A foodie first...a chef second!!
I'm a foodie first...a chef second. Let's make that clear. Unfortunately, I'm a better eater than a cook. I'd rather be in the cool and comfortable other side of the restaurant. I'd rather eat the food than cook the food. I became a chef so I can work closely with food. Food is my passion. I started at a very early age. I cooked really out of necessity and part curiosity. Our yaya (household help) was a good cook.. During summer when we had no school, she prepared a wide array of dishes. On her repertoire she prepared pork liempo, pork chop, chicken, tanigue or tuna steaks. There was only one problem, she prepared it one way....turbo broiled. She could turbobroil the shit out of chicken, pork chop and my personal favorite was the crispy pata. Basic recipe was.to marinate in Knorr and sprinkled with salt and pepper. Cooked to crispy perfection. It was simple. Too simple. That recipe was maybe borne out of sheer lack of creativity and effort. No thinking and also not much washing of pots and pans. Wasdh meat, sprinkle with knorr then place in turbo broiler. It was ok at first but after two weeks and right just before holy week. You'd get sick of it.
That's when I started to cook. I was sick of her food and wanted better food. I had no choice but to learn how to cook. I watched my yaya intently when she cooked. My first dishes were breakfast foods. I fried hotdogs and luncheon meat. I learned how to saute by cooking corned beef and sardines. As my skills became better, I tried more things. I cooked home made pizzas, different kind of spaghettis and tried different things with my early repertoire of ingredients like ham, spam, hotdog and corned beef. I sauteed the hotdogs with onions and added ketchup, worcestershire sauce and sugar to create a more saucy hotdog dish. I fried the spam and ham with sugar to have a crisp sweet coat. A dish that my sister still adored until now. I made spam fried rice with peas, carrots and eggs. I felt that I didnt have to go to the sticky old panciteria in chinatown to eat my favorite yung chow fried rice. I loved the dishes I created. I could probably beat the shit out of the Junior Masterchefs. Hmm. If they had a spam category.
That's when I started to cook. I was sick of her food and wanted better food. I had no choice but to learn how to cook. I watched my yaya intently when she cooked. My first dishes were breakfast foods. I fried hotdogs and luncheon meat. I learned how to saute by cooking corned beef and sardines. As my skills became better, I tried more things. I cooked home made pizzas, different kind of spaghettis and tried different things with my early repertoire of ingredients like ham, spam, hotdog and corned beef. I sauteed the hotdogs with onions and added ketchup, worcestershire sauce and sugar to create a more saucy hotdog dish. I fried the spam and ham with sugar to have a crisp sweet coat. A dish that my sister still adored until now. I made spam fried rice with peas, carrots and eggs. I felt that I didnt have to go to the sticky old panciteria in chinatown to eat my favorite yung chow fried rice. I loved the dishes I created. I could probably beat the shit out of the Junior Masterchefs. Hmm. If they had a spam category.
As I got older I became bolder. I remember clearly how I spent my Saturday mornings. I would wait for my mom who usually would do her marketing chores during saturdays and forage into her goods and see what I can cook for lunch. Every weekend would be like that. The cook would be pissed because by Wednesday I would've cooked all the food that was supposed to be for the whole week. One thing cool was that my mom didn't care. She was very supportive of it. My friends too. As I got into adolescence, I never learned to drink. It just wasnt for me. As we all know, high school was the time for parties and all night drinking. In order for me not be left out during the "inuman's" or drinking sessions, I cooked different “pulutans” or drinking food. I learned how to make kilawin, marinated raw fish. I cooked gambas, mushroom ala jillo, lechon kawali, cripy pata and other kinds of drinking food. My friends loved it. So instead of going to bars my friends would rather just stay at our house and drink. And eat a lot too.
Before college, I already asked my parents if I can enroll in a hotel and restaurant school abroad. My parents questioned what would be my career path. We belonged to a family of bankers and corporate professionals. They made me a deal that if I gave them a college diploma first then I could follow this "whim" of being a chef. So I did, I graduated and gave them a diploma. I worked odd jobs for my first two years after graduation. I worked in a credit card company and also sold cars for a European car brand. I was in hell. I wasn't happy. I sucked at all of them. I was fired from work and was sent to the US to find myself. My visa was expiring and it needed to have it stamped to make renewals easier. I was supposed to go to the states and actually try it out. My parents thought it would be good for me to go to the states and try to be independent. We had lot of relatives and family friends my age who tried their hands in "hiding" in the states. Another trip to San Francsico. I was really excited and my head was filled with late nights at strip clubs at Broadway Street, shopping at Gilroy and all day NBA games on TV!!
