Chez Christine

New Chapter

Although they've died down recently, I get emails asking me about various things from cuts of meat to restaurant recommendations in cities I've lived in.  The most popular themes, though, are about Le Cordon Bleu, Paris and what I've done with myself since.

A lot of people write when they have questions or doubts about going to the school, about its curriculum, about housing, about whether or not it's worth the (substantial) monetary investment.  The remaining people ask what kinds of positions are available in the food industry to graduates, with some thinking about restaurant jobs but more often than not, what else is out there.

It's been something I've struggled with for the past 3 years since graduation.  My one-week stint at a Parisian restaurant assured me that I was not cut out for restaurant work, at least behind the line.  As much as I was fascinated with the whole process and loved the adrenaline rush, the usually low pay and rough hours were discouraging.  Not to mention potentially having personal relationships suffer if you have such different work lifestyles.

So what CAN you do?  I was lucky that my timing worked well and I got into America's Test Kitchen as an intern.  The application process was not difficult, so the tougher aspect was dealing with working full-time for 3 months unpaid.  The whole experience, not to mention the notoriety that it has, was totally worth it.  I learned a ton on testing professionally, I had 8 hours a day of a wide variety of pure cooking that really honed my skills more than cooking school ever could, and I was dealing with a great group of people who taught me a lot.  It wasn't difficult decision to stay on after my internship to see if staff positions opened up, which also helped me to get asked to help with their TV show taping, valuable and rare experience.

When the stars didn't align for open positions, I was a little lost.  My whole time in Boston during the internship, I had been teaching at a children's cooking school.  I ramped up my hours, got more involved in planning menus for the school year and for summer, and threw all my energy in there.

Then I walked into Stir in Boston, fell in love with the cookbooks and what they do, and asked for a job on the spot.  It's really true that in the food industry, if you see something you want to be involved in, you just ask.  It's not as formal and you just have to be gutsy and passionate about it.  They hired me and I got experience in fine dining / guest services, a little management, and the world of cookbook buying.  More experience in things I never thought I'd be doing.

Fast forward to last year, and I moved back to San Francisco with a vague idea that I would consult with menu and recipe planning, hoping that I'd find more to do.  The work was there, but not in the volume I had hoped for.  Another chapter in 3 years of no to low pay, and sometimes no clear career path.

But the persistence has finally paid off.  I cold-called for food positions out here, including for catering companies and a school lunch program, but nothing hit.  I almost decided to see if I could find something back in advertising, what I did before picking up the knife kit. 

Then it happened - a position that I'm ecstatic about: full-time, with benefits, normal hours - there are so few of these in the food industry!  I'm joining the test kitchen at Chow.com next week, cooking with their small group, doing some editorial work, and basically combining a lot of skills I've picked up over the years into one job, plus picking up a few new ones like food styling and prop/grocery shopping.  I'm thrilled that I'm not leaving the kitchen.

It feels great and exciting - the team seems vibrant, interesting, and passionate.  Looking back, all the jobs I've chosen helped me be the candidate they were seeking.  It was a hard and bumpy road, and not everyone has the patience or support from family and friends that I had.  But there is hope!  Big lesson I learned: take jobs you really are interested in. Only then can you learn and grow, hopefully taking you along a path that ends in where you want to be.

Bon Appétit!

Carts, Trucks, Windows

kitchenette's indian-inspired fried chicken sandwich
with garam masala honey, chile mayonnaise

The interesting phenomenon of the San Francisco food scene right now is the emergence of takeout, sometimes mobile, lunch spots.  It all started with The Sentinel downtown, a tobacco shop that turned into a breakfast and lunch takeout counter.

Then came kitchenette, an offshoot of a catering company that uses its loading dock as a semi-charming way to do 2 - 3 lunch options a day.  About the same time emerged curry and crême brulée carts and even mobile arms of restaurants that serve chowder or French food from vans and trucks.  You  can get chicken and waffles at Little Skillet (although I don't recommend the waffle dog). There's a bicycle that goes around downtown selling Boccalone sandwiches.  Even Town Hall now serves takeout lunches that include some of their specialties.  Twitter seems to be the main form of advertisement of these places, which is quite effective in communicating rotating menus and varying locations.

