I'll keep this short.
The other day I was notified by a long time employee/friend that he was offered a job making much more money. He told me because he felt guilty being offered the job. He told me he wouldn't leave me because,(I quote)"you made me".
It's been days and I still think about what he said. I am humbled. Truly humbled. I forget sometimes of the impact people can have on other's lives.
Thank you for the reminder. Once again you've taught me another lesson.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sparks Will Be Flying (Originally published March 2009)
My first full time job was cooking at a Victoria Station Station restaurant. It was an upscale boxcar themed National prime rib chain. It was the place that got me hooked on this business. As I've said in the past it wasn't food that got me into chefing it was the actual physical act of cooking that attracted me. Having been an an avid high school athlete I found myself craving the action, energy or adrenalin, if you will. Cooking in a high quality, high volume atmosphere provided that. You had clear goals, a prescribed path, tools and the team to do it. You had a game every night and you got paid to play. You were pushed to the extreme. Three line cooks would serve a thousand covers on a weekend night and three to four hundred during the week. It was a busy place.
Of those thousand or so customers 75% of them are going to have prime rib. They have a choice of four sizes, some with bone, some without and of course how well they like their meat cooked. Needless to say the prime rib carver is going to be a busy guy. Not only does he have to accomplish satisfying the customer he also holds the key to profit and loss. 75% of all revenue goes through this one guy. He has to be good.
We would use the expression "Sparks are going to fly tonight!" when we knew it was going to be busy. "Sparks" was more than fitting for another crazy night at V.S. The term was coined not only for the tempers that would flare on a stressful night but more so for the actual sparks that would fly on the cooks line at the carvers station.
Because of the value of the carvers the company would import experienced prime rib carvers to open up new restaurants and train their replacements. We had a couple guys out of Chicago. Bob Zoufal and John Holland. Man I loved cooking with those guys. Those were the crazy days when we'd dole out the white cross, black beauties or black Cadillacs before the shift to fuel the afterburners during the rush. Not to mention pick us up after a heavy duty night of partying. It was practically a daily event. This is the same era Tony Bourdaine talks about in his book Kitchen Confidential, I can relate, we were all a bunch of crazy pirates that lived for the fast life and cooking. In that order. Despite being hard core partiers Bob and John could slice some beef. Between seven and eight hundred slices on a busy night, each one weighed so the customers watching in the lobby could see the weight. V.S. had an open kitchen and the carver was positioned on the far left on the cooks "line" with a tile wall to his immediate left. We'd carve the PR horizontally slicing from right to left. (For right handers.) The customers would gather and watch us while they were waiting for tables. All 750 slices within a 1/2 ounce of 8,12,22(bone-in) and 32 (bone-in). When John was carving and we'd really get going he would be slicing so fast he would hit the wall with the tip of the knife on his follow through. When the knife hit the wall, sparks would literally fly. Hence the phrase, "sparks are going to fly". The first time I saw it I shit. Johnny just laughed and he would do it occasionally through the night. Coincidentally, when there were the most people watching. Then I noticed the tips. The more often the sparks would fly the more tips we'd make. I wasn't sure what the empty pitcher was for in front of the carvers station, now I do. It was my first lesson in selling the sizzle. Johnny didn't always hit the wall on purpose he would do it by accident too. We cranked out an unbelievable amount of food. When all you have to do is slice and serve 75% of your menu you can serve alot of people real fast.
