IDEAS IN FOOD

The Great Cock's Comb Adventure

I have a bad habit of expressing opinions I should probably keep to myself. That judgmental viewpoint that slips so easily off my tongue will probably morph into an entirely different opinion given a little time to germinate. People surprise us all the time. Circumstances provoke unusual words and actions. Situations shift without warning. New information is revealed and secret motivations redeem the villain. Thoughtless remarks last forever, or so it seems. People's memories are long and you never know when a past faux pas will rear it's head. The problem with expressing one's opinions, especially negative ones, is that it's human nature to change one's mind. I'm often the victim of my own inability to keep my mouth shut. People who know me and love me tend to overlook this sad personality trait. I try to live and learn. It doesn't always work, although I do try.

A classic example of changing my mind would be about cock's combs. Years ago I tasted cock's combs and was not impressed. I had the impression of a slippery texture and a rich brown sauce leaving a gelatinous trail down my throat and into my gullet. I tried them again at another restaurant and was still slightly repulsed by the combination of their textures and flavor, or lack thereof. I proceeded to file them away in that box in my head labeled "not worth the calories". Whenever they were mentioned I tended to expound on my theory that cock's combs were overrated and probably utilized more for shock value than for flavor.

This year when we were discussing our tasting plate for Taste 3, our theme was earth. We spent a lot of time talking about the concept of earthiness. Since the event was hosted by Mondavi Vineyards our discussion naturally turned to wine. After all, what tastes more like the essence of earth than wine? We talked about the different flavor profiles of the different wines.  California Sauvignon Blanc with it's  notes of lean citrus, meadow grass and minerals.  Floral and slightly rounded Viognier with whiffs of honey and pale stone fruits. Barnyard-y Bordeaux with it's rich texture and layers of currants, leather, and green peppers tempered with oak and slowly softening tannins. Dusty Brunello with it's faint hint of roses and goat cheese, dark fruit and cedar trimmings. The list goes on and on. We discussed using a wine syrup but dismissed it as too cliche. We focused more on flavor profiles and our final jumping off point was inspired by the meories of a few rich Italian reds like Patriglione and La Poja, which led us to our fresh cheese element and the ideas of exotic peppercorns and smoky, ranch flavors, although we veered wildly back and forth throughout the discussions.

We agreed on a fresh sheep's milk cheese. That was the first step. Springtime is the time for these dainty cheeses, redolent of milk and pasture, melting softly on the palate. We talked about proteins and what would best suit our earthy theme. Alex became fixated on cock's combs. I was reluctant. Our discussions reached an impasse. We went round and round, tossing back and forth different ideas.  He just would not let go of the cock's combs. He had already begun trying to source them, secure in the knowledge that he would eventually wear down my resistance. After several days of debate, I finally acquiesced. At which point he began to second guess himself about whether or not we could convince people to actually eat the cock's combs. Of course it was too late to back down, we were committed. Besides, I certainly was not going to put up with any waffling at that point. The final dish was to be beer battered, smoky (confited in bacon fat) cock's combs sprinkled with bee pollen and grains of paradise, served with a fresh sheep's milk gnocchi seasoned with the flavors of ranch dressing and served with a garlic-lovage puree.

We sourced our cock's combs from D'Artagnan. Thankfully when we got to Napa, the cases of cock's combs arrived pre-peeled. For those of you unfamiliar with their anatomy, the combs must be blanched and the skins peeled off before they can be cooked. This is a very time consuming endeavor and one we were hoping to avoid in an unfamiliar kitchen, on a tight schedule. We confited the cock's combs in a combination of bacon fat, duck's fat and grapeseed oil , we did not requisition enough bacon fat before we arrived and had to cobble together the remaining fats from what Richard had available in his kitchen. True to form, I spearheaded the cooking of the cock's combs because if I don't enjoy something I have to cook it myself to see if I can make it palatable. They came out of the oven and they were delicious, silky and unctuous. Despite the myriad collection of fats used to cook them, they actually tasted like the essence of chicken. Much to my chagrin I was hooked.

