Have Blade Will Travel: The adventures of a traveling chef (23 page)

As for my work at the Clift, I was bored-out-of-my-gourd after six months, so when an opportunity to run my own kitchen came up, I was outa there.

“I never liked New Yorkers anyway,” harangued Klampfer the Austrian.  I really didn’t care what he thought of me, though he made me stay right until the last day of my two week’s notice.  In retrospect I should have just taken off; what was he going to do – report me to the culinary police?  But I didn’t.  I stayed right to the end.

Maxine received a call from the Berkeley Women’s City Club, who were in need of a chef to prepare a banquet dinner.  I met with the directors, worked out the details, and ordered the necessary provisions for the coming feast.

Originally established in 1927 to promote social, civic, and cultural progress, the building was designed by notable California architect Julia Morgan.  Today it is known as The Berkeley City Club, is no longer restricted to women, and is available to the public at large for weddings and other occasions.  It was obvious that the kitchen was as old as the building, but it was large and I had no concerns about my ability to produce an exceptional meal for the 75 guests scheduled to attend this luncheon. 

My designated dessert was Mousse au chocolat, and I walked back into a separate pastry area to prepare the mousse while Top Round Beef Roasts sizzled in the ovens.  At one point, as I was piping out the mousse into champagne saucers, I looked up a saw that one of the stoves at the far end of the kitchen range was engulfed in flames.  I screeched “Jesus Christ!!!”, then ran down to address the crisis.  I will never forget the two young food servers who stood there motionless, staring at the blaze.  I screamed, “Where’s the gas cut-off!?!?”  After pointing to a bolt on the floor, I ordered them to find me a wrench, and while I waited for the wrench, I muffled the fire with the fire extinguisher – just enough to keep the flames down, but not enough to put it out.  Once the kids returned with the wrench, I turned the valve 180-degrees, then extinguished the fire completely.  I can’t remember a more horrifying moment, having realized that I could have established a reputation that would last for the rest of my days – as the chef who burned down Julia Morgan’s 1927 architectural masterpiece in Berkeley, California. 

The good news was that I was close enough to service at that point, that I could use the residual heat from the ovens and steam table to heat the asparagus and the gravy for the roast beef, and keep the roasts and potatoes warm.  My chocolate mousse was all set to go – so I was going to be able to complete the task at hand.

When the meal was done, I picked up a check that was awaiting me, and I departed from that club as fast as I could sprint off into the afternoon sun. 

My next stop was a visit to Manfred Kruk, the six-foot-four-inch-tall German Executive Chef at the Bank of America building – which had been the tallest skyscraper in San Francisco until the impish architectural team who designed the Trans-America building, erected two blocks away, designed a spire on top of their building that gave them bragging rights for the tallest building in Earthquake City.  Architectural egos aside, it seemed to me that the civic leaders of San Francisco were completely nuts to allow skyscrapers in the most earthquake-prone city in North America, and I believe they will someday pay for their avarice. 

The B-of-A building is supposed to be built on some kind of enormous rollers and springs, which render it “earthquake-proof” – and for all those who believe that story, I have a fabulous bridge in Brooklyn I can sell you, and the price is really marked down!  Even if the buildings don’t come crashing down in the next
tremblement-de-terre
– which is as inevitable as night-follows-day – if all the glass windows in downtown San Francisco shatter from the next “big one,” it will leave a 4-foot-deep pile of glass shards down on the street.  Don’t think I want to be walking around downtown San Francisco when that happens.

Manfred interviewed me in his office for twenty minutes, then led me into the central kitchen to a cutting board upon which was a cook’s knife and a Spanish onion.  “Dize zuh onion, pleez,” he instructed.  I peeled the onion, cut it in half, and proceeded to turn it into a cup of small-diced onion.  When I had completed the task, Chef Kruk looked at me, and asked, “Okay, ven can you stahrt.”

The Great Electric Underground (GEU) was a Monday-to-Friday lunch restaurant located on the ground floor of the Bank of America Building in downtown San Francisco – one of four food service operations owned and operated by ARA, Inc. (today they are Aramark, Inc.).  There was a sandwich-and-salad-to-go shop on the ground floor near the GEU, named the PDQ; and on the 52
^nd
floor, the top floor, was The Banker’s Club during the day – a private club for well-funded financiers; which changed into the Carnelian Room at night – a high-end restaurant open to the public.  

