by Food Woolf on September 2, 2010
It takes a lot of faith and trust to let something—or someone—change before your eyes. It takes a lot to stand by and watch the process happen, even if you know the final outcome. You can observe, be ready to assist, and offer positive thoughts and well wishes, but ultimately the changing process is up to that person or thing. Some things are just out of your hands.
Take for example Vietnamese Caramel Sauce, or Nuoc Mau. This is a simple syrup made from sugar and water that requires a few seconds of stirring and then fifteen minutes of mindful watching.
What? No stirring? No touching? No manipulation of outcome? Gasp!
This is the only time you can control the sauce
It took several failures to learn my lesson in resisting the urge to control the sauce. I had no idea how hard it would be for me to stare at a bubbling pot of hot sugar without manipulating it. I mean, one stir of a spoon and you can ruin the whole thing. An entire batch, ruined because of the need to control the cooking process of sugar and water?
Making Nuoc Mau opened my eyes to just how far my control issues go.
Continue for my Vietnamese Caramel Recipe »
by Food Woolf on August 28, 2010
Great Restaurants Have Inspired Many New Restaurants...For better or for worse.
Eating at a great restaurant is like encountering sirens at sea: though thoroughly beguiling, a magnificent dining experience can make you do foolish things. Legions of enthusiastic food lovers have crashed their budget on the rocks with an impossibly expensive bottle of esoteric wine or overspent on a tasting menu they couldn’t afford. Bewitching cooking methods have influenced kitchen renovations, spurred the rise in molecular gastronomy tool kits for amateurs and inflated the enrollment rates at culinary schools. Though risky, these are but mere dalliances with danger when compared to overnight restaurant openings and food truck roll outs.
The siren song of flawless service and impeccable food can lull the smartest of men and reasonable of women into a dream state where restaurant ownership seems like a good and easy choice. A well-run restaurant has the power to hypnotize mere mortals and make them empty their bank account and mortgage their home for the promise of serving their three favorite dishes in a well-designed dining room.
Listen to me very carefully. Resist the temptation. Ignore the symphony of wouldn’t it be wonderful and at my restaurant we’d do things like this, only better.
It takes a very special person—the kind of person who loves the roller coaster rush of not knowing what’s going to happen next, enjoys making very little money, loves people, is calm under pressure, thrives in chaos, thinks a twelve-hour workday six days a week is reasonable, and feels more comfortable taking care of others than themselves—to survive the life of a restaurant owner. You’ll have to do plenty of unexpected things–things like plunge a toilet, shop for vegetables at midnight, wash dishes in an expensive suit, bus tables, dust chandeliers at 2 in the morning, eat scraps from a cold plate of food because that’s all you have time for, and so many other things that will shock you. Someone will no show for work, something will break, customers will be disappointed (even if you’re doing a great job), and there will always be some kind of a personality conflict occurring—no matter how hard you try–somewhere between the front door of the dining room and the employee exit out the back of the kitchen.
Perhaps the siren song of restaurant ownership has made you fearless. Understood. Influential restaurants and great dining experiences can carry a powerful tune. But before you swim towards the cliffs of restaurant ownership, I suggest you follow this simple six-step plan to determine your fortitude as an owner/operator.
Continue to Learn about the Open Your Own Restaurant Challenge »
by Food Woolf on August 18, 2010
Ever since I took on the job of Service Guru I’ve been doing a lot of work. Beyond the obvious stuff—learning the menu, getting to know the employees and the customers, and coming up with business strategies—I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching. Does my work in restaurants have the power to transform me into someone better? Does giving great service require I give generously of myself, put others before me, and be forgiving in everything I do?
Take, for example, the other service industry professionals. The flourishing minister or rabbi who must be humble and in control of his or her weaknesses. The successful butler who is accommodating and always gracious. The thriving caregiver, dedicated and understanding when a patient’s discomfort causes them to be cruel. To be of service, the individual is charged to uphold a lofty set of standards for those around them, even if they don’t know the people they serve by name.
I know service isn’t for everyone. But the more I think about living a life of service, the more I realize I’ve been interested in this sort of thing for a very long time. When I was little I wanted to be a teacher. In middle school, I dreamed of joining the Peace Corps and making a difference in the world.
Later, when I was a freshman in high school, I fell for a born again Christian named Rocky and started dreaming about missionary work. The problem was every time I was around the polished senior with a pooka shell necklace and leather coat, I kept thinking about the off-the-books-stuff like the missionary position. I went to Rocky’s youth group meetings in hopes of finding guidance from God and secretly listened to Prince’s Dirty Mind album after prayer circle. I did good deeds, prayed for others, and quietly suffered with shame as I felt a growing wave of longing for the affections of the boys around me.
As I struggled to define my faith, I wondered how a person could hold God in their heart and proceed in life without fault. How could I love God and yell at my brother or sister? How could I love God and make big mistakes?
Decades have passed since I defined myself by a particular religion (I’ve dabbled in many of the greatest hits and kicked around in some of the oldies and goldies). And yet, ever since embracing the concept of working in restaurants as a Higher Form of service—albeit on a plate-to-plate level—I’ve been feeling that same kind of moral and ethical confusion I experienced when I was a teenager at the beginning of my conflicted, coming of age journey. How can I maintain a high set of personal standards in a thoroughly chaotic and unfair world?
Continue reading
by Food Woolf on August 16, 2010
Lamb Burger with Mint and Pistachio Salsa Verde
Summertime is the season of burgers. Be it beef, bison, turkey, tuna, lamb, or tofu—I find myself craving a burger and its supremely satisfying proportions on a frequent basis. I love making new variations on the classic theme of burgers. Ground meat doesn’t take a lot of time to prepare or cook and, if done right, can be a real show stopper if the right ingredients are used.
My husband and I work in the restaurant industry which means our off duty time is during the daylight hours. So for us, many of our best meals together are during lunch. Because of this I’ve began perfecting elegant, open faced burgers that taste great, have enough protein to sustain us through a long night, and go easy on the bread.
Thanks to the good people at Jimenez Family Farm (based in Santa Ynez, they drive down to the Hollywood Farmers Market every Sunday), I discovered the beauty of a perfectly cooked lamb burger. Top the ground lamb shoulder patty with the complementary flavors of mint and sweet Santa Barbara Pistachios, and the results hit the flavor trifecta: simple, delicious, and true to the terroir. This lamb burger with a mint and pistachio salsa verde is so good, I’ve actually started daydreaming about owning my own restaurant and building the whole business around every juicy, burger-bite.
Continue to get the Lamb Burger with Mint and Pistachio Recipe »