The next step of course was figuring out how to fry the combs without setting the winery on fire. The test combs we battered and fried in the kitchen came exploding out of the pot like flying missiles.  I worked out a heavier batter that held more tightly to the cock's combs and crossed my fingers. Meanwhile Alex was having his own issues with the gnocchi. We were unable to get the cheese that we had wanted and were dealing with a substitution. The first batch was a bust. The cheese had an unpleasant chalky texture and flavor that lingered on the palate for what seemed like forever. Since the menu actually listed them as "ranch gnocchi", we decided to make them into ranch flavored sourdough gnocchi. Second batch was bomb, the acidity of the sourdough hindered the ability of the Methocel to hold the gnocchi together. In the meantime, our lovage garlic puree became a parsley, celery leaf and garlic puree because lovage was unavailable. In the last two hours before the event Alex finally worked out a successful batch of ranch gnocchi and we were ready.

As Alex was putting the finishing touches on our station, I was called outside to help out with the cock's combs. The fryer was set up downstairs, across the building and outside of where the actual event was taking place. We had a cook frying and and another cook running. When the runner brought the first batch up for me to check I knew there were issues. I had gone over the procedure with the cook but hadn't made it back downstairs to supervise the frying of the first batch. I ran downstairs and knew immediately that the batter was too thin. I fixed the batter, made some minor adjustments to the way the fryer was set up and dropped in a few testers. As I dropped them in, everyone around me took a giant step back. It was a telling moment and I knew immediately that there had been some flying missiles in the first batch. I quickly set a rack over the fryer so that nothing would jump out at me. Thankfully the adjusted batter held and I headed back upstairs to start plating with Alex and Jonathan.

All in all the cock's combs were a success. We told everyone to think of them as fried chicken, which they were. The beer batter was part of our strategy to get people to eat them. Almost everyone did. Many people enjoyed them. Many were glad that they didn't know what they were before they ate them. A surprising number came back three and four times to help finish the supply. We were exhausted and thoroughly pleased with the experience. It was a pretty damn good dish, especially for the first time we had ever played with cock's combs. People were enjoying themselves and we gave them something to talk about. We got to cook with some amazing chefs and met some incredible people. We even learned a thing or two ourselves. Still, I'll always remember it as the weekend I learned to love cock's combs.

 

Today

Just take a look...and see what can inspire.

Powdered Yuzu

I tried to like N-Zorbit (this is the product name), an interesting ingredient from National Starch which is also known as tapioca maltodextrin.  The product is an extremely light powder which when mixed with liquid fats turns the fat into a powder.  We first made powdered almond butter which we served with espresso ice cream and licorice.  The dish was tasty and the powdered almond butter fun as it melted back into a smooth paste in your mouth.  After the success of the almond butter we tried chorizo oil and a few other liquid fats.  I was just not happy with the results.  The flavors were alright and the taste adequate.  We put our N-Zorbit back on the shelf.

Today I pulled the N-Zorbit off the shelf.  We have some incredible yuzu oil in our pantry and I just thought why not give it a shot.  The yuzu oil is the byproduct of preserving fresh yuzu and when we mixed it with the tapioca maltodextrin we were treated to an intense floral and flavorful powdered yuzu.  It was well worth taking off the shelf today.  I came to the realization that sometimes it is best to be patient and wait for an opportunity to present itself.

Go

I have come to the conclusion that some things in life are just plain stupid.  And not stupid in a good way.  Example:  we no longer require gentlemen to wear jackets in our dining room.  The world has gone casual, we are in the west and well jackets are often perceived as a formalized oppression.  I tell guests this when I talk with them, and tell them again when they arrive.  Funny thing is some people actually enjoy wearing jackets and tell me so.  So get this.  Our first group of hunters arrived and they were youthful, put together and carried themselves with character.  As I showed them around last evening I mentioned again that we no longer require jackets in the dining room.  They said we brought jackets and want to wear them.  Great. 