Little did I know that this trip would change my life forever. On the first weekend of my stay, my relatives brought me to Napa Valley in Northern California. I wasn't really excited about this excursion. I was never into wine and seeing vineyards and wineries were a little too aloof for my taste then. I would’ve rather been at the mall checking out the sale racks at the Banana Rep or Kenneth Cole store or watching the NBA.
I happily trudged along and went with them. After and hour or so after we left, It was obvious that we were in Napa Valley because the barren mountains and the sight of the sea was replaced by acres and acres of vineyards. It was beautiful but it wasn't jaw dropping exciting for me. I wouldn't sleep over it if ever we decided to come back. All that was in my mind was...Where we gonna eat? Lunch at a nice vineyard that also had a picnic ground and a deli. We spent lunch there. After a few hours we decide to go home. Immediately I fell asleep in the car. A few minutes afterward, i was rudely awakened by my cousin. He slowed down and showed me a place just side of the road. It was a sight I would never forget. There was an old huge structure that looked like an old castle or a fortress. In front of the old building was a vegetable garden. In the vegetable garden were people who were picking the fruits and the vegetables. My cousin told me that that place was the Culinary Institute of America and the people who were outside were culinary students. We went inside. I took a peek.the place seemed like a beehive. It was so busy. So exciting. There was a huge mess hall in the middle and all around that were a wave of activities. You can see frantic students in their chef's uniforms running around like chicken with out heads. Chef instructors with their booming voices shouting various instructions. Waiters and servers running around with food trays and drinks almost or in near tears. It was chaos. Amidst all of that, I glanced upon the dinner tables and the food trays. The sights of different colorful and delicious looking dishes were all around. They were magnificent. They were amazing. I was awestruck. Something in me just exploded. It may be cliche but it literally felt like I was struck by lightning. All my feelings of wonder, being lost and doubt was set aside. A rushing wave of emotions came into me. Oh my God!! A chef!!! That's what I wanna be!!
I quickly inquired and asked how much the tuition fee was. It was a fortune. I was pretty sure that my parents couldn't afford it. The tuition was so expensive and I haven't even added my living expenses. When I went home I immediately called my dad overseas. He told me that the tuition in CIA was too expensive. He wasn't also too privy on the idea of mine that he should consider borrowing from the bank, selling the house in Alabang, the cars, the farm in Calatagan and live in a two bedroom for this "idea" of mine to enter culinary school. He was however open for a more affordable option. I spent the next few days in San Francisco inquiring to the different culinary schools. They all cost an arm and a leg. I was devastated. With my tail tucked in, I went back home to Manila. Frustrated and disappointed that I have finally found my calling and still can't do anything about it.
A few days after I arrived we celebrated my nephews birthday in Minggoy's in Magallanes. During the meal, the chef came out and did his courtesy round. He asked if the food was good and if everything was ok. All of a sudden, my dad hollered, "Huy Chef, etong isang anak ko, gusto maging chef, tulungan mo naman!". The chef was suprised. Ask me if I really did want to become a chef. I said yes!!. I was excited that we would hire me right there. He said, "Ah ok, talaga? If you wanna be a chef, there's a new culinary school that opened in Quezon City and maybe you'd like to check it out?"
So I did. My dad agreed sending me to school again. But he did warn me. "If this thing doesn't pan out. You're on your own."
So I entered the world of the culinary arts. I studied culinary arts and I embarked on my journey to chefdom. I finished and gotten myself a Culinary Certificate. I graduated and immediately looked for a job. I consider my self lucky. I didn't start as a plate washer or a kitchen helper. Apparently, my certificate in my culinary school and my knowledge of good english coupled with my computer skills of microsoft word, excel and powerpoint kinda helped me get a leg up on my position. I was able to get demi-chef/chef-de-partie positions.
