Embracing the tourist in me

Dear San Francisco,

I'm totally in like with you. Bashful tourist too cool to take photos, be damned!

It started with a picnic at Mission Dolores Park:

strawberries from Bi-Rite and quiche and zucchini bread from Tartine

and, later that evening, dinner at Fish and Farm, helmed by the awesome and infinitely talented Chad Newton:

the best gnocchi of my life thus far? Very possibly



The next day I met my new friend Matt at Ryan Farr's stand, 4505 Meats, at the Ferry Building Thursday Market:


where I quickly ordered (and devoured the crap out of) a Zilla dog combo:

Hot dog with kimchee, scallions and pork rinds. Yes please!

and wandered around the market stalls ogling the summer produce:




I spent the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art, whose rooftop contains a Blue Bottle Cafe, where I had a most delicious New Orleans style iced coffee. I was positively blown away by the current Richard Avedon exhibit:

a very morose Marilyn

as well as an exhibit featuring Robert Frank's "The Americans". Seeing those photos shook me to my core. I left SF MOMA thinking, 'Holy shit, these people made something incredible. I want to do something, I want to create something, I want to make something!'

I met an old dodgeball friend for a drink at 15 Romolo:

that there is a steep road to navigate in heels, I'll tell ya what

before heading to Coi for what was one of the most transformative dining experiences of my life. The tale will have to wait for the moment, as I have some Bi-Rite Creamery to get to before heading to Nopa for late dinner.

to be continued...

Comfortable

I'm not saying this to shake you up
I'm just saying this to wake you up
Its all good when we making love
All I ask is dont take our love
for granted, its granted
My love for you is real
Baby if you don't love me somebody else will
So baby girl don't you ever get too comfortable

So sayeth the all-too-wise Lil' Wayne in his track, "Comfortable".

(Yes, I just quoted Lil' Wayne. Stay with me here.)

Anyone who knows me reasonably well knows I have a place in my heart (and on my iPod) for so-bad-it's-good pop rap, and Lil' Wayne made it into the rotation about a month ago. I'll be sitting on the bus listening to this track, and every time I hear those lyrics I can't help but think that it's the restaurant kitchen singing me these words.

Crazy? Maybe a little. A kitchen will nurture you, but you're in danger the moment you become too comfortable. If you don't want it, "baby, if you don't love me somebody else will": there are hundreds of cooks ready and willing with deep resumes and sharp knives waiting to take your coveted spot. This is something I've constantly reminded myself of when I get down, when things get tough, when the everyday grind starts to feel monotonous.

A few weeks ago, I passed the one year mark of being at my current restaurant. I've loved and been loved, I've hurt and been hurt, and something keeps driving me. It's been an amazing journey, and one only needs to look about a year back on this silly blog to see how far I've come. I can't help but be a little proud of what I've achieved; moving from pantry to grill station within months of being in my first professional kitchen, being part of the team that garnered Restaurant of the Year from an influential Portland food writer, even the everyday stuff--putting up a perfect medium-rare and sending it off with the feeling in your gut that it's gonna make someone really fucking happy.

I'm still incredibly green, however, and I'll be the first to tell you that there is an untold amount of talented cooks out there who could do my job better, cleaner, faster. I'm working on becoming one of those better, cleaner, faster cooks. I'm eager to keep learning, progressing, moving forward, and though I've been through a lot in the past year, I know I've still barely scratched the surface.

Why all the waxing poetic? Well, I've been incredibly blessed by opportunity in the last few years, and a new one came to me recently to take a position that's opening up in another great Portland restaurant. It's a kitchen that I admire and frequent and whose food feels familiar yet exciting. Best of all, I'll be shaking up the comfort zone and trying something new. I'll be working at my current place for the next month and making my transition to the new spot in August.

Even more exciting news: I plan on taking a little sabbatical between jobs, wherein I plan on traveling to San Francisco and Los Angeles for a couple of weeks to eat a lot, visit friends, and stage in various restaurants. It occurred to me not too long ago that I've only ever staged in two restaurants, both of which I staged for employment rather than just for my own curiosity. I'm looking forward to seeing how other kitchens run, what the rest of the culinary world has to offer outside of Portland, and what the big deal is with the San Francisco culinary scene. Hopefully visit my internet buddy at Nopa. I've never actually visited San Francisco properly as an adult, and it seems highly overdue.

I'd love to hear some suggestions for dining and/or staging in SF and LA! Send 'em on, kids.

This summer is turning out to be an equally awesome, scary and exciting time in my life. I hope it stays this way.

Don't try this at home

This is what a month or so of being on grill and saute side at work has done to my hands and arms:







As you can see, my left arm has obtained the majority of burns and cuts, mostly because nearly all of my pan and saute work is done left-handed. Even though I'm naturally right-handed, I move and toss pans with my left hand almost exclusively, which is something I learned from my chef and sous. Good cooks use their strong hands to adjust seasoning, add liquids and taste with tasting spoons, and their weaker hand for pan movement. I've quickly picked up this habit, but I am still figuring out the most efficient way to move about, including putting pans into scorching hot 500 degree ovens, which is when most of my burns occur. The most recent burn is the one on the inside of my left arm nearest to my elbow, which I got last night in a harried string of pickups that included 12 steaks for a large party. Nearly every burner on our 18-burner front line was in use, as well as some of the back burners and back ovens.

I tend to wield my burns around like war wounds, and part of me thinks they're pretty badass. But it ultimately comes down to the fact that when I burn myself, it's a result of not being careful or working sloppily, which is something I try to keep in mind. Still, it's hard to avoid it completely when you're moving fast and simultaneously feeling like you're not moving fast enough.

I'll admit I've had my moments of frustration when I feel I'm starting to doggy paddle just to keep up with the string of tickets, and that fight-or-flight feeling of being overwhelmed is becoming more and more familiar. There are two things you can do in that situation: Give up (which is not an option) or keep pushing. Thankfully I've had a lot of help from my chefs and coworkers when shit becomes ridiculously hectic on the line, but I know I am ultimately responsible for bettering myself, becoming faster, more aggressive, more efficient and just being able to juggle it all.

On a related note, I was recently pointed to a blog called Line Cook (thanks Jeff!), which is written by a current sous chef at Nopa in San Francisco. I've found his writing to be extremely insightful as to what it's really like to be a cook, to the point where I've wondered if he's sitting in my head. Good reading, if you're interested.