Not really.  I get a phone call today from the barn and it has come to the ranch managers attention that the hunters are having a great time, they just do not like being forced to wear a jacket at dinner.  WTF!!!  I reply with the fact that no one has to wear a jacket and that I have made mention of the fact to the gentlemen.  Anyway, I am a bit bent, because hunting season has literally just started and my hopes of making at as seamless as possible are already wanting.  I digest the information and in passing make mention to the gentlemen that perhaps I was not clear last evening and that we do not require jackets for meals.  Again they said they had wanted to wear jackets and that they had plenty of clean shirts.

OK, so now I feel a bit stupid.  Am I making a mountain out of a mole hill.  It appears I am putting the darn boulders in place.  I call down to the barn and let the ranch manager know I addressed the jacket issue again with our guests.

I just do not know.  Life and situations sometimes explode without the help of explosives.  Now comes the opportunity to figure out if we really have an issue or if there is just a cloud of smoke. 

Sake-Root Beer

I started with the idea of glazing fish in a broth made with root beer and sake.  The problem with my idea is that as I tried to glaze the fish, the broth lost its character and furthermore did not have the right viscosity to glaze the fish.  Great, another failure. 

No, really great.  There was truly something special about the broth which balanced sake and root beer.  We added a dash of soy sauce and a pinch of salt just to pique the flavors in the root beer and the sake.  So, I just looked at the broth in the wrong context.  Instead of creating a glaze I just needed to use the broth as a broth.  Pretty clever.  I  put a squab breast and some of the broth into a bag and sealed it with our trusty food saver.  We then poached it in the broth at 52.5 degrees C for an hour.  The result was the flavors of sake, root beer and squab had married into a harmonious whole.  We served the squab with a ragout of porcini mushrooms and fiddlehead fern dumplings.  A few shavings of preserved black truffle completed the dish.

wd-50: in three services

Wylie.  You mention the name in culinary circles and you get responses from "the shrimp noodle guy," to "demigod," to "what the hell is he thinking?"  And the funny thing is I have not even given a last name.  Wylie and I have become friends over the years, working as culinary sounding boards and a voice of reason now and again.  In fact, Wylie was the reason I purchased and now will not let out of my sight a gram scale.  Disclosure aside, I do not always get why, how, and what Wylie and really Sam, the pastry chef and integral part to the cuisine at wd-50, are doing.  Though at the end of a meal or even a phone conversation I am full of questions, ideas, sparks and critiques.

These are our experiences. 

The day before Valentines

In our time east I have spent three evenings at wd-50.  The first was the day before Valentines Day.  What they do not tell you is that while Valentines day is busy, the day before is equally so though restaurants do not always prepare for the onslaught of last minute reservations, walk ins and fellas needing to make good because they forgot Valentines day and needed to do something quick to unf*%k there relationships. 

I did not know this and I can only speculate the restaurant did not as well.  Mind you, the day we were dining at wd-50 was the day after the storm.  The streets were slushy and we had spent all day in the city checking out restaurants and chocolate shops.  It happened to be the theme of the day.  We arrived early, about ten minutes to six and asked if we could take a seat at the bar.  Our feet were soaking, it was getting chilly and all I wanted was a cocktail.  The cocktails have a range, where each one relates to distinct personalities.  We were coldly informed that we could not come in, sit at the bar, have a cocktail or even remain in the building until six when the restaurant opened.  I asked again if we could just wait out of the cold and again was informed that the staff needed to have a meeting and that we should leave.  And so we did.  I was a bit perplexed because this scene did not match Wylie.  A restaurant is in many ways an extension of its creators. 

At seven we returned for our reservation.  We had a Guinness at bar around the corner and griped about being thrown out in the cold.  I guess we could and perhaps should have said we were friends of Wylie's but at the time in the moment it did not seem right.  Unfortunately our evening progressed along the lines of our greeting.  No, it was not a total disaster.  But the restaurant, more precisely our experience was wrong.  And I was frustrated. 