I started there as a broiler man. I would stand immediately to the carvers right and set up his plates as well as cook all the steaks and expedite the line. It was a chore but I loved it. I touched every plate served and how well we did was dependant on me being focused and in "the zone". Which brings me to Bob. Johnny was an excellent carver but Bob was just fiendishly, savant-like superb. He didn't need to sell the sizzle, he did it the old fashioned way. He earned it. There was always a scale at the carvers station so the customers could see how much the slice weighed. Bob would have the scale completely facing the customer, he couldn't see the scale. He didn't need to. He'd weigh over 700 slices and never look. The customers loved it. 90% he was right on or within a 1/4 ounce. Never more than 1/2. His tip jar was always the fullest. Another thing about Bob was he wasn't physically able to hit that wall with his knife even if he wanted to. He was left handed. He didn't swing towards the wall, he swung.......towards me. My first time working with him he said, "don't worry, I haven't lost a broiler-man yet". He never did get me, came close many times but no matter how fast he was slinging that knife he never cut me. For that I'm most appreciative of his skill.
Over time I became the carver and began to travel the country opening new restaurants and training carvers. I was very good at it and logged over a quarter million pounds cut but I was never as good as Bobby Z. I still had to resort to the sizzle.
Of those thousand or so customers 75% of them are going to have prime rib. They have a choice of four sizes, some with bone, some without and of course how well they like their meat cooked. Needless to say the prime rib carver is going to be a busy guy. Not only does he have to accomplish satisfying the customer he also holds the key to profit and loss. 75% of all revenue goes through this one guy. He has to be good.
We would use the expression "Sparks are going to fly tonight!" when we knew it was going to be busy. "Sparks" was more than fitting for another crazy night at V.S. The term was coined not only for the tempers that would flare on a stressful night but more so for the actual sparks that would fly on the cooks line at the carvers station.
Because of the value of the carvers the company would import experienced prime rib carvers to open up new restaurants and train their replacements. We had a couple guys out of Chicago. Bob Zoufal and John Holland. Man I loved cooking with those guys. Those were the crazy days when we'd dole out the white cross, black beauties or black Cadillacs before the shift to fuel the afterburners during the rush. Not to mention pick us up after a heavy duty night of partying. It was practically a daily event. This is the same era Tony Bourdaine talks about in his book Kitchen Confidential, I can relate, we were all a bunch of crazy pirates that lived for the fast life and cooking. In that order. Despite being hard core partiers Bob and John could slice some beef. Between seven and eight hundred slices on a busy night, each one weighed so the customers watching in the lobby could see the weight. V.S. had an open kitchen and the carver was positioned on the far left on the cooks "line" with a tile wall to his immediate left. We'd carve the PR horizontally slicing from right to left. (For right handers.) The customers would gather and watch us while they were waiting for tables. All 750 slices within a 1/2 ounce of 8,12,22(bone-in) and 32 (bone-in). When John was carving and we'd really get going he would be slicing so fast he would hit the wall with the tip of the knife on his follow through. When the knife hit the wall, sparks would literally fly. Hence the phrase, "sparks are going to fly". The first time I saw it I shit. Johnny just laughed and he would do it occasionally through the night. Coincidentally, when there were the most people watching. Then I noticed the tips. The more often the sparks would fly the more tips we'd make. I wasn't sure what the empty pitcher was for in front of the carvers station, now I do. It was my first lesson in selling the sizzle. Johnny didn't always hit the wall on purpose he would do it by accident too. We cranked out an unbelievable amount of food. When all you have to do is slice and serve 75% of your menu you can serve alot of people real fast.
I started there as a broiler man. I would stand immediately to the carvers right and set up his plates as well as cook all the steaks and expedite the line. It was a chore but I loved it. I touched every plate served and how well we did was dependant on me being focused and in "the zone". Which brings me to Bob. Johnny was an excellent carver but Bob was just fiendishly, savant-like superb. He didn't need to sell the sizzle, he did it the old fashioned way. He earned it. There was always a scale at the carvers station so the customers could see how much the slice weighed. Bob would have the scale completely facing the customer, he couldn't see the scale. He didn't need to. He'd weigh over 700 slices and never look. The customers loved it. 90% he was right on or within a 1/4 ounce. Never more than 1/2. His tip jar was always the fullest. Another thing about Bob was he wasn't physically able to hit that wall with his knife even if he wanted to. He was left handed. He didn't swing towards the wall, he swung.......towards me. My first time working with him he said, "don't worry, I haven't lost a broiler-man yet". He never did get me, came close many times but no matter how fast he was slinging that knife he never cut me. For that I'm most appreciative of his skill.