Some of these places have permits to sell food, but some don't, making it a bit risky for those who like to have some assurances of food safety.  Prices are usually reasonable but are still not at the level of say, traditional taco trucks in Oakland.  These new places in San Francisco reflect the culture of the city, with many using organic ingredients and serving on recyclable or compostable packaging.  Even the Ferry Building is getting into it, with the start of the new Thursday market in a few weeks, bringing some produce vendors but mainly prepared foods (I would personally rather they bring back the Thursday evening produce market for those who can't go to farmer's markets mid-day).

It's quite intriguing to see these places that have lower start-up and maintenance costs as well as lower service staff expenses in these financial times.  Chefs have started to narrow down their menus, usually settling on comfort foods that fit in with the casual nature of the business.  It seems to have replaced the previous trend of fine-dining chefs who opened bistros or casual restaurants, stating desires to cook simpler food that reminded them of home.

San Francisco has fairly temperate weather which allows for such businesses to operate year-round.  Can you imagine standing in line outside a loading dock in a foot of snow?  The ambiance for each of these new places ranges from being near picturesque parks and food courts with ample seating to squatting down on a sidewalk in order to be able to use both hands to eat with.

In general, I've been enjoying hearing about and sampling these places.  Small, focused menus mean the execution is usually quite good, especially since San Francisco isn't known for having quick, accessible lunch places.  This trend reminds me of many countries in Asia where hawkers or food vendors specialize in one or two things and take pride in what they produce. 

I applaud one side effect of these places: getting people to eat outside again. Having lived through two Boston winters, I've lost sympathy for native Californians who shiver when it's 60 degrees and reach for their wool coats.  Eating outside in fresh air is a privilege I don't take for granted anymore.  Being able to have delicious and interesting foods while doing so makes it even better.

Bon Appétit!

Nostalgia

As much as I probably don't seem the type, I think I am a nostalgic person.  Sometimes little things will trigger distant memories that, pleasant or unpleasant, have me thinking and remembering, make the wheels in my mind spin round and round.

When tasting a seemingly run-of-the mill French goat cheese a few weeks ago, I turned to H and said, "This tastes just like France!"  It was a simple crottin, aged for a little bit but still creamy in the middle, yet just had such an essence of France in its flavor that it stopped me in my tracks.  As much as I love the domestic cheeses that have crept their way into our rotation, I don't associate them with a specific time in my life, a time when I can honestly say I loved almost every part of where I was living and what I was doing.  This crottin, however, seemed to have more magical effects.

Exactly 3 years ago, I was packing up my bags to leave Paris after living there for 9 months.  It was bittersweet, as I had always been madly in love with the city, but had also fallen in love with a certain Bostonian who was waiting for me on the other side of the Atlantic.  I hadn't planned to work while there, but the quickly depleting bank account led me to take on random jobs that somehow fell my way: fixing computers for Parisian housewives, tutoring their children in English by cooking with them, and organizing a professor's personal papers among others.  I even managed to do a brief internship at a 1-star Michelin restaurant.

My favorite job was one which David Lebovitz recommended me for, an amazing occurrence considering we had never met.  This job was to give market tours to American tourists, something that exhilarated yet scared me.  Yes, I trolled the markets almost daily, sampling, nibbling, and ogling the beautiful wares, yet the thought of sharing what I knew in exchange for a paycheck seemed a dream job.  I'd like to think I would still be doing that if I were living in Paris.

So nostalgia hits you in ways unexpected, sometimes pleasant, maybe sometimes unpleasant.  Luckily, the bite of goat cheese took me back to happy memories.  Just last night, I tasted some of the Clay-Pot Miso Chicken I was braising and the combination of shitakes and chicken brought me right back to one of my grandmother's signature dishes.  I can't wait to have it for dinner tonight to be transported back to her dinner table again.

Bon Appétit!

Grandmother's House

I've been tagged by Jo for a meme at the Dancing Deer Baking Company for their "Sweet Home" initiative:

Dancing Deer’s Sweet Home Initiative raises money for scholarships to help educate homeless women and end family homelessness. As a part of this initiative, our CEO, Trish Karter, will be riding her bike 1,500 miles from Atlanta to Boston, visiting family shelters in each city to raise awareness about this issue. She’ll also be recording stories from the women she meets along the way, asking them about their experiences. One question she’ll ask them are what foods remind them of home. (See more here.)

