R&D Days

Roasted Beet Tartare with goat cheese, and cured egg yolk

“Couple pounds of beets, some chive, dill, vinegar, kosher salt, goat cheese and cured eggs shaved over top.”

Monday’s have been great. We changed up our specials program, which means specials are flowing Tuesday-Monday every week. This gives me an entire dead Monday to work on prototype specials for the upcoming week(s).

Last week I put about 40 egg yolks into a sugar and kosher salt cure. I had absolutely zero idea what I would be using them for. I was casually perusing google images when I stumbled up a picture of a beef tartare today and thought “Well how can we change this up?” About twenty minutes later I cranked that Beet tartare out.

Cured egg yolks, headed into the oven to dry.

Couple pounds of beets, some chive, dill, vinegar, kosher salt, goat cheese and cured eggs shaved over top. Packed in a ring mold, and plates in a large pasta bowl. Staff loved it, even those who generally aren’t easy to please seemed impressed.

The cured egg yolks however were where the fun was for me. Such an interesting taste and texture, a week in the cure and they came out looking almost like dried apricots, and were just as squishy. Once I dried them in the oven they had the consistency of a hard cheese, it was like umami Parmesan. “Umarmasean” if you will.

Meanwhile, Chris cranked out his Cherry Berry Sour BBQ sauce. He took some of the Berry Sour beer we have on right now, cooked some cherries down, and blended it with his BBQ sauce. It’s absolutely heavenly.

I mean seriously, I’m a wing snob. I’m from Buffalo, they are their own food group out here. I’ve had the best, and the worst wings out there. I can confidently tell you these rank amongst the top three BBQ wings I have ever had in my life.

“Our menu is pretty good, and it is large enough, but it gets stale for the regulars.”

These R&D days are great for another reason though. We spend our entire weekend on the line getting killed. Hustling. Moving. Cooking for volume. It’s nice to have a day to kind of coast, and come up with something our guests can be excited about.

Our menu is pretty good, and it is large enough, but it gets stale for the regulars. These specials give them a little break from the usual suspects. Continuing to give them something ever changing, and incorporating the beer has been great, and very well received.

Pickle monster! Note the bar olive eyes. Scary!

It’s been nice to get so creative, and frankly a little fancy. We’ve been putting out some food lately that you wouldn’t expect to see in a brewery. That has also been guest feedback too “I wouldn’t expect to get something like this in a brewery! This is great!” It’s been nice to hear.

“It’s not a warning we’re likely to heed.”

It’s also nice, because on a slower day of R&D we can have a little fun. We made this pickle monster when one of the service managers ordered a burger with “no bun, extra pickles.”

Apparently she hadn’t learned from the time we filled her French Onion soup with Kosher dills, that ordering extra pickles is a dicey proposition at best… Once she recovered from the initial shock of the terrifying monster, she saw our humor, but immediately and aggressively ate the eyes as a warning against messing with her food in the future.

It’s not a warning we’re likely to heed.

Doing the things I’ve never done

Buffalo wing ravioli with arabbiata sauce

“It’s been great, we’ve talked for years about opening our own place and running it together. And to be honest I was always unsure we could do it.”

Since we hired an Assistant Kitchen Manager it has freed me up to be able to focus on creativity in the kitchen again. It helps that the AKM is one of my oldest, and most trusted friends. It also helps that he’s been pushing me to be better, and encouraging of the creativity that was lacking before we promoted him. We have been collaborating on specials for a couple of months now. They’ve become better, tighter, and more refined by the week.

It’s been great, we’ve talked for years about opening our own place and running it together. And to be honest I was always unsure we could do it. Our relationship is, well, let’s just call it codependent high functioning alcoholics. We tend to bring our the worst, and simultaneously the best in one another. I was curious how my “quitting drinking” dynamic was going to play out with us.

Honestly he’s been wildly more supportive than I expected. I’m actually kind of upset with myself that would even come as a surprise to me. He’s stood behind every decision I’ve made, right, wrong, or indifferent for the last fifteen years. And to be fair, he’s always spoken up when I’ve crossed a line.

House made smoked Canadian bacon, with coffee stout maple glaze

This week we really out did our previous levels fancy. We made home made Canadian bacon, with a coffee stout maple glaze. This was part of an Eggs Benedict special. We also did a smoke salmon dish with dill cream cheese, minced shallot, capers, and tobiko. Both were delicious. Both were wildly unexpected choices for a brewery.

L to R: a play on Bagels and Lox, Eggs Benedict with house smoked Canadian bacon, and session IPA hollandaise, and the house smoked Canadian bacon being sliced

We then got, really cocky and decided to order a pasta roller. We did this knowing full well neither of us had EVER made pasta, let alone ravioli. It was an experience to say the least.

“Finally, no matter what Amazon suggests, do NOT buy a die mold that ‘makes and cuts twelve perfect ravioli.’ It doesn’t. It sucks.”

First, I don’t care what anyone says, making the dough is a difficult process, especially if you have never done it. Rolling the pasta was complicated, especially since the dough was too wet, and not flowered anywhere near as well as it should have been. Finally, no matter what Amazon suggests, do NOT buy a die mold that “makes and cuts twelve perfect ravioli.”

It doesn’t. It sucks. And it was thankfully, only $14.