Before college, I already asked my parents if I can enroll in a hotel and restaurant school abroad. My parents questioned what would be my career path. We belonged to a family of bankers and corporate professionals. They made me a deal that if I gave them a college diploma first then I could follow this "whim" of being a chef. So I did, I graduated and gave them a diploma. I worked odd jobs for my first two years after graduation. I worked in a credit card company and also sold cars for a European car brand. I was in hell. I wasn't happy. I sucked at all of them. I was fired from work and was sent to the US to find myself. My visa was expiring and it needed to have it stamped to make renewals easier. I was supposed to go to the states and actually try it out. My parents thought it would be good for me to go to the states and try to be independent. We had lot of relatives and family friends my age who tried their hands in "hiding" in the states. Another trip to San Francsico. I was really excited and my head was filled with late nights at strip clubs at Broadway Street, shopping at Gilroy and all day NBA games on TV!!
Little did I know that this trip would change my life forever. On the first weekend of my stay, my relatives brought me to Napa Valley in Northern California. I wasn't really excited about this excursion. I was never into wine and seeing vineyards and wineries were a little too aloof for my taste then. I would’ve rather been at the mall checking out the sale racks at the Banana Rep or Kenneth Cole store or watching the NBA.
I happily trudged along and went with them. After and hour or so after we left, It was obvious that we were in Napa Valley because the barren mountains and the sight of the sea was replaced by acres and acres of vineyards. It was beautiful but it wasn't jaw dropping exciting for me. I wouldn't sleep over it if ever we decided to come back. All that was in my mind was...Where we gonna eat? Lunch at a nice vineyard that also had a picnic ground and a deli. We spent lunch there. After a few hours we decide to go home. Immediately I fell asleep in the car. A few minutes afterward, i was rudely awakened by my cousin. He slowed down and showed me a place just side of the road. It was a sight I would never forget. There was an old huge structure that looked like an old castle or a fortress. In front of the old building was a vegetable garden. In the vegetable garden were people who were picking the fruits and the vegetables. My cousin told me that that place was the Culinary Institute of America and the people who were outside were culinary students. We went inside. I took a peek.the place seemed like a beehive. It was so busy. So exciting. There was a huge mess hall in the middle and all around that were a wave of activities. You can see frantic students in their chef's uniforms running around like chicken with out heads. Chef instructors with their booming voices shouting various instructions. Waiters and servers running around with food trays and drinks almost or in near tears. It was chaos. Amidst all of that, I glanced upon the dinner tables and the food trays. The sights of different colorful and delicious looking dishes were all around. They were magnificent. They were amazing. I was awestruck. Something in me just exploded. It may be cliche but it literally felt like I was struck by lightning. All my feelings of wonder, being lost and doubt was set aside. A rushing wave of emotions came into me. Oh my God!! A chef!!! That's what I wanna be!!
I quickly inquired and asked how much the tuition fee was. It was a fortune. I was pretty sure that my parents couldn't afford it. The tuition was so expensive and I haven't even added my living expenses. When I went home I immediately called my dad overseas. He told me that the tuition in CIA was too expensive. He wasn't also too privy on the idea of mine that he should consider borrowing from the bank, selling the house in Alabang, the cars, the farm in Calatagan and live in a two bedroom for this "idea" of mine to enter culinary school. He was however open for a more affordable option. I spent the next few days in San Francisco inquiring to the different culinary schools. They all cost an arm and a leg. I was devastated. With my tail tucked in, I went back home to Manila. Frustrated and disappointed that I have finally found my calling and still can't do anything about it.
A few days after I arrived we celebrated my nephews birthday in Minggoy's in Magallanes. During the meal, the chef came out and did his courtesy round. He asked if the food was good and if everything was ok. All of a sudden, my dad hollered, "Huy Chef, etong isang anak ko, gusto maging chef, tulungan mo naman!". The chef was suprised. Ask me if I really did want to become a chef. I said yes!!. I was excited that we would hire me right there. He said, "Ah ok, talaga? If you wanna be a chef, there's a new culinary school that opened in Quezon City and maybe you'd like to check it out?"
So I did. My dad agreed sending me to school again. But he did warn me. "If this thing doesn't pan out. You're on your own."
So I entered the world of the culinary arts. I studied culinary arts and I embarked on my journey to chefdom. I finished and gotten myself a Culinary Certificate. I graduated and immediately looked for a job. I consider my self lucky. I didn't start as a plate washer or a kitchen helper. Apparently, my certificate in my culinary school and my knowledge of good english coupled with my computer skills of microsoft word, excel and powerpoint kinda helped me get a leg up on my position. I was able to get demi-chef/chef-de-partie positions.
