Pay it Forward
By going to www.vanilla.com, the go to resource for all tropical products, weekly recipes, tips, and a blog section titled “Yes We Can” about socially conscious projects in developing countries, a section for farmers, book reviews, info and articles about all tropical commodities and how to use them (especially tea, chocolate, coffee and vanilla)
The goal of the creator, Patricia Rain aka the Vanilla Queen is for people on developed countries to have a better understanding of the political, social, and environmental issues of the tropics and why WE MUST support those who live there and grow the crops WE LOVE!
If the tropics go, our planet goes.
For socially conscious companies interested in advertising on their site or to purchase premium quality vanilla at a great price, go to www.vanilla.com. Or call Gina at 800.757.7511. Shipments are on Tuesday.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
A Cast Party in Mississippi
Last night, over dinner with my husband, we were talking about the Deep South. He asked me, over a bowl of sizzling rice soup, if I had ever been to Mississippi. I remembered, while working for Sally Field as her personal chef, traveling to Natchitoches for one week, an invitation from Sally to cook for the cast of Steel Magnolias. I took the invitation, hesitantly even though I had no desire to go to Mid-Mississippi; this was not New Orleans by any stretch of the imagination.
I arrived on a 100 degree 75% humidity, summer day, the air as thick as molasses. A driver picked me up at the airport and delivered me to a large Antebellum home on the outskirts of town, near where the crew was filming. I checked into my room and then jumped into a rental car provided by Sally, to explore the food markets in the area. . I needed to design a menu based on availability. The dinner party for twenty plus guests, was three days away. The cast was complaining that the food resources were very limited. They had enough crayfish to last them a lifetime and wanted fresh ocean fish, in addition to real cheese. I realized, after the visit to the local Wal-Mart and the Louisiana meat pie shop that I would have to buy my staples in Los Angeles and have them shipped to me, by Delta Dash, within hours.
I had my friend Dino Colu an Italian food Purveyor from San Pedro, Ca. and a private chef colleague, Edwin Saks, put an order together, of fresh Ricotta cheese, Salmon, Parmigiana Reggiano, Semolina Flour for Gnocchi, Galbani Mascarpone. There would be no faux lasagna made here with cottage cheese and dried Italian grated cheese. Not at this dinner with guests such as Sam Shepard, Julia Roberts, Daryl Hannah, Shirley McLain, Dolly Parton. My reputation was on the line and I knew exactly how to win their homesick hearts over.
Dino and Edwin faithfully placed my order and delivered it to LAX, to board a Delta Dash flight into Nagitoches, arrival time 4:30PM. I drove a rental car over to my driver’s hotel and we set off to the airport in his vehicle. He knew his way around especially on the two lane highway heavily trafficked by truckers. Occasionally we had to access the occasional middle passing lane to get to the airport on time. We arrived exactly at 4:30PM, only to find out the package had missed the flight. The next incoming flight from L.A. was 9PM. What were we to do?
I suggested that we find a place to rest and revive, with a glass of good wine and good food. The only place in town was a pseudo gourmet restaurant, whose name escapes me right now. The restaurant did not have a wine list or a license and so they sent us up the road to a liquor store, you know the kind, attached to a gas station. I thought for sure that we would not find a decent bottle of wine in this store. I assumed that the best they had was perhaps jug wine, Mondavi. It turned out that I was wrong; the owner was a collector of fine vintages, for many years and he had his secret stash locked away in a case, way in the back of the store. Even the case was covered with a thin layer of dust and sitting in darkness. He dusted off the handle and presented us with my favorite red, Chateau Cheval Blanc, in my favorite vintage, 1979, at my favorite price $100 ( I would have paid double in Los Angeles) Cheval Blanc was a favorite of mine since it reminded me of the years that I worked as a yacht chef. When I was employed by the owner of the New York Islanders hockey team, as personal chef on the “Islander” yacht, the 1979 Cheval Blanc was our “house red” Those were decadent days. There was so much quality wine flowing that I would use it to make Beef Bourguignon. I would never think of doing that, today.