It is very difficult to tell a friend when something is wrong or off in a restaurant.  It is even more difficult when multiple things happen.  Fate sometimes has a way of giving situations a push.  I happened to run into Wylie as I was going to the bathroom and he asked how everything was going.  I paused and mentioned the flat bread tasted off.  His response was a bit expletive so I will not quote, though he explained he had been fighting with his sesame seed purveyor.  Furthermore, he commented on the comedy of errors which were happening in the kitchen and this happened to ice the cake.  I returned from the bathroom and explained my downstairs meeting to Aki and our friends.  We all have had nights like that in restaurants and cringe at them happening again.  In the meantime, our flat bread was taken away and was replaced with white sesame flat bread, the black sesame seeds were the flawed taste culprit, as well Dewey--Wylie's father and the floor manager--came over to thank us for pointing out the flaw and allowing them to correct the problem.  And our meal progressed and concluded.  I was disappointed, not because of the greeting and the culinary hiccups along the way but because it did not speak of what Wylie strives to create in terms of food, ambiance and experience.

March 2, My Stage

I arrived at the restaurant around noon.  As I mentioned culinary banter is good and if you can do it face to face all the better.  The restaurant was quiet, I had shown up an hour before Wylie said I should.   I still get edgy and wanted to explore the ins and outs of the kitchen and experience the first hand workings of wd-50.  I was greeted and shown where to change.  When I came back upstairs I was given the task of cutting Asian pear triangles for a hangar steak tartare dish.  No one really knew me.  I was just another stage eager to work for free so that I could take away ideas and concepts that have taken months to create.  And really I was.  I am always looking for ideas, ways to make food better, cleaner, more efficient.  I was there also to work through ideas.  Sure I did menial tasks, but in doing so I was free to look around, ask questions and think.  By the way, if no one did menial tasks there were be no food.  The work has to get done.  And Wylie's staff is equally open about ideas and sharing information.  Sure I was a stage but if I asked how, why, what, when, where and who I was given detailed open responses.  That was striking.  The kitchen truly is a learning center.

I also had time to work on some cavatelli.  Last year we made miso noodles a la chitarra.  We served them with roasted foie gras and had many other thoughts for there uses.  And I thought of miso gargenelli and other pastas as well.  I over looked cavatelli.  That is when I kicked myself when Wylie mentioned he had the thought of making miso cavatelli.  Brilliant.  I truly enjoy cavatelli-traditionally a ricotta based rolled noodle.  I had made many thousands of cavatelli at the Park Avenue Cafe and even more at Keyah Grande where we used fromage blanc and goat cheese instead of the ricotta.  So Wylie and I worked out a base recipe for miso cavatelli.  To be honest, this is the first time I had scaled all the ingredients for a pasta dough and in the end was quite happy that I did.  The cavatelli base was a good start and would take a few alterations but the base was solid.  That is how we have white miso cavatelli emerging on our Spring menu.  I look forward to seeing what directions Wylie takes with the cavatelli.  And my day and night progressed in this manner, mixing minute details with menial tasks in an open forum.  That is how the kitchen works and is able to break ground on many interesting ideas.  This is also where I divulged the story of our meal.  Wylie noted that our meal must have been pretty horrible if we had not written about it on our website.  As I was rolling out pasta dough I explained our evening in detail.  Wylie was verbally, visually and mentally upset, disappointed and frustrated.  He said "that is not what we do here.  I feel horrible and need to fix these errors." (I use quotes here though his exact words may have been slightly different.)

My second service  concluded with me cleaning skate wings with the fish cook at 12 am getting them ready for the skate cake--a method in which the skate wing is layered in order to cut uniform slices of skate for consistent cooking and presentation.  On this day I was able to be involved in someone else's world of making sure the small things were done well.  I left the restaurant with a smile and a desire to come back for dinner with Aki.

