A Taste of the Real Restaurant World
September 1st, 2010
This past weekend I was in charge of the food for a fundraiser dinner for the Flatlander Fund. You can read more about the Flatlander Fund on its site, or in recent entries about community kitchens or planning for the dinner on this blog. After a very short planning period, only advertising on Facebook, Twitter, and a few email lists, we had sold almost all the tickets.
In the days leading up to the event, I was testing or re-testing recipes in any spare moments I could gather. I had to come up with produce orders, shopping lists, and coordinate with some of the other people who would be cooking with me. I just prayed that I remembered everything.
Many of the components of the meal were things that I’ve cooked a number of times and was confident about their success. Some were items that I’d only cooked small portions of, and would have to make adjustments for the scale or the cooking equipment available for the event. Let me tell you, I lost a lot of sleep over empanadas and flan last week.
Saturday came, and I picked up boxes and boxes of fresh produce from our local vendors. Much of the quality of the food we ended up serving was a direct result of the ingredients that went into it. Blue Moon Farm, Moore Family Farm, Nature’s Finest, Kilgus Dairy, Tiny Greens, Prairie Fruits Farm, and that guy I bought the watermelon from (SE corner of the market… anyone know?), all had top-notch products that we used for this meal. Much of this and the rest of the ingredients (purchased at Common Ground Food Coop) was organic.
Once we started cooking (in the generously donated kitchen space at Prairie Fruits Farm), we in some small way, got a little closer to the leagues of many talented, qualified, professional chefs that have cooked there before us in their Dinners on the Farm series. None of us really had restaurant cooking experience, but our passion and talents kept us on the right path. I think we all learned a lot from that experience.
I learned that Crocs really are pretty comfortable to stand in for hours in a kitchen. I learned that kitchens get damn hot, you can’t hear anything under the exhaust hood, and you can never have enough prep space. I learned that restaurant stoves can be quite finicky, and sometimes you find that their knobs are missing, or upside-down, or that sometimes you need to find a lighter to evoke a flame. I learned you can never have enough storage containers for prepped food, and having a prep list goes a long way in keeping you organized. I learned, not surprisingly, that it can take a long time to prepare that food for 40-60 people.
After the hours of cooking on Saturday, then waking up and cooking more on Sunday, we were just about done. When the cooking was over, and everything was packed up to go to the Corkscrew, I think we were all excited to get on with the evening. We unloaded and it seemed like we had almost too much time. As is my (bad) habit, I neglected to take the time to eat much of anything, but I wasn’t feeling it over the excitement of the event. I finally got to spend time at a cutting board, slicing open tomatoes for the tomato caviar and cubing watermelon.
I wore a chef’s coat that I got on Amazon. I almost felt like an impostor, like I was just trying on Dad’s suit coat or something. But in other ways it felt real, like it would help other people see what I’m trying to show them. As I was standing behind the Buvons wine bar, slicing tomatoes and cubing watermelon, multiple people came up and remarked at how I looked like I belonged there, like I was so relaxed–and I was.
Then the volunteers came, so many volunteers! This wonderful group of people who smiled and looked around as though they were just so happy to be helping work at this event. After running around and trying to make sure we had everything, Alisa (chef at Prairie Fruits Farm) helped me pull them over to have a front-of-house meeting. I thanked everyone and started going over the menu. I shared my spark of interest in the food, and they reacted. At this point, I’m in love with this menu. In my mind, I couldn’t help but think of the flaws in some of the dishes, but I couldn’t help but express love for this food. That’s a feeling that I hope I was able to share with the volunteers.
As we were talking, guests started coming in, and we soon needed to start plating the first course. Once we got into service, the next hours were all a fun ride. Everybody did such a great job, I couldn’t stop thanking people and marvelling at how my food (and the dishes of my colleagues) was going out, on plates, into a dining room.
It’s been a dream, really, to serve food to people in this kind of environment. I talked with Dan many times about how I wanted to do a dinner party with plated dishes, but we never got the chance to do it together. Dan inspired me to believe that I could do something like this, that I just need to go for it. I’m so glad that I finally did.
As the desserts were eaten and I went to see my brother in the dining room, I saw smiles on people’s faces, and heard the chatter of a few dozen conversations. I couldn’t help but feel like I had accomplished something.
I didn’t accomplish it alone, though. So many people were necessary, from Laura, who helped organize the event, to all the people that helped cook (Jason, Kristin, Laurence, Mel, Patrick, Shameem), the volunteers, too many to name them all but they all were so wonderful, and of course all the guests–without whom there would be no event at all. I thanked them all many times that night, and I mean it.
There will be future events… maybe bigger, maybe smaller. I’ll probably cook, but someone else will probably take the reins. There are a lot of talented people who are passionate about food in this town. I love that I’m able to be a part of it.
All the pictures in this post are from Justine Bursoni, one of the guests. She has a whole collection of photos from the evening, and I highly recommend you go browse through them. Click through to see an even bigger collection on her Zenfolio.