Over time I became the carver and began to travel the country opening new restaurants and training carvers. I was very good at it and logged over a quarter million pounds cut but I was never as good as Bobby Z. I still had to resort to the sizzle.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
The Boys From The Old Hood (Reprint w/ photos)
I originally published this last June. I found some old photos of my crew and thought I'd include them.
Man aka Johnny aka J Man
J Money aka Jermaine
Dre aka Andre
(Notice the color scheme of the clothing, red and black are prevalent, gang colors. I had to let them wear them because it's all they had. Also note hat tilted to the right. It's the reason today's kids where their hats to the side. To emulate gang culture. Back then, they'd get their ass kicked)
The title of the previus post made me think of these guys. It's a phrase we would use when I was "on". It should read, "On like a chicken bone" but it cannot be pronounced that way. It's "Own like a chicken Bown".
About 15 years ago we opened our first "restaurant". We were leasing a space in a small hotel that consisted of a nicely equipped commercial kitchen and spacious dining room. We used the space primarily for our catering business and only opened the dining room for lunch. One of the reasons we didn't open for dinner was the area had a stigma of being dangerous. The spot was great for a catering kitchen because it was located in the center of the metropolitan area but not so good for dinner business with all the pan-handlers, prostitutes and gang bangers. It was indeed a dangerous neighborhood. My wife and I were intimately familiar with it. We lived less than a mile away in a grand old Victorian we rehabbed, my wife worked in the hood as a community organizer and I was stationed in the neighborhood's firehouse. If I had a fire at my home or business while I was at work at the fire dept. I would have been with the first fire engine at both. As a matter of fact my wife was instructed to call 911 and say there was a fire for any emergency. I would be there in less than two minutes with four other guys.
When we opened the "cafe" it was tough getting help. I think we had five people apply. I hired four. I passed on the homeless guy who asked for money during the interview. I hired Johnny, Jermaine, Andre and Mary. Mary would be the waitress and the boys would be in the kitchen. (I use the term "boys" for all my male kitchen staff.)
Johnny, Jermaine and Andre were all related. Johnny, better known as "Man" was the obvious ring leader and thinker in the group. Jermaine, better known as, "J-Money" was the enforcer, tall, dark and covered in corn rows he was the sterotypical "gangsta". J-Money was living with Man's sister and was her baby's daddy. Andre, better known as "Dre" was Man's younger brother. He was the shy and demure one, lowest member on the totem pole. At least by the hood's standards. Man had held jobs before but the others had not. J-Money had been doing hard time for two felony convictions and Dre was getting disability money for a mysterious ailment.
These guys stayed with me until we moved to our current restaurant 30 miles away. They attempted to make the trek to the boonies when we opened but that didn't last long. Car problems and the law plagued them. In these parts there aren't too many black folks and they tend to draw attention from the local police. The last straw was when their car broke down on the way home and ended up at the "Southbound Saloon". They called the only white guy they knew to rescue them. When they told me where they were I rushed over to get them the hell out of there. The Saloon is redneck central. I wasn't worried about their safety I was worried about the law. No matter what the black dudes weren't coming out on top.
Close to four years those guys had my back. Four years! That's an eternity in their world. We became this weird little "gang". Eventually we hired their cousin Robert. Robert had just gotten out of prison and needed work. We'd been getting busier and I needed a dishwasher. Robert didn't have a nickname. He was just Robert. Not sure why, he was the hardest one of the bunch. He'd been convicted of shooting his brother five times. His brother! We'd work together for 40 hours a week, hang out in the hood after work and I'd see them when I was riding around on the fire truck. It was "our" hood. That's one of the reasons I managed to hang on to these guys for so long. When they went to work it was "the pack" or "gang" going to work. And work was in their hood. It was comfortable and safe for them. And as long as I was with them it was comfortable and safe for me. (Not unlike being on a Fire crew) I could almost sense why the gang mentality exists in the hood. It's that comfort thing. Most of Man's and J-Money's friends that I met and got to know lived in the neighborhood all their life. Most had never been outside of Milwaukee county. The anxiety of poverty, the ghetto, alcohol, the man and violence wears on you and knowing that circle of people you trust will have your back is important.