My first job 12 years ago was at a posh Country Club in Makati, I was the only college educated chef. It was hard to be the so called "rich kid" in the work place. I had all the theoretical know-how but none of the hands on experience. I must say that what I learned in Culinary school is only 5% of what I actually i applied to my actual work. My co-workers and my staff really gave me shit for that. I knew all the paperworks but couldn't cook for shit. It was easy to cook for 5 or 6 people at one time..but to cook for dozens and hundreds of people? That was completely different. My collegues and my staff gave me shit for that. I burnt sauces, I served raw or uncooked meat. It was fucked up. They would make fun of me and mock me. There were times that my confrontations with the staff would almost take a turn for a fistfight!! Had shouting matches with chefs, waiters and even the purchasers. So many times i wanted to quit. There were times i would be at the walk-in chiller crying or in tears because of all the shit I got. I never showed it though. I braved all through it. I toughened up. Wore my big man panties all the time. I worked hard. Stayed in the kitchen the longest. I worked 15 hour days regularly. I was never late and absent for two years. I watched, observed and studied what all the veteran chefs were doing. I befriended everybody. From the lowly breakfast egg omelette chef, I learned how to cook a fluffy omelette with chopsticks. From the pantry hamburger chef, I learned how to grill a burger, make a sandwich and deep fry French fries all at the same time. From the Japanese chef (may his soul rest in peace), I learned how to make a crunchy but light tempura and finally from the banquet chefs, I learned how to cook kalderata, pata tim and spaghetti sauce by the "kawa"!. I was like a sponge. Eventually, all my hard worked paid off. Most importantly, I slowly but surely learned how to cook.I slowly standardized the recipes and made manuals for the cooks. I made myself indispensable. Not only did I learn how to cook but was also organized enough to have a well run kitchen. So I left that country club, trained in Hawaii to open an American concept restaurant in Makati. I also became an executive chef for a upper class hospital in Ortigas. I also became a full-time culinary professor. I also opened up two restos in Makati which I’m very happy that the other one is still doing ok after 4 years. My last stint in a professional kitchen is when I became the Executive Sous Chef for a Hotel in Tagaytay.
Sounds exciting? It was at times. When I was younger, cooking at the “line” was exciting. I would serve 500-1000pax on a weekend night. In the country club and hotel we would serve 1000pax buffets and 700 plated 6 course meals. They were all a “rush”.
Sounds exciting? It was at times. When I was younger, cooking at the “line” was exciting. I would serve 500-1000pax on a weekend night. In the country club and hotel we would serve 1000pax buffets and 700 plated 6 course meals. They were all a “rush”.
It really is exciting and fulfilling. But it really takes a toll on you. You work on holidays. While everyone is spending their holy week, Halloween and Christmas holidays you are grudgingly working. You have to work 12-14 hour days with only one day off a week.
I thought that as you get higher up in a position things will get better. Well the pay did but you spend days weeks or even months not cooking. You spend your days meeting with suppliers. Making special menus for clients. Devising unreal an number of menu cycles for the buffet and special holidays menus for Mother's Day, Father's Day and other commercially advantageous holidays for hotels. This is just the easy part. Attendance problems of the staff. Friction with the Union. The unending arguments/meetings with the F&B Director about food costs and labor costs. Arguments with Banquet Sales Managers on why it is an impossibility to have a Prime Rib Buffet at P1,250 net for their cousin who really wants to get married at the hotel. The kitchen secretary who is asking for a vacation leave on a busy saturday because she has to attend her 4 year olds daughter school program. Things like that just wears you off. It just gets to be cumbersome.
Being a chef is much harder than everyone thinks. I've toiled around in the kitchen for 12 years now. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to be a chef. To cook for hundreds of people and see their faces when they love enjoy the food is priceless. It's really a noble job. Being a chef may seem glamorous because of the new TV shows and Chef-rock-stars like Gordon Ramsay, Jamie Oliver and the hundreds of Iron Chef's/Top Chefs/Master Chefs.
It's really hard work. The environment is harsh. You have to be physically able to do the job. You have to toil the whole day in hot, cramped and often times intolerable working environments. Your patience and tolerance for your co-workers should be saint-like. A great number of your kitchen co-workers are not college graduates and sometimes even not high school graduates. So your mentality is really different. The Executive Chefs are often narcissistic, overbearing and put in plainly assholes.
I don't regret being a chef. It also had its perks. Unlimited access to all kinds of ingredients in the kitchen. I was exposed to all kinds of cuisines. Numerous cuisines made me see all kinds of ingredients and experience different kinds of cooking methods.
