Kitchen Duty

Here’s a little glimpse into my kitchen. 
I start every dish I’m making all at once. Every ingredient, every mixing bowl, every dirty plate reproduces so rapidly on my counters that before you know it I’m assembling a cheese tray on top of my dryer. 
My mise en place stinks. That’s a French term, which I loosely translate as “put your sh*t away as you go.” I choose instead to follow my own culinary philosophy, which is “don’t clean up, my husband will do it later!”
I talk way too much. Once guests arrive and I start running my mouth, one of two things happens. Either I’m so distracted that one hour of work turns into three, or I make ruinous menu mistakes. Like the time I used baking soda instead of cornstarch to thicken a vinegar-based gravy, and ended up with a pot roast that tasted like a fourth-grade science project.
So when I had the opportunity to be Chef for the Day at the Culinary Vegetable Institute (CVI) in Milan, Ohio, I figured it might break me of such kitchen quirks. I’d get to see how the pros did things, which I was pretty sure didn’t involve prepping food on a dryer.
CVI is food’s equivalent of the Chautauqua Institution. It’s owned by the Jones family, who also operate The Chef’s Garden, a family farm that ships produce directly to restaurants around the world. CVI attracts everyday foodies, culinary students and locally and nationally known chefs to cook, learn and collaborate. Nearly all produce is plucked from The Chef’s Garden down the road to be used immediately at CVI. 
Chef for a Day is part of CVI’s monthly Earth to Table event, a one-of-a-kind dinner directed by guest chefs using produce from The Chef’s Garden. For $350, the chef wannabes tag along with real chefs and help with the food prep. Participants can choose to dine as one of the evening’s 60-odd guests or — as I did — remain in the kitchen during dinner and eat privately with the chefs afterward. 
Arriving at 10 on a Saturday morning, I’m ushered into the Oz of all kitchens, an enormous room of glittering stainless steel surfaces and a hustling crew of chefs who are already at work and have been since the previous morning. 
I’m placed under the direction of two guest head chefs. Erica Wides is based in Brooklyn, N.Y., and has her own show, “Let’s Get Real,” on the Heritage Radio Network. Beej Flamolz is a personal chef with his own catering company in Baltimore. They’ve collaborated on a five-course menu that includes such delectables as heirloom beet and ricotta gnocchi, braised beef cheeks with a smoked beer reduction, and heirloom parsnip cake with roasted white chocolate ganache. 
I am one of two novices in a kitchen team of 10, which includes CVI’s executive chef Carl Swanbeck, Cleveland-based food stylist Heidi Robb and students Joe Bodine and Shannon Gerasimchik from the Columbus Culinary Institute. 
I learn one of their tricks right away — prep everything in advance. Those five courses — plus three passed appetizers — require nearly 40 different culinary elements. Every element is plugged into a detailed to-do list and scheduled for completion throughout Friday and Saturday. 
Friday’s list includes “rub lamb,” “cook pancetta” and “gnocchi —roll + freeze.” On Saturday: “roast root veg,” “blood OJ vin” and “sear lamb.” A majority of the ingredients are local, and as many as possible are harvested that day from The Chef’s Garden. 
I’m issued an apron, a knife, a cutting board and a set of tasks. I pick apart the tiniest florets of purple cauliflower, which will be pickled and served with an heirloom cauliflower “risotto.” I grate four-year-aged white cheddar to be included in pâte à choux, a pastry dough that will become a ring of piped table breads (see recipe on page XX). I juice blood oranges for pecorino blood orange vinaigrette. I stir boiling heavy cream into warm white chocolate chips to create the ganache. Other than having to redo the florets to make them smaller, I didn’t botch a thing. 
This is no cooking class. No one’s at your elbow teaching basic knife skills, nor are they expounding on the differences between velouté and béchamel. It’s more like on-the-job training for Food Network addicts. I’ve stepped behind the magician’s curtain, watching an assemblage of largely ordinary ingredients be transformed by these chefs’ creative vision. 
The day progresses, and I’m expecting the stress level to rise. The guests will arrive in just three hours, then two, then one. It’s that run-up to dinner when I usually have every dish cooking at the same time, in a mad dash to be sure everything’s ready at the same moment. 
Not here. After two days of prep work, the kitchen settles into a focused calm. Guests arrive, servers take their places, and the kitchen  transforms into an assembly line. Each chef assumes a spot at a long silver counter, and together they build each dish, element by element, before servers whisk it away. 
The night races by, and then it’s over. The guests leave, the tables are cleared, and the chefs finally sit together for wine, food and the kind of jaunty conversation that follows a great collaborative achievement. The braised beef cheek melts in my mouth, and the heirloom beet and ricotta gnocchi are tidbits of creamy goodness. I’m inspired by the creativity I’ve just witnessed and the temporary illusion that I was part of the team. 
I head home at 10:30 p.m. with sore feet, a full belly and new resolve to break my bad culinary habits. I have a head packed with tricks I can put to use in my own kitchen. 
Now if only I could get the dishwasher to come home with me too.