We never had trouble at our restaurant in the hood and I think a big part of that is that the boys worked there. They were also part of a larger network of "folks" who looked out for each other. They were all members of the Vice Lords. One of the two largest and most violent gangs in Milwaukee. They kept that on the DL when they were around me but I'd notice the pant leg rolled up when they'd get to work etc. They'd remove any colors or "signs" when working. Through their network the other members of the organization new not to mess up a good thing for the brothers. Pan handlers we can deal with, having connections with the real power in the neighborhood was priceless.
I've spoken with Man recently. He's still in the same hood, in the same house with the same family. Except it's grown by two since we last talked. He's been working off and on and Dre still collects social security for that mystery illness. I was relieved to learn that J-Money was in prison. I had previously looked up his criminal record online and noticed it stopped four years ago. That meant he had found God, died or gone to prison. I didn't think he found God. Being a three time loser he'll be gone for a while. It may sound weird but J-Money was a good guy. His basic human characteristics were sound. Sweet as an angel, hard working and loyal as the day is long. I miss that big dude. Unfortunately he had issues when it came to drugs and alcohol. Like many, it turned out to be his down fall.
I feel fortunate to have worked with those guys. They taught me lessons on the most basic levels. I hope they picked up something from me during the time they were with me. I take comfort that during that time none had gone back to jail, none had lost family members to violence, none abused drugs, most established a family foundation and hopefully came away with knowing a middle aged white guy they respectfully dubbed "Dawg" had their back for four years.
One of these warm summer days I'll take a ride up to Waupon and see J-Money. Bet he got fat.
Man aka Johnny aka J Man
J Money aka Jermaine
Dre aka Andre
(Notice the color scheme of the clothing, red and black are prevalent, gang colors. I had to let them wear them because it's all they had. Also note hat tilted to the right. It's the reason today's kids where their hats to the side. To emulate gang culture. Back then, they'd get their ass kicked)
The title of the previus post made me think of these guys. It's a phrase we would use when I was "on". It should read, "On like a chicken bone" but it cannot be pronounced that way. It's "Own like a chicken Bown".
About 15 years ago we opened our first "restaurant". We were leasing a space in a small hotel that consisted of a nicely equipped commercial kitchen and spacious dining room. We used the space primarily for our catering business and only opened the dining room for lunch. One of the reasons we didn't open for dinner was the area had a stigma of being dangerous. The spot was great for a catering kitchen because it was located in the center of the metropolitan area but not so good for dinner business with all the pan-handlers, prostitutes and gang bangers. It was indeed a dangerous neighborhood. My wife and I were intimately familiar with it. We lived less than a mile away in a grand old Victorian we rehabbed, my wife worked in the hood as a community organizer and I was stationed in the neighborhood's firehouse. If I had a fire at my home or business while I was at work at the fire dept. I would have been with the first fire engine at both. As a matter of fact my wife was instructed to call 911 and say there was a fire for any emergency. I would be there in less than two minutes with four other guys.
When we opened the "cafe" it was tough getting help. I think we had five people apply. I hired four. I passed on the homeless guy who asked for money during the interview. I hired Johnny, Jermaine, Andre and Mary. Mary would be the waitress and the boys would be in the kitchen. (I use the term "boys" for all my male kitchen staff.)
