after starting at 2, hoping to find a place that wouldn’t question giving me a post-shift beer over brunch, I loved looking in the display case as I left. I saw everything I’d made that morning, people and kids pressing their noses against the glass at crusty kouign-aman and caneles, and think to myself “I helped make their day start better. It was all worth it.

It took and takes a LOT for me to lose sight of that fact. Fine dining has always been a pleasure of mine and that kind of work- being a pastry chef- is the best way to gain access to good ingredients, new technology, and have excuses to experiment. Your local bakery cafe doesn’t mess around with agar agar (unless they are vegan.) They don’t need a PacoJet, and getting obscure or rare materials is not always a priority- or even in the budget. They’re making delicious breakfast pastries, cookies, and pies- not plated desserts for $15 a hit.

When you set off on a culinary career, it’s good to know what you love about it and find the path that support it. It’s never too late to learn more about yourself and change.

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Gaps in the Armor

The right food at the right time can give you nearly everything you need. In my case, I was back at the Beer Bus and had just pounded a tuna burrito from Saint Burrito. The balled-up tinfoil and a stained napkin were being held down by what remains of my beer.

I had just come out of the gym and needed a late lunch/ refuel. Protein, carbs, a bit less fat than your normal burrito, and 5% alcohol to help soothe the muscles. Beer doesn’t get enough credit as a post-workout beverage if it’s consumed within reason. John L. Sullivan, the legendary “knock out king” of 19th Century Boston, had an equally legendary drinking problem. All his work and fighting couldn’t keep his daily Kidney Pickling from turning his muscles slack and flabby. “Moderation in everything, including Moderation,” says verbal knock-out king Oscar Wilde.

A suit of armor on a black-gray vignette background
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Don’t Overthink It- Just Look Closer

It was the third time I’d made those damn tarts in a week. They were a fairly simple idea from my boss.

“Matt, what do think of offering seasonal upgrades on our holiday banquet menu? Like they can order your Chocolate Passionfruit Tartlets, but for a little more they could spring for some other more seasonal flavor?”

“Not a bad idea… what did you have in mind?”

“Hmm… how about apple? Just apple with some whipped cream and pecans? We can tweak the idea later- just spitballing right now.”

“Sure, I guess that’d work. I’ll figure out batching and stuff and we can discuss it.”

The next time it’s discussed looks like this:
“Hey Matt, we’re going to need about 20 dozen Roasted Apple Tarts for next week.”

“Um… since when? I don’t have a recipe or batching for that yet. Wait- did we already sell this?!”

“Just make a good apple filling and put it in some shells. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

In my world, “figuring out the rest later” means “throw together a basic recipe and, if you don’t have perfect math for everything yet, do the recipe as many times as it takes and keep notes.” It practically wipes out the point of production baking- doing one big batch only a few times, storing it, and pulling as needed- because I have only guesswork to go on. “This should make about this many, and we should be able to freeze leftovers for later…”

That’s a lot of “shoulds” and “abouts,” and if they are wrong suddenly I am remaking the product under more pressure. More pressure means more hurry, and more hurry means more mistakes. Haste makes waste.

The pastry chef in me sees this for what it is- a waste of time and a waste of resources spent on what comes down to the impatience and lack of communication that, alas, comes from working under others. That part of me also eventually says, “Fine. You want basic, you get basic.

The good news is that basic by no means means “bad” if you know what you’re doing.

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The Real Role of Ritual

I spent a solid chunk of my life trying to figure out how I was going to save the world. Then I realized I couldn’t, so I decided to just do what I could.

I sometimes romanticize this in my mind as “I wanted to save the world, but I was only one person so I became an EMT so I could save people and make them happy. As an EMT I learned I couldn’t save everyone and even then I couldn’t make them happy. Then I decided to just give people more reasons to be happy and become a baker. That’s when it started working.”

That’s adorable and might make a good eulogy for me someday, but the truth is that’s what we all do. Everyone at some point fights with themselves over where they fit in the world, what they want to be, and what they want to leave behind. Some figure out, some resent the question and never do, and others just decide to let the world figure itself out and they’ll go where they fit.

I’m lucky as hell I found my way to baking and culinary. It’s not just a trade and career for me, it’s a calling and spiritual expression. I’d love if it paid more- who wouldn’t?- but it’s work that activates Heart, Mind, Body, and Soul for me and I can make something like a living doing it. That’s not nothing.

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Kindness by the Cup

Ever since I was old enough to actually appreciate hot “adult” beverages, I preferred tea to coffee. In fact, there’s only one coffee drink I really like. It’s a cappuccino with cinnamon and honey that I was introduced to at my favorite West Side writing cafe as a cafe con miel, but I’ve since understood is easier to explain to baristas just as “cappuccino with honey and cinnamon at the bottom.”

I’m drinking that coffee drink right now at Taborspace- the cozy social hall of a church on Mount Tabor where the base of the bell tower was rented out to a series of cafe and fast-eats ventures. Most recently, and popularly, it became the third satellite location of the cafe I worked at nearly a decade ago. I talked briefly with the new faces about the old faces (and recipes, and wall notes, and procedures most likely) still around the main kitchen that used to be my world. Then I took my scone and Only Coffee Drink I Actually Like into the sunny, raftered, cozy hall with Christian-themed stained glass windows that only adds to the vibes.

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