The Alchemist

Baking and pastry, I’ve often noticed, gets treated with a mixture of awe, admiration, and contempt among kitchen workers. On one hand, we’re often the guys that have easy-to-grab snacks on hand. “Hey Matt… um… any of these cookies happen to ‘fall on the floor?’” Our weighing of everything, our techniques, and (frequently) the vision of us patiently stirring pots of bubbling stuff that smells amazing makes what bakers do look like alchemy or wizardry. Occasionally, there are some cooks with chips on their shoulder that insist we’re “useless” and “can’t do anything without a recipe book.” (Yes, I actually had someone say that to me once. To my knowledge they still have all their teeth, God knows how.)

Somewhere along the way, though, I’ve managed to cultivate an image out here that compels this question from my coworkers: “Dude, how old ARE you?”

My mannerisms aside, I don’t think I look a day over “ageless.”
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Processing the Parsley- Why The Slow Stupid Way Works

This happens at least once in every kitchen.

A new cook is told to chop leafy herbs, and they are given a cutting board and told to hone their knife. A bunch or two in, the new cook inevitably looks up at the Robo-coup (a.k.a. “Robocop” or “Robo”, a brand name for a heavy-duty professional food processor. Our version of a Cuisinart.)
“This is friggin’ stupid. It would be way faster and more efficient to use the Robo-coup.”

An older cook looks up from their own prep and shakes their head. “Nope, it’s gotta be like this. The food processor doesn’t do it right.”
To the new cook, this sounds like “peeling potatoes builds character” hazing bullshit. As soon as the chef isn’t looking, the new cook has taken down the heavy cube of a machine, affixed the bowl and blade, and is shoving bunches of parsley in while the older cook rolls his eyes, watches, and waits.

The machine IS powerful, and noisy. Chunks of green juice and herb splatter against the clear lid like alien guts while the very-pleased-with-themselves cook watches and uses his “expert opinion” to decide how long is enough. Soon, he tips out the bowl into a container and is about to load another couple of bunches in when the chef’s voice rings out. “The hell do you think you are doing?!”

Young Iron Chef freezes, they don’t understand. The parsley is getting chopped, right? They’re doing their job. They’re doing it faster than everyone else, right? That’s the point, isn’t it? Why are they in trouble? “Chopping the parsley like you said, Chef!”

Photo by Thirdman on Pexels.com
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Food and Drink- Keeping it Local

Growing up in my wine enthusiast father’s house, I started learning about alcohol at 13. My sisters and I were passed small sips of whatever he and my mother were drinking, gently quizzed on what we tasted and smelled as far as our early-teen brains could describe ”flavor notes,” and then given an instructive lecture on that particular wine, where it came from, what caused those flavors, and the idea of terroir– that you could taste the unique chemistry of the soil and climate in the products of it’s earth.

I can tell you now that, despite my father’s instruction, I never really fell in love with wine. Unless it’s especially unusual, I will always enjoy wine as “interesting fun grape juice.” Unless it’s terrible, then I just don’t finish.

My dad was not speaking into a void though. What he said DID land and plant a seed, although it grew to be more inclined to beer and liquor, which I can say I then cultivated with the hearty fertilizers of sociology, history, anthropology, and being really damned curious when faced with the unfamiliar-but-promising.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
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The Secret Ingredients of Good Baking

Coming into a new restaurant to take control of an existing menu and program is an interesting experience if just because of the line that gets walked between tradition and innovation. Telling a new cook who keeps talking about “the way it was done at their old place” that it doesn’t matter- they’re here now, we do it this way, you will too- gets a twist when you step in at a level of creative control. “Make it new…” but not too new.

The house bread at my winery cannot be radically changed- too many people love it, it’s too embedded in the menu. Well and good. The cookie recipes, however, and especially a Canele recipe that only one person could ever make work well? Those required the addition of creativity and craft to make them work better and BE better.

No fancy new ingredients. No strange chemical or additions. The best “secret ingredients” are techniques- and the very best ones aren’t even that.

A baker in a black apron and with a black background dusts flour over a lump of dough on a small baking bench.
Photo by Klaus Nielsen
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Invention In The Kitchen- Mad Science At Work

The idea came simply and quietly at the usual time- when I was working on something entirely different.

One of our customers asked if we made any Handpies that could meet their lower-than-usual price point. They loved our pies- as did their customers- but the rising costs of ingredients meant that for a lot of our flavors they would have to charge more than they thought their customers would tolerate.

So rather than cut off the pies completely, they asked my owner- who in turn asked me- if we had any recipes that would 1. Be delicious, 2. Be popular with customers at a cafe, and 3. Wouldn’t use too much of our more expensive ingredients so they could be sold at the desired low point.

Necessity may be the mother of invention, but economics and desperation make fantastic midwives. As I went through our recipe books, checked with suppliers to see what ingredients cost what, and started spitballing ideas on our whiteboard (“Pineapple is cheap right now… a pineapple pie? What’s more expensive right now, berries or nuts? What can one person make quickly to reduce labor?”) three ideas from my past and present slammed into each other.

The father of invention had shown up, and it’s name was “Why Not?”

A pile of crispy brown nut filled pastries on a plate held aloft in a kitchen.
Behold- The Bachl-Amann!
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