Johnny, Jermaine and Andre were all related. Johnny, better known as "Man" was the obvious ring leader and thinker in the group. Jermaine, better known as, "J-Money" was the enforcer, tall, dark and covered in corn rows he was the sterotypical "gangsta". J-Money was living with Man's sister and was her baby's daddy. Andre, better known as "Dre" was Man's younger brother. He was the shy and demure one, lowest member on the totem pole. At least by the hood's standards. Man had held jobs before but the others had not. J-Money had been doing hard time for two felony convictions and Dre was getting disability money for a mysterious ailment.
These guys stayed with me until we moved to our current restaurant 30 miles away. They attempted to make the trek to the boonies when we opened but that didn't last long. Car problems and the law plagued them. In these parts there aren't too many black folks and they tend to draw attention from the local police. The last straw was when their car broke down on the way home and ended up at the "Southbound Saloon". They called the only white guy they knew to rescue them. When they told me where they were I rushed over to get them the hell out of there. The Saloon is redneck central. I wasn't worried about their safety I was worried about the law. No matter what the black dudes weren't coming out on top.
Close to four years those guys had my back. Four years! That's an eternity in their world. We became this weird little "gang". Eventually we hired their cousin Robert. Robert had just gotten out of prison and needed work. We'd been getting busier and I needed a dishwasher. Robert didn't have a nickname. He was just Robert. Not sure why, he was the hardest one of the bunch. He'd been convicted of shooting his brother five times. His brother! We'd work together for 40 hours a week, hang out in the hood after work and I'd see them when I was riding around on the fire truck. It was "our" hood. That's one of the reasons I managed to hang on to these guys for so long. When they went to work it was "the pack" or "gang" going to work. And work was in their hood. It was comfortable and safe for them. And as long as I was with them it was comfortable and safe for me. (Not unlike being on a Fire crew) I could almost sense why the gang mentality exists in the hood. It's that comfort thing. Most of Man's and J-Money's friends that I met and got to know lived in the neighborhood all their life. Most had never been outside of Milwaukee county. The anxiety of poverty, the ghetto, alcohol, the man and violence wears on you and knowing that circle of people you trust will have your back is important.
We never had trouble at our restaurant in the hood and I think a big part of that is that the boys worked there. They were also part of a larger network of "folks" who looked out for each other. They were all members of the Vice Lords. One of the two largest and most violent gangs in Milwaukee. They kept that on the DL when they were around me but I'd notice the pant leg rolled up when they'd get to work etc. They'd remove any colors or "signs" when working. Through their network the other members of the organization new not to mess up a good thing for the brothers. Pan handlers we can deal with, having connections with the real power in the neighborhood was priceless.
I've spoken with Man recently. He's still in the same hood, in the same house with the same family. Except it's grown by two since we last talked. He's been working off and on and Dre still collects social security for that mystery illness. I was relieved to learn that J-Money was in prison. I had previously looked up his criminal record online and noticed it stopped four years ago. That meant he had found God, died or gone to prison. I didn't think he found God. Being a three time loser he'll be gone for a while. It may sound weird but J-Money was a good guy. His basic human characteristics were sound. Sweet as an angel, hard working and loyal as the day is long. I miss that big dude. Unfortunately he had issues when it came to drugs and alcohol. Like many, it turned out to be his down fall.
I feel fortunate to have worked with those guys. They taught me lessons on the most basic levels. I hope they picked up something from me during the time they were with me. I take comfort that during that time none had gone back to jail, none had lost family members to violence, none abused drugs, most established a family foundation and hopefully came away with knowing a middle aged white guy they respectfully dubbed "Dawg" had their back for four years.
One of these warm summer days I'll take a ride up to Waupon and see J-Money. Bet he got fat.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
In the Trenches
I don't watch much TV and am unfamiliar with what's on these days so I'm surfing through the channels and come upon a show called, "Boss Undercover". It's a show where the CEO or President of the company is hired as an entry level employee and discovers what it's like to work in the trenches.