So we purchased the wine and returned to the restaurant and had a wonderful meal, cannot really remember the food but the wine carried the meal, for sure. We consumed every drop and then headed back to the airport to find our package intact and ready to go. We headed back to the drivers hotel, where my rental car was waiting, only a few country miles from Sally’s house. We made it back to the hotel sometime around 11PM. The entire town seemed to be shut down. It was real quiet on the streets. We transferred the package and I was off.
I must have been pretty tired from the day and in a hurry to get back to Sally’s house. Either that or I was still in an L.A. frame of mind, and didn’t realize that I was driving 50 mph in a 25mph zone. I mean, it didn’t make any sense to me to drive the speed limit since I was the only one on the road, at least I thought so until I saw the flashing red lights behind me, and they weren’t looking to pass.
So many thoughts went through my mind; this was the Deep South, after all... I had envisioned myself in a country jail having to call Sally from a cell at 1 AM in the morning. This would not fare well and I would most likely lose my job.
The country gentleman officer approached my vehicle and asked me for my license and registration. It was then, as a reached into my purse for identification, that I realized that I had not transferred my wallet. At that same moment the officer was asking me if I had anything to drink that evening. The jail cell image became more vivid. Being the honest person that I am, I relied with a sound “yes” I had a glass of wine with dinner, several hours prior .Well ,perhaps I told a little lie since, you and I both know, there was no way that I would leave any red in the bottle, not that wine.
He then asked me to exit the vehicle. As I opened the door, it swung back in my direction, throwing me back into my seat. It was a heavy door and this didn’t look good! I was starting to worry, now. I needed to start talking, and FAST. “I’m sorry, officer, that I was driving over the speed limit, I didn’t realize, I was a little nervous driving on these country roads and I was also late returning from the airport. Obviously I am not from here, I am from L.A. I am the chef for one of the principals of the movie that is being filmed here. I am their private chef. I am returning with a food pick up and need to get back ASAP. My boss has an early shoot and is probably asleep for hours, right now. I really don’t want to tell you who I am working for but I can tell you where the house is, it’s only a few blocks away, city blocks, that is. If I get arrested, I’ll probably get fired.”
The officer, being the country gentleman that he was, escorted me back to the house. Tipped his hat and said farewell. I was so relieved.
The next morning Sally and her family and I were sitting around the breakfast table. Alan, her husband asked me,”So, how do like it here in Natchitoches? Being the honest person that I am, I replied “I can’t wait to get back to Los Angeles; I almost got arrested last night. Sally’s jaw dropped but at least she didn’t have to visit me in jail.
The following day we had the cast party at the house. Dolly Parton arrived with her guitar on her shoulder, ready to play for the small group. It was a really nice group of professionals, Sam Shepard, Tom Skerritt, Shirley MacLaine, Olympia Dukakis, and Dylan McDermott. I found Julia Roberts and Daryl Hannah, quietly gathered in conversation by the buffet area, away from the crowd.
We served a great Italian/California fresh menu on pre Civil War Sterling Silver trays. The dinner was a success, and the following day, I returned to Los Angeles. Job well done!
June
Last night, over dinner with my husband, we were talking about the Deep South. He asked me, over a bowl of sizzling rice soup, if I had ever been to Mississippi. I remembered, while working for Sally Field as her personal chef, traveling to Natchitoches for one week, an invitation from Sally to cook for the cast of Steel Magnolias. I took the invitation, hesitantly even though I had no desire to go to Mid-Mississippi; this was not New Orleans by any stretch of the imagination.
I arrived on a 100 degree 75% humidity, summer day, the air as thick as molasses. A driver picked me up at the airport and delivered me to a large Antebellum home on the outskirts of town, near where the crew was filming. I checked into my room and then jumped into a rental car provided by Sally, to explore the food markets in the area. . I needed to design a menu based on availability. The dinner party for twenty plus guests, was three days away. The cast was complaining that the food resources were very limited. They had enough crayfish to last them a lifetime and wanted fresh ocean fish, in addition to real cheese. I realized, after the visit to the local Wal-Mart and the Louisiana meat pie shop that I would have to buy my staples in Los Angeles and have them shipped to me, by Delta Dash, within hours.