Three Techniques to Learn from the Pros

1. Make a to-do list. This meal’s to-do list was sketched on a large whiteboard, keeping everyone on track. Go through each of your evening’s recipes, break them down into individual tasks and post them in your kitchen. 
2. Get cookie sheets. Lots of them. At CVI, food was staged on parchment-covered cookie sheets and stored on 6-foot-tall racks. You might not have room for racks, but the trays are a good way to set aside what’s done and keep your counters clear. 
3. Add tweezers to your kitchen tools. When adding tiny micro-greens to the top of an appetizer, fingers just aren’t dextrous enough. These chefs pulled out tweezers to perfectly place garnishes. 



Want to Cook?
The Culinary Vegetable Institute offers monthly opportunities to be a chef for a day at their Earth to Table dinners. Upcoming guest head chefs include “Cook Yourself Sexy!” author Candace Kumai and Jonathon Sawyer from the Greenhouse Tavern in Cleveland. $350 per person. 

Want to Eat?
You can attend Earth to Table dinners without lifting more than a fork. $75 per person, plus drinks, tax and gratuity. For more information, visit culinaryvegetableinstitute.com. 

Want to Stay?
Luxury farm stay packages include tours of the farm and accommodations for groups, couples or individuals. You decide whether to cook — or just to dine. Packages start at $600 per person.

If You Go
The Culinary Vegetable Institute
Milan, Ohio
419-499-7500
culinaryvegetableinstitute.com

 
Cheddar Cheese Gougeres
This bread ring was served at the Earth to Table dinner that was planned and prepared by chefs Erica Wides and Beej Flamolz.
1/2 cup ale such as Bass (pour beer slowly into measuring cup; do not measure foam)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Rounded 1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 large eggs
1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese (from a 4-oz. piece)
Special equipment: a pastry bag fitted with a plain 1/2-inch tip; parchment paper or a Silpat baking sheet
 
Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 400 degrees. Combine beer, butter and salt in a 1 1/2- to 2-quart heavy saucepan and bring to a full boil over high heat, stirring until butter is melted. Reduce heat to moderate and add flour all at once, then cook, stirring vigorously with a wooden spoon, until mixture pulls away from side of pan, about 30 seconds. Continue to cook, stirring and flattening batter against bottom of pan, until excess moisture is evaporated and a film forms on bottom of pan. Remove from heat and cool 5 minutes.
  Add eggs 1 at a time, beating well with wooden spoon after each addition. (Batter will appear to separate initially but will become smooth once beaten.) Add cheese and stir until combined well.
  Spoon batter into pastry bag. Line a large baking sheet with a sheet of parchment paper, then secure parchment by piping a dab of batter under each corner. Pipe batter into circles of 1-inch domes, like a wreath shape. The domes should be just barely touching each other. 
  Bake until puffed, golden and crisp, about 20 to 25 minutes. Cool slightly before serving.