In spite of everything we had going against us, the ravioli turned out half way decent. The pasta was a little too thick, but the texture was good, they held together, and cooked easily. Erring on the side of caution however, we decided to push the ravioli special back a week or two (at least) until we could get some practice, and ensure cranking out a couple hundred of them wouldn’t be a nightmare.

Most importantly, my boss, and the ownership have been thrilled with the quality, and sophistication of not only the specials, but food in general. Thankfully, we have a solid crew that can execute these crazy specials, while not missing a beat on their other day to day duties.

However, that crew has seen some change. And barring a successful full court press allowing me to convince him otherwise, I’m probably going to lose my number one line cook. Im not going to lie, it would be absolutely devastating.

We’re sitting down tomorrow, and hopefully we can reach an agreement. Otherwise someone is going to have to step up in a big way. And I’m going to need to find a unicorn employee.

I’m not going to lie, it’s going to suck. The guy is a rockstar, he can run the line by himself, and doesn’t miss a beat. I’m praying I can convince him to stay.

At the end of the day though, if it’s his time to move on, then I don’t want to force him into staying. He’ll wind up resenting me, and the business, and wind up leaving anyways. I guess I’ll know tomorrow.

Impact of “The Lifestyle” on our Loved Ones

Ten pounds of stuff, in a three pound knife roll…

“My first marriage ended in divorce, I put part of that on the job.”

I’ve spent the last seventeen years busting my ass in a restaurant. An impressive feat considering that I’m only 33. I’ve worked back of house, front of house, and have done every job in each area. I’m used to it, the hours, the schedule, the fact that I may as well have a cot somewhere in the restaurant, or a hammock hanging where my desk is.

My first marriage ended in divorce, I put part of that on the job. Part of it is on my ex, a lot of it is on the fact that we never should’ve been together in the first place. She was a wreck, I was an enabler, and we made better drinking partners than we did spouses.

I’m engaged now (six years later) with a new house on the way, and truthfully I’m terrified. My wife to be and I have been together nearly four years, and have both been previously married.

She’s great, fantastic really, but the lifestyle does make things extremely difficult. She works a 9-5, Monday through Friday job. At first she couldn’t comprehend that someone would have to stay past their out time. Let alone four or five hours. She’s become more accepting of it, and does understand it a bit more. But it still tends to be a sticking point for her.

It’s a tough, because working in this industry is a sickness. I genuinely LOVE my job, and my career path. I mean there are times I hang around the restaurant and work on specials, for two weeks out, run the expo window, or hop onto a station, not because it’s necessarily needed, but because I want to. Again, I realize I’m a sick man.

How do I rationalize to someone I’m going to spend the rest of my life with (God willing) that there are days I’d rather work on food costing, menu planning, or simply cook, more than I want to come home and sit on the couch? It’s made easier by the fact that most days I am coming home to a dark house with a sleeping dog and better half.

That being said, there are some benefits to my loved ones. First, I always have top rate beer, wind, and liquor on hand. Holidays and parties are a big to do in my family, and often hosted at our house. Because of my skill set, and what I spend 50+ hours a week doing, our guests tend to eat exceedingly well.

On top of of this, I do my better half’s meal prep for half the cost, twice the food, and a hell of a lot better tasting than she can get from a service. And, I generally get it done fairly quick, freeing up some time for a nap on my day off.

“I ultimately don’t know how long my new found self control is going to last. That terrifies me.”

The biggest snag to the family, and relationships however, is the ease of access, and excess opportunity for mass consumption of alcohol. I’ve recently had to confront myself with some realities surrounding this:

I’m not 20 anymore, there is nothing awesome about a man hurtling towards middle age stumbling around a bar with his friends at 2:30 in the morning.
I’m a dick sober, so I tend to be an über schwanz when I’m drunk. Add a propensity for being defensive and argumentative, and you have the perfect recipe for alienating your fiancée (she is really a patient saint, and I don’t deserve her in the least bit…)
The older I get, the worse my tolerance is. Especially after working all day, without having an actual meal (apparently four Red Bull, window fries here and there, and three dead chicken wings over a twelve hour period do not constitute a “meal.” No matter how much I protest otherwise.)
My biggest downfall is a combination of alcohol and low impulse control. This is exacerbated by slamming IPAs, Rumpleminz, and Jameson like they were a Gatorade after a twenty mile run.
I ultimately don’t know how long my new found self control is going to last. That terrifies me.

I’m two weeks dry, and as much as I hate to admit it (I’m a stereotypical restaurant lifer, I absolutely love to drink, and be drunk) I FEEL 100 times better. I’m fresher, sharper, and don’t wake up feeling like every cell in my body has gained sentience, and begun forming an orderly line to have their turn at punching me in the face. So that’s a plus.

“It’s a tough life for us, so imagine the toll it takes on our loved ones. If you have people who have stuck by you through this, take the time to thank them, let them know how appreciated they are, and that you love them.”

One thing I have realized (to cap this all off) is that being a restaurant lifer is less of a career, and more of a lifestyle. Long hours, low pay, high stress, taxing demands on your body and mind, physical and mental exhaustion, and addictive personality are all hallmarks of it. It’s a tough life for us, so imagine the toll it takes on our loved ones. If you have people who have stuck by you through this, take the time to thank them, let them know how appreciated they are, and that you love them.

Then, tell them to stop being so loud getting ready every morning when you’re trying to sleep. Unless they want a potato peeler buried in their foot. We had a long service, then came home, and binge watched Hulu, because we can’t turn our brains off after thinking 100 miles a minute all day.