ARA was the largest institutional food service operation in the world, second to the U. S. Army, feeding 10-million people per day around the world – in factories, hospitals, schools and sports stadiums.  But the Carnelian Room was part of their fine-dining division, known as Davres (pronounced “day-vreez”), named for Davre Davidson, the executive who had started it. 
At one point the Davres division had two dozen restaurants in all, located in major American cities, among them Atwater’s in Portland, OR; The 95
^th
at the top of the John Hancock Building in Chicago; Penn’s Wood Catering in Philadelphia; and of course the Carnelian Room and Banker’s Club at the top of the Bank of American building in San Francisco. 

I would depart by bicycle from my garden apartment in the Richmond District (a residential area of San Francisco) at 6:30 AM, and sprint down Bush Street, catching as many of the timed traffic lights as possible.  The 4.3-mile trip usually took me about twenty minutes.  I parked my bike in the basement parking lot, then went up to the locker room off the main kitchen to change into my chef clothes.

Kruk had brought me in to add some pizzazz to the daily offerings of the GEU, and that’s what I did.  I ran a three-week menu cycle, with a Plat du jour each day.  Veal Cannelloni was one of my most popular specials, and a way to utilize the premium Provimi-brand veal scraps that butcher David Wong ground up for me.  I prepared Parmesan-flavored crêpes – crêpes being the San Francisco version of Stuffed Manicotti, a dish unique to New York and the northeast.  It was a fabulous dish – fresh-ground veal, herbs, garlic, spinach, rolled up in homemade, Parmesan cheese-flavored crêpes, and baked in a Neapolitan (meatless) tomato sauce.  The crêpes soaked up the juices from the veal stuffing and the tomato sauce, and I served two cannelloni topped with a slice of melted Monterey Jack cheese.  It was a fabulous lunch indeed.

 
― ● ―

Cannelloni, Great Electric Underground Style

For the crêpes

1½ cups (360 mL) flour

4 large eggs

pinch of salt

¾ cup (180 mL) milk

¼ cup (60 mL) grated Parmesan cheese

3 tablespoons (45 mL) olive oil

olive oil as needed

For the sauce

¼ cup (60 mL) olive oil

4 garlic cloves, finely sliced

½ cup (120 mL) onions finely diced

1 tablespoon (15 mL) oregano leaves, minced

1½ cups (360 mL) diced tomatoes with their juice

1½ cups (360 mL) tomato purée

3 tablespoons (45 mL) tomato paste

water or chicken stock as needed

salt and pepper to taste

For the filling

¼ cup (60 mL) olive oil

4 shallots, sliced very thin

6 garlic cloves, pressed

¼ cup (60 mL) dry white wine

1 pound (½ kg) ground veal

1 cup (240 mL) cooked spinach, finely chopped

¼ cup (60 mL) basil leaves, minced

¼ cup (60 mL) capers, drained

the zest of 1 lemon

½ cup (120 mL) heavy cream

S&P to taste

For the service

8 slices Monterey Jack cheese, sliced thin

For the crêpes

• Beat the flour, eggs and salt together, into a smooth paste.  Add the milk, and beat until smooth.  Add the cheese and olive oil, blend well, and allow to sit for 30 minutes.
  
• Heat a 6-inch (15 cm) non-stick sauté pan over medium heat.  Rub the pan with a cloth or paper towel dipped in olive oil, and pour in enough batter to coat the bottom of the pan (the crêpe should be fairly thin - about 1/16-inch/1.6 cm).  When the top of the batter is nearly dry, turn the crêpe over, cook another minute, then remove to a plate.  Repeat until all the batter is used. 
  

For the sauce

• Sauté the garlic and onions in the olive oil without browning.  Add the remaining ingredients, including some water of chicken stock to thin as needed, and belnd well.  Simmer for 20 minutes, adjust seasoning, and set aside.
  

For the filling

• Sauté the shallots and garlic in the olive oil without browning.  Add the wine and simmer until nearly dry.  Remove from the fire, and set aside to cool.
  