Trying to pick something reminding me of home was actually more difficult than I expected, given how I grew up in a family that loved food.  Food was the central theme at my grandmother's house, where we ate dinner at least 4 - 5 times a week growing up.  She loved to cook and expected family to be around, and my parents happily obliged.

If we didn't eat at grandma's, we ate out.  My dad was the one who always initiated going to new restaurants, trying new foods, and reasoned that it was too much of a bother to shop, cook, and clean up when there were so many inexpensive restaurants around.  So even though both my parents are great cooks, home-cooked food always evokes memories of grandma.

There was always a common theme for dinner: white rice, stir-fried dishes, steamed dishes, vegetables, sometimes Chinese BBQ takeout, and always a soup, usually loaded with a flavorful broth and soup bones I would gnaw on.  She always managed to get multiple dishes onto the table at the same time, steaming hot- sometimes I think my sense of cooking timing and mise en place comes from her.  Her best trick was to keep food warm in the electric rice cooker, sitting atop a wire rack. 

When we all pitched in to move the food from the kitchen to the dining room table, I always liked the job of opening up the rice cooker and seeing what was inside.  There could be anything from steamed spareribs to a whole steamed fish, sometimes chicken stewed with Chinese sausage and black mushrooms, or one of my favorites, minced pork with water chestnuts.  After moving the hot fragrant dish to the table, I'd gingerly remove the rack with a pair of chopsticks, then use the chopsticks to fluff the rice.  God forbid I used the rice paddle/scooper to fluff the rice, I'd get a quick admonishment for doing so.  I think she thought that fluffing rice with something flat would mess up the texture.

In any case, after being fortunate to always have a meal with multiple dishes, our meals would end with her famous soups, always flavorful and fresh, nourishing and a true sign of a great cook who was resourceful yet demanded the freshest ingredients from her daily trips to Chinatown.

So while yes, there are lots of specific dishes that might remind me of home, the steam and smell that emanates out of a rice cooker, sometimes with a little surprise sitting on top of it, is what reminds me of home the most.  Home was grandmother's house, her beaming proudly from the head of the table, while the rest of the family quickly emptied the platters of food she labored over everyday.

Bon Appétit!

Cake Disaster

This is why I don't do pastry.

And why I told my family never to ask me to make cakes again.

For my dad's birthday last October, I was commissioned to make the birthday cake.  Somehow, going to culinary school automatically means you can make cakes and pastries, even though I never once take any of those classes at school.  Apparently I can make puff pastry, Opéra cake, and probably spun sugar pieces because I was in the same building as the pastry students!

In any case, I was ambitious enough to try to make the Cook's Illustrated Lemon Layer Cake, which was yellow cake, lemon curd filling, and a light Italian-meringue type frosting.  I decided to switch the filling to my famous lime-ginger curd instead to make things more interesting.

Unfortunately, my cakes stuck to the bottom of the pan and cracked into pieces, plus they just didn't have much oompph in terms of flavor.  I resorted to good ol' Duncan Hines from the cupboard and luckily was able to have a replacement.  The frosting was light, but also didn't have much character to it, but at least it was spreadable and acceptable.

Then came the worst part: decorating.  My one class at Michael's on cake decorating taught me how to hold a pastry bag correctly, but as for actually creating things with it, let's just say you see the sad results above.  The most brilliant piece, however, must have been when I found Oreo cookies in the cabinet and thought they'd make a fine border.

Oh well, everyone liked it.  Or pretended to. 

Lesson learned: Oreos will always save the day.   And I will never make another birthday cake again.

Bon Appétit!

Abounding Changes

Changes.  BIG changes.

Life has installed many of the above in just the past few weeks alone.  Why the above picture, you ask?  Behold the contents of one kitchen drawer, two well-stocked knife kits, and a mountain of gadgets two food people have amassed in a few short years.  I think we probably utilize 80% of it, but seriously, why do we have 10 mini whisks?

I took the picture as we were preparing for the move from Boston to San Francisco.  Yes, Chez Christine is back home in the Bay Area!  So excited to be back in the land of composting, agreeable weather, and so many good places to eat my head is swimming with the possibilities.

Another highlight has been our engagement.  I guess it is possible to move to Paris, find love in a cooking school, and live happily ever after, at least in my friend Michael Booth's book about our experiences at LCB.  Apparently H and I are the romantic leads.  (Go buy a copy to follow Michael as he vividly relives our lobster butchering session!)