April 14 Dinner

We were supposed to go to dinner at wd-50 earlier in the week but life changed our plans.  In fact, we had to change our plans three times and were finally able to steal away for a quiet dinner just Aki and myself.  We arrived at the restaurant soaking wet, the sky's opened as we were walking from the subway station.  A bit of an ominous beginning to an evening though fate and superstition had the night off.  We were welcomed at the restaurant and our coats were whisked away to hopefully dry.  As we sat down I looked at Aki and said I need a cocktail.  The menus were presented and I saw what I needed.  A rum based drink with habanero infused cider and smoked maple syrup.  Aki had a cocktail "The Royal Blush" with cherry puree, vodka and sparkling wine.  I then took a moment to pop into the open kitchen to say hello.  Wylie and I chatted briefly and then he asked what we were going to do for dinner?  I asked if he would mind just cooking, and a smile crossed his face.  We then discussed wine and we both concluded that white would go best with his food, at least for the beginning of the menu.

I returned to my seat to enjoy my habanero cocktail and the meal began.  We started with a piece of tuna with powdered coconut, green mango puree and bell peppers.  Tasty.  I will write the whole menu in a separate presentation.  We saw, tasted and experienced an array of dishes, only a few of which were on any written menu.  The meal progressed and we were laughing and truly enjoying ourselves.  We were there it seemed to enjoy our time and completely erase the experience of our prior meal.  And we did just that.  The only hiccup of the evening was that two thirds through the meal our service slowed.  The kitchen faced an onslaught of orders and because of this the previous routine of getting a new dish every ten minutes slowed to twenty minute gaps.  Is this a huge issue?  Depends who you are and what is going on.  We were in Wylie's hands and happily relaxed with our wine.  But I mention this for several reasons.  Wylie still works a station every night in the kitchen.  That means he is both cooking and overseeing the entire dining rooms food from the the thick of the kitchen.  That means when you eat at wd-50 Wylie is cooking your food.  That means that when the kitchen is knee deep in orders trying to make the food perfect the chef is not only overseeing but cooking it as well.  Aki and I have been in small restaurants where we cook everything.  That is because we have been in remote locations in intimate settings, not New York City cooking for 90 to 120 people each evening.  I had time as our meal evolved to wonder if the food and entire experience at wd-50 would be elevated to a new level if Wylie gave up the reigns of a station and created one of his own where he could finalize everything, no questions asked. 

What I came away from my three experiences is that Wylie is manically passionate about what he does and puts on the plate.  No it does not always work, service can slow the pace of a meal but overall he is to be watched and learned from.  He is doing it his way and must be acknowledged for not letting the world at large knock him off course.

Conundrum

Recently, we have been approached to put advertisements on our blog in return for some monetary compensation.  That compensation comes as a result of individuals buying products through the portal on our site.  This does not make sense to me on many different levels.  After all, we are Ideas In Food, not ideas in advertising.  We have taken an enormous amount of time and effort to provide a medium in which we can openly share our ideas.  Why would we bastardize our work for the possibility of making a few dollars?  If we were to integrate advertising into our website what would that do to our credibility? 

And yet, there still exists the financial temptation.  How to sustain a website based on the continued development of ideas?  This is a question that has plagued us in recent months.  As our readership expands so does our visibility.  That is a good thing.  Yet, in order to continue to take chances, catalogue results and integrate technology we are faced with financial obstacles.  I have always believed that ideas are free.  Still, I spend thousands of dollars on cookbooks, tools, ingredients and dining experiences in order to constantly expose myself to different ideas, which in turn often spark new thoughts and concepts that we are able to develop and share.

Still, we have heard the stories, --possibly and most likely just fairy tales--of websites that are financially successful via the integration of advertisements and tip jars. I guess I understand the tip jar concept, though it can be frustrating at a pizza joint, a bakery, a local coffee shop and a website.

I have contemplated repackaging the tip jar and calling it a donation box or idea funding.  Sure, why not put out a hat and see if anyone chooses to contribute.  But, right now, that thought feels as though it belongs in the box of dumb ass ideas, a completely different box than my stupid one.

Where does that leave us?  We are always looking ahead for new ways to challenge and excite in the kitchen.  We continue to search for ways to make our ideas more accessible and to collaborate with other like-minded individuals.  The goal is to turn the process of searching for and sharing culinary knowledge into a profitable career.  One day we will figure out a way to make that happen.  For now, it is all still a work in progress where there are always more questions than answers.

