Wednesday, December 31, 2008

nicole's restaurant, mendon, vermont - circa 1986. my formative years ...

this video was created around 1986 at the restaurant where i did my most important/influential apprenticeship, nicloe's new american cuisine, mendon, vermont, usa. the restaurant was owned and operated by peter ryan and detlev martitsch-kreiner. eriksson hill was sous chef at the time, and after he left to go on to other projects i then became sous chef to detlev.

despite only working with these gentleman for a short 2 years i have to say it was the defining time for me in regard to my career in f and b and the manner in which i came to view not only the food, but my craft and my relationship to it and the world around me. if i had not spent that time under detlev's tutelage my life would not have become what it is today, i would not have had the experiences or opportunities that i have had, and i would not be able to look back and know that i was blessed to have had the chance of a life time. i think not a day has passed since leaving nicole's, and moving on to a kitchen of my own, that i have not thought about or used something of value from those days.

every time i view this video i get the same charge that i did when i first saw it. to know that i was a part of something that was as unique and wonderful as nicole's is fulfilling and rewarding in itself.


the video was produced, directed, filmed and edited by david huot (dh productions) for the purpose of being used as a local tv commercial spot to promote nicole's. given the fact that he was/is predominantly an action/sports videographer speaks volumes about his innate talent and pov.


the relationships/friendships that were formed at nicole's have lasted us all a lifetime, and i think will continue to do so. i am proud to have been a part of that little slice of culinary wonderment.
thank you ted, peter and eriksson, i would not have gotten this far without you.

and david, this video has been the center piece of my resume/cv since the first time i sought employment after leaving nicole's, thanks.


nicole's staff about the time of the video:



detlev (1st from left), eriksson (5th from left),
me (2nd from right), peter (1st from right)
(all back row)

some specials menus from that time:

mother's day @ hawk resort


a taste of new orleans

a taste of northern italy



2 comments:

terri@adailyobsession said...

u r d guy with d hat n beard? :D

d portions look awfully big. d training is what makes u a chef n me a cook :(

looking 4ward to more cooking vids. n happy new year!

the lunch guy said...

that is me. such a long time ago.

my brother, who is an amazing cook in his own right, sent me this ny times opion article about the terms chef and cook, i think you will like it. BTW - the author, marcella hazan, has some awesome cook books she has written and i highly recommend them to anyone who wants to create good italian cuisine.

___________________________________

No Chefs in My Kitchen

By MARCELLA HAZAN

Published: November 29, 2008, NY Times

“MY husband is such a great chef,” my hairdresser was saying.

“Oh,” I said. “What restaurant does he work in?”

“No, no, no, he doesn’t work in a restaurant. He is an electrician. But he does amazing things on the grill when we cook out during the weekend.”

This happens a lot. “Chef” has pretty much replaced “gourmet cook” to describe anyone who cooks well. How many times over the last few days, for instance, did you hear it used to refer to the person who prepared a Thanksgiving meal?

I must confess that the growing use of the word bothers me.

For starters, “chef” is a job description — a chef is someone who cooks professionally, usually in command of a restaurant’s kitchen brigade, and depending on the brigade’s size, he or she might not even be doing any of the actual cooking.

But I’m troubled by the word for another reason, one that goes beyond the precision of language and gets to the heart of how we experience food.

When my family and I ate out in the Italy of my youth and early decades of my marriage, we would look for any plain trattoria where we could find the kind of cooking that was closest to what my mother and father were putting on the table at home. The person making the meal may have been the owner or his wife or his mother, or someone working in total anonymity. He or she was never referred to as the chef, but as il cuoco or la cuoca, the cook.

This was the old world of Mediterranean family cooking, a world where satisfying flavors had been arrived at over time and by consensus. That world hasn’t disappeared, but it has receded, making room for a parallel world, one where food is often entertainment, spectacle, news, fashion, science, a world in which surprise — whether it’s on the plate or beyond it — is vital. This is the world of chefs.

I have known, and collaborated with, quite a few chefs. I don’t in the least begrudge them their laurels. Theirs is a life of sacrifice, and the fame they achieve comes with a price. It is no fault of theirs that we have chosen to fall to our knees before their work, revering it as the highest standard by which culinary accomplishment is to be measured. But this focus on chefs runs the risk of leaving us disoriented. What matters about food is what happens when we put it into our mouths. A caring family cook is just as capable as a skilled chef at turning that first bite into a blissful moment.

The food Americans eat that is made fresh at home by someone who is close to them is shrinking compared with food consumed at restaurants or prepared outside. And while eating out or taking in may save us time or bring us enjoyment, I would argue that it deprives us of something important.

I am my family’s cook. It is the food prepared and shared at home that, for more than 50 years, has provided a solid center for our lives. In the context of the values that cement human relations, the clamor of restaurants and the facelessness of takeout are no match for what the well-laid family table has to offer. A restaurant will never strengthen familial bonds.

Which is why, as we come together over the holidays, we should take a moment to think about how we might become cooks again. We could even begin, in these financially straitened times, by replacing store-bought presents with meals cooked at home.

After all, what experience of food can compare with eating something good made by someone you can hug? Like other forms of human affection, cooking delivers its truest and most enduring gifts when it is savored in intimacy — prepared not by a chef but by a cook and with love.

Marcella Hazan is the author, most recently, of “Amarcord: Marcella Remembers.”