With all those, it made me understand the chemistry of food. How different kind of cooking methods affect the ingredients. How a seasoned and skillful chef knows what kind of heat to apply for a particular kind of ingredient. Techniques and methods that are almost never found in cookbooks. Importantly, experience will give you cooking logic. Logic plays a lot into food. Different kinds of logic for different kinds of dishes. A logical cut of beef, a logical sauce, a logical pairing of proteins, a logical starch accompaniment for a protein and a logical pairing of the whole set menu. Not only that, repetition is the key. You should do something repeatedly in order to be an expert. These can only be learned if you've worked in the kitchen. To be able to comment about food or at least be able to authoritatively critique food you must be knowledgeable on what makes a certain food great.
It's really hard work. The environment is harsh. You have to be physically able to do the job. You have to toil the whole day in hot, cramped and often times intolerable working environments. Your patience and tolerance for your co-workers should be saint-like. A great number of your kitchen co-workers are not college graduates and sometimes even not high school graduates. So your mentality is really different. The Executive Chefs are often narcissistic, overbearing and put in plainly assholes.
I don't regret being a chef. It also had its perks. Unlimited access to all kinds of ingredients in the kitchen. I was exposed to all kinds of cuisines. Numerous cuisines made me see all kinds of ingredients and experience different kinds of cooking methods.
With all those, it made me understand the chemistry of food. How different kind of cooking methods affect the ingredients. How a seasoned and skillful chef knows what kind of heat to apply for a particular kind of ingredient. Techniques and methods that are almost never found in cookbooks. Importantly, experience will give you cooking logic. Logic plays a lot into food. Different kinds of logic for different kinds of dishes. A logical cut of beef, a logical sauce, a logical pairing of proteins, a logical starch accompaniment for a protein and a logical pairing of the whole set menu. Not only that, repetition is the key. You should do something repeatedly in order to be an expert. These can only be learned if you've worked in the kitchen. To be able to comment about food or at least be able to authoritatively critique food you must be knowledgeable on what makes a certain food great.
For ex., one shouldn't simply say that a tempura is great because it is crunchy. They should at least have an understanding about what kind of shrimp was used, the doneness of the shrimp, what oil was used, the way it straightens up and doesn't curl, the lightness and the crispness of the batter, the sauce, the overall presentation and of course the value.
I'm done with the bullshit of preparing the food. I've busted my chops and earned my stripes preparing food. Nowadays, I want to be at the other side of the restaurant. Enjoy the food. Savor the texture, taste and the flavor of the food. To finally really enjoy GREAT food.
I'm done with the bullshit of preparing the food. I've busted my chops and earned my stripes preparing food. Nowadays, I want to be at the other side of the restaurant. Enjoy the food. Savor the texture, taste and the flavor of the food. To finally really enjoy GREAT food.
My main objective for this blog is document and praise great food. I eat out 2 to 3 times a week. My wife and I see to it that we try new restaurants and look for really good food.
This blog is to really search and find good food. Outstanding food that is skillfully made and executed perfectly. Exceptional and noteworthy dishes. From street food, carinderia food, hole-in-the-wall restaurants to posh five star hotels. If I find a great dish, I will document it and blog about it.
Let me make this clear. I plan to focus on the food and not on the restaurant. Food comes first. To find amazing and remarkable food and where to get them. I don't intend to focus on the restaurant. I will not critique the menu, the air-condition, the utensils and plate ware, the fucking iced tea, the waiters uniform and the condition of their bathroom. I don't give a fuck or a rats about anything else. If the waiter is smelly and rude, he/she will be eternally forgiven if their food is great. If a restaurant has 100 dishes on their menu and 1 truly remarkable and amazing one, it shall be written about.
This blog will also feature the search aspect of the food quest. How the trip was made in going to these great food finds. The search and the journey for these stand out dishes will be documented. To really give praise to outstanding and praiseworthy dishes. To seek great dishes in the unlikely of places. I don't give a damn where it is. I will search far and wide for these great food finds. If it's good and noteworthy, I will certainly take a pic and write about it.
The quest starts now...
This blog will also feature the search aspect of the food quest. How the trip was made in going to these great food finds. The search and the journey for these stand out dishes will be documented. To really give praise to outstanding and praiseworthy dishes. To seek great dishes in the unlikely of places. I don't give a damn where it is. I will search far and wide for these great food finds. If it's good and noteworthy, I will certainly take a pic and write about it.
The quest starts now...
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