Break What Works so You Have Something to Fix

It is rarely that I come across something so inanely stupid that it overflows from my stupid box and onto these pages.  We have all heard the adage “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it.”  Sure, that makes all the sense in the world.  Today I have become consciously aware of a new approach to dining.  It is based on the principle “break what works so you can have something to fix and put your own signature on it.”  Now that is pretty stupid, but now, upon reflection, I can say that I have seen it in a number of great establishments.  When a roadblock turns up people look at what has worked and what has gotten acclaim and then mess with it.  I mean royally flip flop, dumb down, and go for the mass market that would never come through the doors anyway. 

Now, why break what works?  The theory is that those who made it work in the first place will be able to do it again.  Whereas, fixing the things that actually do not work will take efforts, ideas and compensation beyond the reaches of the organization messing with the already successful.

Have I made a point?  Yes, be afraid of lack of vision.  It reminds me of a saucier I once saw intentionally break hollandaise sauce, just so he could be a hero when he fixed it.  The entire exercise was a waste of time, unnecessary and at the end of the day plain old stupid.  Why would anyone want to break something just so they could take credit for fixing it?  I have no idea, but it happens every day, especially in my world.

Potato and the Process

I thought I made great potato puree.  I did.  Now I am able to make incredible potato puree and it is functional.  How can potato puree be functional?  For years, as long as I have been cooking, making mashed potatoes has been a last minute event and an arduous process amidst the chaos of getting ready for service.  Potato puree had to be made at the last possible moment to insure silken textures and bright flavors.  While I love mashed potatoes, I began to avoid them as our remote nature and need to do more than cook has hindered some of these last minute preperations.  If I can prepare bases ahead and eliminate steps during the witching hour I am all for it.  Hence my discussion on functional mashed potatoes.  Heston Blumenthal of The Fat Duck has done the research and put pen to paper in his first book Family Food: A New Approach to Cooking.  The process is simple and while I will note the potatoes are thrice cooked I believe the price of the book is well worth the knowledge of the technique.  Besides, the book has many more concepts, techniques and ideas which should be part of the culinary canon.  Sure the book looks simple.  Try it, you will understand.

Today, we opted to use the potato as a palate for flavors.

Hot Maple Gratin

The Thermomix--our newest kitchen member--is proving to be both inspiring and perplexing in its applications.  While its basic uses are straight forward I am having difficulty aligning them to our culinary applications.  It is like learning to ride a bike in German.

Despite my continued failures, I persist and am learning more about the Thermomix and with each hiccup comes greater possibilities.  This morning I was able to work out a hot maple syrup gratin which I then crusted with smoked bread crumbs and served with fresh bacon, sauerkraut, nectarines and horseradish.
The gratin is ethereal in texture--whipped maple syrup--which is then broiled with a sprinkling of our smoked toast.  The light crumb provides a bit of texture before the gratin melts onto the  palate.

Going Uphill

I continue to struggle.  We achieve small successes in the kitchen though we are still going uphill.  I spent some time today working on fish--in this case steelhead trout-- enrobed and cooked in a pine nut cream cheese coating.  I was eventually able to get a worthy coating which sealed the moisture and flavor of the fish inside the hot chaud-froid.  My problem is that to recreate this cooking method on a large scale--in a restaurant larger than the intimate guest house--will be difficult.  And that is my dilemma.  The process works, but it is not efficient.  I continue to climb the hill.