I had my friend Dino Colu an Italian food Purveyor from San Pedro, Ca. and a private chef colleague, Edwin Saks, put an order together, of fresh Ricotta cheese, Salmon, Parmigiana Reggiano, Semolina Flour for Gnocchi, Galbani Mascarpone. There would be no faux lasagna made here with cottage cheese and dried Italian grated cheese. Not at this dinner with guests such as Sam Shepard, Julia Roberts, Daryl Hannah, Shirley McLain, Dolly Parton. My reputation was on the line and I knew exactly how to win their homesick hearts over.
Dino and Edwin faithfully placed my order and delivered it to LAX, to board a Delta Dash flight into Nagitoches, arrival time 4:30PM. I drove a rental car over to my driver’s hotel and we set off to the airport in his vehicle. He knew his way around especially on the two lane highway heavily trafficked by truckers. Occasionally we had to access the occasional middle passing lane to get to the airport on time. We arrived exactly at 4:30PM, only to find out the package had missed the flight. The next incoming flight from L.A. was 9PM. What were we to do?
I suggested that we find a place to rest and revive, with a glass of good wine and good food. The only place in town was a pseudo gourmet restaurant, whose name escapes me right now. The restaurant did not have a wine list or a license and so they sent us up the road to a liquor store, you know the kind, attached to a gas station. I thought for sure that we would not find a decent bottle of wine in this store. I assumed that the best they had was perhaps jug wine, Mondavi. It turned out that I was wrong; the owner was a collector of fine vintages, for many years and he had his secret stash locked away in a case, way in the back of the store. Even the case was covered with a thin layer of dust and sitting in darkness. He dusted off the handle and presented us with my favorite red, Chateau Cheval Blanc, in my favorite vintage, 1979, at my favorite price $100 ( I would have paid double in Los Angeles) Cheval Blanc was a favorite of mine since it reminded me of the years that I worked as a yacht chef. When I was employed by the owner of the New York Islanders hockey team, as personal chef on the “Islander” yacht, the 1979 Cheval Blanc was our “house red” Those were decadent days. There was so much quality wine flowing that I would use it to make Beef Bourguignon. I would never think of doing that, today.
So we purchased the wine and returned to the restaurant and had a wonderful meal, cannot really remember the food but the wine carried the meal, for sure. We consumed every drop and then headed back to the airport to find our package intact and ready to go. We headed back to the drivers hotel, where my rental car was waiting, only a few country miles from Sally’s house. We made it back to the hotel sometime around 11PM. The entire town seemed to be shut down. It was real quiet on the streets. We transferred the package and I was off.
I must have been pretty tired from the day and in a hurry to get back to Sally’s house. Either that or I was still in an L.A. frame of mind, and didn’t realize that I was driving 50 mph in a 25mph zone. I mean, it didn’t make any sense to me to drive the speed limit since I was the only one on the road, at least I thought so until I saw the flashing red lights behind me, and they weren’t looking to pass.
So many thoughts went through my mind; this was the Deep South, after all... I had envisioned myself in a country jail having to call Sally from a cell at 1 AM in the morning. This would not fare well and I would most likely lose my job.
The country gentleman officer approached my vehicle and asked me for my license and registration. It was then, as a reached into my purse for identification, that I realized that I had not transferred my wallet. At that same moment the officer was asking me if I had anything to drink that evening. The jail cell image became more vivid. Being the honest person that I am, I relied with a sound “yes” I had a glass of wine with dinner, several hours prior .Well ,perhaps I told a little lie since, you and I both know, there was no way that I would leave any red in the bottle, not that wine.
He then asked me to exit the vehicle. As I opened the door, it swung back in my direction, throwing me back into my seat. It was a heavy door and this didn’t look good! I was starting to worry, now. I needed to start talking, and FAST. “I’m sorry, officer, that I was driving over the speed limit, I didn’t realize, I was a little nervous driving on these country roads and I was also late returning from the airport. Obviously I am not from here, I am from L.A. I am the chef for one of the principals of the movie that is being filmed here. I am their private chef. I am returning with a food pick up and need to get back ASAP. My boss has an early shoot and is probably asleep for hours, right now. I really don’t want to tell you who I am working for but I can tell you where the house is, it’s only a few blocks away, city blocks, that is. If I get arrested, I’ll probably get fired.”
The officer, being the country gentleman that he was, escorted me back to the house. Tipped his hat and said farewell. I was so relieved.