• Place the shallots and garlic in a large bowl, and add the veal, spinach, basil, capers, zest, cream, salt and pepper.  Mix together thoroughly.
  
• Place a cylindrical roll of filling on each crêpe – about 1-inch in diameter, about 1-inch (2.5 cm) from each edge and slightly off-center.  Roll up, then trim and remove excess crêpe from the ends.  Set into an oven-proof casserole, top with the sauce, and bake at 375-degrees F (190-degrees C) uncovered for 30 minutes. 
  
• Top the crêpes with the sliced cheese, and bake another 10 minutes.
  

NB: Cannelloni typically includes an ounce or two of Béchamel Sauce on top - you can forgoe the milk-based white sauce, and substituted two slices of Jack cheese – melted under the broiler.

 
― ● ―

The production line in the GEU kitchen consisted of me in the center, Anna the pantry lady to my left (a very petite, very quiet and hard-working Cantonese woman), and Ronnie Wong the second cook to my right.  Wong was a known gambler in San Francisco’s Chinatown, and he would stay out all night on occasion, playing in the clandestine gambling dens there – though he always seemed to stay ahead of the loser’s curve.  He owned a home, had a wife and kids and probably kept the day job just to appear respectable and to keep the cash coming in when his luck was down.  After about a year, he began to butt heads with me, and it became obvious that he resented me intensely.  Maybe it was a Cantonese thing, the jockeying for power in a work space. 

For the time being, I settled into my job, and once again I was on fire.  My specials helped boost business, and downtown workers would come in just for certain dishes – sometime ordering them ahead by telephone before they arrived.  The following were some of the specials I served during that time: 

• Poulet à l’archiduc (a half roast chicken with a Velouté flavored with brandy and garnished with lemon).
  
• Lasagna Napolitana (regular layered lasagna and cheese, with meatless tomato sauce).
  
• Stuffed Zucchini, Risi Bisi (stuffed with rice pilaf garnished with green peas, ham, red pepper).
  
• Osso Buco, Risi Bisi (braised veal shanks with a rice dish).
  
• Boeuf Bourguignonne, Poppy Seed Egg Noodles (the French standard, with an Austrian touch).
  
• Plommonspakad Flaskare (Swedish-style Roast Pork Loin stuffed with apples and prunes).
  
• Ragoût d’agneau à l’Indienne (Lamb Curry, with accompaniments: raisins, peanuts, mango chutney, chopped pickled eggs, kachumba [cucumber, tomato, onion, cilantro], and raita [yoghurt + mint + cucumber].
  
• Poulet à l’estragon (Roast Chicken with Tarragon Velouté).
  
• Sweet k Pungent Pork (the best Sweet & Pungent Sauce outside of mainland China).
  
• Sweetbread Salpicon, à la façon du Chef (sweetbreads, onion, mushroom, artichoke hearts, bound in tomato demi-glaze).
  
• Tarte Chaud de Porc, à la façon du Grand Souterrain Électrique (Pork Pot Pie, GEU Style).
  

 
― ● ―

The Sweetbread Salpicon was a bit ambitious – like how many office workers in an American City have the dining sophistication to eat a stew for lunch that included a cow’s thymus gland? 
I only ran this dish occasionally, but one of the patrons who had it for lunch one day walked into the kitchen afterwards to tell me it was one of the best lunches he had ever had. 
For me this was proof that once again the chef was on fire. 
And as business continued to boom, it was clear that my daily specials were contributing to the success of the GEU. 

 
― ● ―

Pork Tart, GEU Style
(Tarte Chaud de Porc, à la façon du Grand Souterrain Électrique)

For the dough

1½ pounds (1½ kg) flour

1 pound (½ kg) unsalted butter

2 eggs in a 1 cup (240 mL) measure, the remainder filled with ice cold water

For the filling

1 pound (½ kg) boneless pork loin

salt, pepper, and oil as needed

½ cup (120 mL) each: seedless green grapes; pineapple, cut into ¼-inch (.6 cm) dice; golden raisins; brandy; rutabaga, cut into ¼-inch (.6 cm) dice