So I'm floating in the clouds (well, fog) right now, even though unpacking and settling in has been more of trial than I anticipated.  I've officially made my move to being a recipe consultant on hopefully two projects and also hope to be able to write and express myself back here at Chez Christine, including making the brand new layout you see.  The life of a consultant can be carefree but also a little uncertain.  Hopefully, my experiences in recipe testing, cookbooks, and even things like kitchen wedding registries will lead to fun jobs out here.  Contact me if you're interested!

Bon Appétit!

Brushes with Stardom

Have you ever had things happen in your life where you just want to shout it from the rooftops?  Where you get thrilled, excited, and downright giddy, yet you don't tell many people because you think they won't understand?

Sometimes I feel that way about food.  I'm constantly mulling over my next meal, the next restaurant I want to visit, the next thing I want to cook.  I get polite smiles and nods from people not into food, but they are clearly thinking, "Why do you waste so much time and energy thinking about something as basic as food?"

Well, I do, and that's just me.  No apologies.  Food is my life.  Most who read my blog are about as crazy as I am, so it's about time I shared a few wonderful experiences that happened to me months ago.

You never know who will walk in the door at work. Lots of top Boston chefs come in to browse, purchase books, hang out, or just visit.  Even though I am still a little new to the restaurant scene here, I've met some great people and realized that Boston is slowly waking up its food scene.  Chefs here are fairly down-to-earth, and I enjoy talking to them.

The only time when I was reduced to schoolgirl flutters was when Chef Lynch walked in with Chef John Besh to give him a tour of her businesses here in the South End.  Yes, he was on the Next American Iron Chef, and I thought he was robbed.  Nothing against Michael Symon, but Besh deserved to win.  In any case, in comes an entourage with him in the middle.  Southern boy charm, all smiles, super nice, and all I could squeak out was, "I ate at your restaurant a few years ago and loved it!" to which he replied, "Well, I hope you come again."

I clearly remember eating alone at Restaurant August in 2003.  It was my last meal in New Orleans, and I was nervous about going to such a nice restaurant alone, but I forged ahead and did it.  Scallops over risotto- the first time I had eaten perfect risotto.  The restaurant was vibrant and classic, retaining Southern charm but somehow feeling up-to-date, unlike the other classic New Orleans institutions which had timelessness but also a sense of quiet detachment.  I fell in love and instantly loved Chef Besh and his food, but then again, I'm a sucker for anyone French-influenced.  Very few other chefs have done the same for me, and I felt that I "discovered" him before he became a celebrity chef.

After he left Stir, I managed an excited phone call to H, who is probably one of the few people who understood my excitement.  Even the chef at work didn't really know who he was, so I needed an outlet to squeak to.

A week later, we held a class hosted by the owner and sake sommelier Nancy Cushman at O Ya .  The buzz at O Ya has been tremendous, especially with Frank Bruni's recent endorsement.  Our class was held before his review, and I had the privilege of participating and assisting Nancy.  She brought her charming sushi chef with her, and we transformed the space into a sake tasting room.  This was before all the national buzz about O Ya, so even some of our guests hadn't really heard of the restaurant yet.  While it was on the top of my must-try list, I had been saving it a for a special night out due to the high prices.

Nancy was sweet, informative, and down-to-earth, demystifying sake and its history and customs.  Her sushi chef made amazing combinations with watermelon pearls and Kumamoto oysters, foie gras nigiri, hamachi with a spicy sauce I don't remember but distinctly remember inhaling.  Each bite was carefully and beautifully created and further pushed my resolve to someday save up to visit the restaurant.

At the end of the evening, Nancy gifted myself and the Stir chef with a bottle of sake wrapped beautifully in purple cloth.  It sits in the cabinet to this day, teasing the chef and I until we find the right time to break it open to savor and celebrate.

So this post has been a long time coming, partly because I didn't want to seem like I was bragging.  It's really just excitement that I hope I'm conveying, along with a sense of feeling extremely fortunate that I get to work in such a dynamic place and get to interact with such outstanding people.

Bon Appétit!

My Funny Friends

I teach kids of all ages, anywhere from 3-15.

My current favorite 7-year old (shhh, of course I really don't have any favorites) made some comments recently that made me just want to grab and hug him, especially when his classmates are making "eww" and "gross" noises when we cook with things they don't like.