The next morning Sally and her family and I were sitting around the breakfast table. Alan, her husband asked me,”So, how do like it here in Natchitoches? Being the honest person that I am, I replied “I can’t wait to get back to Los Angeles; I almost got arrested last night. Sally’s jaw dropped but at least she didn’t have to visit me in jail.
The following day we had the cast party at the house. Dolly Parton arrived with her guitar on her shoulder, ready to play for the small group. It was a really nice group of professionals, Sam Shepard, Tom Skerritt, Shirley MacLaine, Olympia Dukakis, and Dylan McDermott. I found Julia Roberts and Daryl Hannah, quietly gathered in conversation by the buffet area, away from the crowd.
We served a great Italian/California fresh menu on pre Civil War Sterling Silver trays. The dinner was a success, and the following day, I returned to Los Angeles. Job well done!
June
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Private Chef Profile
Private chefs are not lazy people. As a matter of fact, the general belief is that we are all masochists. For a private chef, physical and emotional endurance are the order of the day. One must thrive on the stress of deadlines, as we are always “chasing the clock” to be on time for the meal. Always up for the challenge, with a strong will (like a bull terrier - able to take a blow without flinching an eyelid), we strive for perfection with attention to detail.
We are passionate about food and have an immense desire to please everyone by way of the palate. We are natural born caterers. We are well-rounded in our knowledge about cuisines of the world, which enables us to “Cook On Demand.” The best among also have a good eye for presentation. We must work swiftly and skillfully in the kitchen and clean as we go, as we endeavor to create an atmosphere of confidence and experience.
Private chefs tend to be lone wolves, often working alone. To do our best work, we must be 100% focused in almost. We are an independent and hardworking clan, and no one can take that away from us.
*Cooking on Demand” is a term that I coined back in 1989 while working for Al Pacino. I realized back then that it is all about pleasing the client's needs - not my own as a culinary artist. The private chef is hired to provide a service - an intimate personal service. The degree that we are able to do this in a seemingly effortless manner, will predict the degree of our success.
Private chefs are not lazy people. As a matter of fact, the general belief is that we are all masochists. For a private chef, physical and emotional endurance are the order of the day. One must thrive on the stress of deadlines, as we are always “chasing the clock” to be on time for the meal. Always up for the challenge, with a strong will (like a bull terrier - able to take a blow without flinching an eyelid), we strive for perfection with attention to detail.
We are passionate about food and have an immense desire to please everyone by way of the palate. We are natural born caterers. We are well-rounded in our knowledge about cuisines of the world, which enables us to “Cook On Demand.” The best among also have a good eye for presentation. We must work swiftly and skillfully in the kitchen and clean as we go, as we endeavor to create an atmosphere of confidence and experience.
Private chefs tend to be lone wolves, often working alone. To do our best work, we must be 100% focused in almost. We are an independent and hardworking clan, and no one can take that away from us.
*Cooking on Demand” is a term that I coined back in 1989 while working for Al Pacino. I realized back then that it is all about pleasing the client's needs - not my own as a culinary artist. The private chef is hired to provide a service - an intimate personal service. The degree that we are able to do this in a seemingly effortless manner, will predict the degree of our success.
Friday, July 3, 2009
A few introductory words...
I am very excited to start this blog. Over the past several months, I have been approached by many aspiring private chefs with questions as to the "in's and out's" of the business, particularly when it comes to servicing high-profile celebrities and CEO's. Their questions range from "Where do I purchase high quality clean ingredients?" - to - "How do I design a menu 'on the fly' - to "How do I negotiate for the job?"
Of course, aspiring private chefs are also keen to develop their repertoire. With that in mind, I will also be including celebrity-tested recipes.
Over the course of my 25+ years of experience as a private chef, I have acquired an insider's perspective - which I know will be helpful to those who aspire to achieve success. With the right approach and tools, the work of a private chef not only be a means of expressing one's culinary creativity, but will also provide a lucrative income.
Of course, aspiring private chefs are also keen to develop their repertoire. With that in mind, I will also be including celebrity-tested recipes.
Over the course of my 25+ years of experience as a private chef, I have acquired an insider's perspective - which I know will be helpful to those who aspire to achieve success. With the right approach and tools, the work of a private chef not only be a means of expressing one's culinary creativity, but will also provide a lucrative income.
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