This episode followed the CEO of White Castle as he was hired and trained in the company bakery and pulling shifts in a unit. Bob, (I think) the CEO seemed like a nice guy. White Castle is a family company and Bob is the current family member to run the company. Probably had a privileged upbringing, good college, middle management job upon graduation and then be groomed to lead the company. (For anyone in Racine this story may sound familiar) It literally appeared as though Dave never stepped foot in a unit. He was completely inept at all the tasks he was supposed to perform. In the bakery he was tasked to package the buns. They had to toss 22,000 buns because he couldn't do it properly. I understand a CEO's job isn't packaging buns or working the drive through but you'd think anyone with any smarts could grasp the concepts.
The most interesting part of the show was what Bob discovered while working in a White Castle. He discovered that the people that work there are dedicated, proficient, smart, hard working people. Generally speaking I'd say that covers most restaurant employees. A segment of society that many people look down upon. A close knit group that's foreign to people in the real world. Most restaurant workers are goal oriented who find real life frustrating or unattainable. You sink or swim on your merritts, the purest form of work. There are two kinds of people in this world, restaurant workers and the rest. If I were to build an army I'd recruit restaurant workers. We would crush the rest of the world while they were deciding when to have the meeting. Real life people just seem lazy to me. I also find it very difficult to socialize with anyone who isn't in the business. Not only do they seem lazy to me they seem to think they're owed something, or are above doing what we do. I guess sitting on your ass in an office or cubicle makes people think they're special. Well, I guess they are.............if they tip.
This episode followed the CEO of White Castle as he was hired and trained in the company bakery and pulling shifts in a unit. Bob, (I think) the CEO seemed like a nice guy. White Castle is a family company and Bob is the current family member to run the company. Probably had a privileged upbringing, good college, middle management job upon graduation and then be groomed to lead the company. (For anyone in Racine this story may sound familiar) It literally appeared as though Dave never stepped foot in a unit. He was completely inept at all the tasks he was supposed to perform. In the bakery he was tasked to package the buns. They had to toss 22,000 buns because he couldn't do it properly. I understand a CEO's job isn't packaging buns or working the drive through but you'd think anyone with any smarts could grasp the concepts.
The most interesting part of the show was what Bob discovered while working in a White Castle. He discovered that the people that work there are dedicated, proficient, smart, hard working people. Generally speaking I'd say that covers most restaurant employees. A segment of society that many people look down upon. A close knit group that's foreign to people in the real world. Most restaurant workers are goal oriented who find real life frustrating or unattainable. You sink or swim on your merritts, the purest form of work. There are two kinds of people in this world, restaurant workers and the rest. If I were to build an army I'd recruit restaurant workers. We would crush the rest of the world while they were deciding when to have the meeting. Real life people just seem lazy to me. I also find it very difficult to socialize with anyone who isn't in the business. Not only do they seem lazy to me they seem to think they're owed something, or are above doing what we do. I guess sitting on your ass in an office or cubicle makes people think they're special. Well, I guess they are.............if they tip.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Knifeforums Protoype
Devin Thomas Knifeforum's Prototype
(You can click twice for close-ups)
Mark at Chefknivestogo sent me the Devin Thomas Knifeforums prototype knife to try out and share my thoughts. This knife was conceived and designed by some folks over at the knife forums. This is the prototype of a production knife that shares the qualities of a custom. It is currently in production and will be marketed by chefknivestogo.com. A Madison, Wisconsin based internet knife merchant. The knives are being made by Devin Thomas. A highly skilled Nevada based knife maker. They're referred to as "mid tech" knives. Meaning some of the process is done by other people other than the "bladesmith". The process and standard shape help keep the cost down.