On fish:
"I LOVE sushi.  I don't like cooked salmon, I only like raw."

On raw chicken (and exclamations of seeing "blood" on it):
"Mmm...I love blood."

On the onions cooking in the sauté pan on the stove:
7-year old: "I think there's caramelization going on in here!"
Me: "What's caramelization?"
7-year old: "Umm, I don't know."

Bon Appétit!

Chinese Dining Etiquette

The idea of Chinese Dining Etiquette has been floating around in my head recently, although I'm not sure why.  I eat Chinese much less often now, let alone eat it in the restaurants at a big table.

Nevertheless, there are a few things I've picked up in my years dining as a Chinese American that I thought might be fun to share.  I don't know the history of these things, but it might make you a little more confident should you garner an invitation to a Chinese banquet or home-cooked dinner.

Chinese Banquet:

• Lazy Susans are lots of fun, but as the dishes arrive, they are always spun to the guest of honor first.  If you are sitting next to the guest of honor, you serve them a portion before you serve yourself.  If there is no guest of honor, spin to the oldest person first.  (And it always seems to spin clockwise, but don't tell me why.  I think you can spin either way depending on which is more efficient.)  Always look before you spin, as someone may be serving themselves or others and can be quite baffled if the dish is whisked away!
• NEVER NEVER NEVER take a full portion of a dish on the first round.  For example, if there are 10 people at the table, you don't take 1/10 of the portion, like you might with an American meal.  You take a small amount, probably a piece or two of each thing, then you go back for more after you've finished the first round.  This is so that everyone gets to have their favorite bits first, and no one has to worry about the first person grabbing it all for themselves.
• Always use the serving utensils provided.  If there aren't any available, it is acceptable to use the tops of your chopsticks instead.  Switch back to the regular end when actually eating.
• Should a whole fish be served, someone experienced in the art of "deboning" the fish usually gently pushes aside the scallions and ginger, then uses the spoon to gently scrape the fish off the bones and cut into portion-sized pieces.  You don't just scrape what you want off the bones and neglect the rest of it.  Ask your waiter for help if no one in your party knows how to do it.
• When serving tea, serve those around you first.  If you are served tea, you can silently indicate "thank you" by tapping a finger on the table next to the teacup twice.
• Never season a whole dish with salt/pepper/soy sauce/hot sauce.  However, you may season your own portion.  Out of respect for the chefs / cooks, always taste before seasoning (that's my general rule for all dining though).
• Banquet menus sometimes don't include steamed rice.  This is because the food is supposed to be rich, sumptuous and filling by itself.  Fried rice or noodles may be served at the end as a course in itself.  I'm not sure if it's okay to ask for steamed rice along the way.
• Bones should be removed from the mouth with chopsticks if possible.  You can use fingers for seafood or bone-in pieces of meat, but the sign of an experienced chopstick-user is to use only chopsticks!
• Ice water is usually only served if you ask for it.  Same with drinks, no one will hand you a menu or ask, it's up to you to inquire from your waiter.
• If the server is trying to clear a dish that has a few pieces of food left on it, don't be surprised if the host or someone near you sweeps it onto your plate.  Don't worry, it's a compliment and you don't have to eat it, even though that wouldn't stop me!

Invitation to someone's home:

• As always, a guest should never show up empty-handed.  A box of pastries (since Chinese are not known for desserts) or a bag of oranges (sign of good luck) are always welcome.
• Chinese events start on time, please do not be late.
• Chinese home cooks can be very self-deprecating.  Even when serving their famous dishes, they can preface it by saying, "Oh, it's not as good as it usually is" or "Oh, it needs a little more XXX seasoning."  This is your clue to forcefully jump in and say that it is quite delicious just the way it is (hopefully it is!). 
• Again, soy sauce isn't a table condiment in Chinese homes, so please don't insult your host by pouring it all over your food before tasting it.  And maybe, just once, your food doesn't need soy sauce!
• Soup can be served at the beginning or the end of the meal.  Just roll with it.

I'm sure there's more I can babble about, but I think this is a good start.  All this talk of Chinese banquets is making me hungry!

Bon Appétit!

Why I *Heart* San Francisco

SF Ferry Building, Dec 2007

Bon Appétit!