It's a Mission Statement

    It’s easy to underestimate the importance of focus.  This point was brought home to me recently as I experimented with our new camera lens.  It is incredible at capturing minute details so that the iridescence of the fragile shell of a bubble of frothed liquid can be captured in all of its glory.  The downside is that it’s not an easy lens to use.  It can only focus on something very close up and our camera, which can be manual or automatic, acts differently with this lens attached.  It becomes more temperamental.  If I’m not careful in my adjustments the focus keeps pulling inwards until everything becomes an unrecognizable fuzzy haze.  It has become a common practice to take a step back and check my light and my positioning before settling in to finalize my focus and shoot my pictures.  If only I could become more adept at this technique in other areas of my day.
    Cooking actually has a built in focus.  There are recipes and services.  You are usually concentrating on preparation for a particular menu or meal.  Focus is inherent in the prep list that becomes an outline for you day.  There is always a time factor and a smart cook knows when it’s time to ask for help.  Unfortunately, the further away you get from the range, the harder it is to focus on the tasks at hand.  People think cooking is all there is to do in kitchen, but those people are wrong.  But there’s no convincing them, so most of the time I don’t bother to try.  In their minds cooking is all we do.  The reality is just a bit more complicated.
    Here at KG, we have a myriad range of responsibilities such as creating menus, finding suppliers, cooking food, staffing a kitchen, coordinating with the dining room, training your staff (hopefully an ongoing process), paying bills, cleaning everything, checking in orders, storing food, maintaining the wine cellar, updating the wine list, taking care of room service, writing advertisements, playing catch with the GM, working on packages for the hotel, jumping on command for marketing & PR, writing website copy, booking special events, chatting with customers (it may not sound like work, but it often can be, especially when you’ve three hundred other things to do), keeping up with new regulations, preserving ingredients, dealing with inspectors, killing hornets, the list could go on forever.  What’s interesting to me is how few people can see the scope of other people’s lives.  If you were to ask the person next to you what they do every day, I’m sure they would give a list with several items, much like the one above.  Ask the same person what the person next to them does every day and you would probably get a one or two word answer.  He or she is a (blank).  Somehow everyone else’s lives fit into a box.  My goal is to look beyond the box and try to appreciate and respect what other people do in the same way that I wish certain people would do for me.  That’s one small focus for me.
    Years ago we were catering an event in Westchester.  It was s somewhat swanky cocktail party and the hostess was obviously nervous and on edge.  She was buzzing around the house as we were setting up, fussing with the flowers, checking on the bar.  At one point she stopped short in the middle of the room and said sharply to herself, “Focus!  Finish your task.”  The room actually went silent but she never noticed.  She visibly pulled herself together and finished what she was doing.  It was humorous in a not so humorous way.  There have been many occasions where I’ve been reminded of those words and invoked them myself, albeit silently.
    So what is our focus?  It’s a question that has been discussed today at great length.   What are we trying to accomplish here?  There’s no easy answer.  We want that elusive dream of job satisfaction.  We want to feel good about going to work every day.  We want to come home at night feeling as though we’ve accomplished something, or at least made some progress toward achieving something.  We want the thought of cooking in our kitchen to bring a smile and not a frown.  We want to be successful, financially and spiritually.  We want to be recognized by our peers for the work that we do.  We want to share what we learn every day with others.  We want to have fun cooking.  We want people to leave our tables satisfied, dreamy and content.  We want people to walk through our doors anticipating an amazing morning, afternoon, or evening and leave through them feeling that anything is possible.  We want to create an amazing dining experience and the memories that live long afterwards.  That last statement is our actual focus, the rest is just gravy.  That’s actually not true, that’s just what we’ve been telling ourselves.  We need all of the things listed above to happen in order to create true job satisfaction, hell, we need it to create life satisfaction.  Now we just have to figure out how to make that happen.

The Flaw

The Vanilla salt was received well at the Aspen Food and Wine Classic.  In fact, many people asked us where they could buy the salt in the future.  The salt was distributed in tins with our logo, the description and our Keyah Grande web address.  We made one mistake, we used tins.  Unfortunately to those who do not use the salt in the immediate future they will notice a decomposition of the lid of the tin.  We apologize for the inconvenience.  Please feel free to transfer the salt to a plastic bag which will not react with the salt.  You will then be able to keep the vanilla salt indefinitely. 

The tin made sense for aesthetics and distribution, we just did not consider long term storage.  In the future, we hope to see the larger picture.