Aesthetically the knife has a serious, no nonsense look to it. The bright hazy finish on the blade contrasting nicely with the dark cocoblo handle. The only ornament on the blade is the simple "Devin" mark. The octagon handle was a pleasant surprise. I prefer "D" handles because most octagons are too small for me. The handle is large and fills my grip nicely. It's also a little taller than most octagons. A very clean and seamless junction between handle and machi as well. The spine, choil and agi are all rounded and smoothed. The look and feel of a custom. The balance point is about a 1/4 inch in front of the machi. The knife weighs in at 232 grams. It has some heft to it and is a sturdy knife. I think the knives's other measurements have been documented on the forums so I won't bother with them for now. The spine tapers to a thin flexible tip and sturdy edge.
I sharpened the knife as usual and gave it a test ride. I have several videos on my youtube channel featuring the knife. (Saltydog55252) I had a feeling this knife was going to have promise. I know Devin makes a killer knife and was confidant this one would be no different. It screamed through a tomato. I posted a video of slicing a potato and immediately after slicing a tomato and it felt no different. That gives me reason to believe edge retention will be excellent. The thicker handle and well balanced blade gave me a feeling of confidence when slicing and dicing. The blade also has enough balls to slice squash. I did a video of slicing the squash much like I did the potato but it got lost in cyber space somewhere. Using the heel portion of the blade I was able to rapidly slice the neck of a butternut squash. The results were almost identical to the potato. Many of the knives qualities remind me of my Kramer, substantial blade and handle, superb fit and finish, strong yet flexible steel and well balanced. They both also get real sharp.
I didn't take part in the discussion or design of the knife because I had no interest in it. So I'm not familiar with the details of the design. For me personally, I'd bring the tip up a little bit. Some features about the cutting edge I really like is the near flat six inches starting at the heel. There is also a secondary straight (relatively) edge about an inch from the tip. A very nice feature. It gives this fairly big knife agility.
Pictured are from top to bottom:
Bob Kramer 240mm (263mm)(W 241g)
Devin Thomas 270mm (?) (232g)
Masamoto 240mm (265mm) (171g)
The steel is AEB-L,(I think) It's a stainless steel.
L to R, Kramer, Masamoto, Thomas.
As far as performance goes, this knife is easily competing with customs costing three to ten times as much. I compared it to two of my best performers (Kramer and Masamoto) and it bested them. Yep, that's right, at this juncture I'm going to have to be honest and say it out performed both my Kramer and Masamoto. Both of which I had sharpened and ready to go for comparisons. My Mizuno wasn't sharp so I didn't compare it. That would have been interesting. It sharpened with no hassles, not leaving much steel behind and obtained a super edge.(see videos)
Botton Line, I'm going to have to get me one of these. Dollar for dollar it may be the best knife I've handled. I understand that's saying a lot.
There's that sweet spot I talked about near the tip.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Wine Dinner Photos
I didn't get the Guinea Hen or the veal. Got distracted by having to serve food.
(Click photo to zoom. You can click on it twice.)
Curried custard filled pate brisee, English peas, asparagus, frisee, lemon gastrique, sherry elixir.
Soft shell crab, blue fin tuna, baby heirloom lettuce, "French" style horseradish dressing with fennel pollen.
Foie gras torchon, puff pastry, caramelized currants, green grape syrup, Shredded potatoes.
Manadarin orange cake, chocolate ganache, berries, creme anglaise.
Some of Salty's pirates. The gentleman holding the umbrella is Brad our garde manger. He is alergic to flourescent lighting and has to continually hold the umbrella during his shift. He still manages to get it done.
(Click photo to zoom. You can click on it twice.)
Curried custard filled pate brisee, English peas, asparagus, frisee, lemon gastrique, sherry elixir.
Soft shell crab, blue fin tuna, baby heirloom lettuce, "French" style horseradish dressing with fennel pollen.
Foie gras torchon, puff pastry, caramelized currants, green grape syrup, Shredded potatoes.
Manadarin orange cake, chocolate ganache, berries, creme anglaise.
Some of Salty's pirates. The gentleman holding the umbrella is Brad our garde manger. He is alergic to flourescent lighting and has to continually hold the umbrella during his shift. He still manages to get it done.
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