Waiting on You-Episode Six

I left work early with a "headache" on the day I was to meet Mrs. X in person. I hadn't driven all the way to her neck of the woods yet and I sure didn't want to be late for our first meeting.  According to online directions it would take me an hour to get there. I arrived in 40 minutes. That put me at about an hour and twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Maybe she would like to meet earlier?

"Good Afternoon. Jardin."

"Hi, this is Marie and I have a meeting with Mrs. X at 4.  I arrived much earlier than I anticipated and was wondering if she would like to meet sooner."

"Hello, Marie. Hold on, please." After a minute of elevator music played the woman returned to the line. "We would prefer to keep to the specified time slot. She will see you at 4pm." The woman hung up.

Great. What would I do with myself for roughly an hour on foreign turf? I drove reluctantly and nervously down windy, wooded paths until I came to a more populated area. Civilization! Mini malls! I could waste time here for sure.

One fro-yo and a pair of shoes later I drove back up the windy, wooded paths to Amy's Cafe. 

So, when Amy said she had a Cafe she meant rinky-dink Diner.  Now I understand the "casual is an understatement" comment, albeit unnecessary. 

I walked in and peered past the host stand to look for Annette. No signs of her. I sat down on a bench and waited. Twenty minutes later Annette arrived with a portly old lady. Mrs. X wore a long, tan trench coat, black slacks and orthopedic shoes, large black sunglasses and a silk scarf tied around her snow white hair. Annette introduced us and we walked to a booth. I slowed up to allow them to choose seats first. They sat together. Awkward situation #1 avoided.

We began to talk about my schooling, my current job, and why I wanted a career change. Annette and I requested coffee while Mrs. X asked for Bigelow black tea with jasmine. She was forced to settle for Lipton's.

An hour of quizzing went by and we still only had one cup of caffeine each. Our waitress seemed very annoyed. Mrs. X was oblivious. When I felt I had nothing left to say about myself, or anything in general, I decided to excuse myself.  Before I could do so Mrs. X turned to Annette and said, "Should we?" to which Annette replied, "I think so."

Just a Taste-10 Arts

My 26^th birthday was sort of depressing. A very stressful day of working in the world of corporate catering was topped off by the friendly phone calls of “Happy Birthday, you’re old.” I know it could be worse.  I could be turning 27, and I could have parents who didn’t love good food as much as I did. All it took was a mention of the Eric Ripert’s new restaurant, 10 Arts, at the Ritz Carlton in Philadelphia and my father booked "Felix party of 8."

We spent time at the lobby bar in the Rotunda, where the modern light fixtures met old-world marble grandeur.  At first sight, it is a bit overwhelming.  Sort of like my family.  Despite our raucous behavoir, the bartenders handled us like pros handing us one tasty drink after another.  The champagne cocktails fizzed on my tongue and set the precedent for what was to come.  We were seated precisely at 9 along a banquette in the center section of the restaurant, which is located only a few steps from the bar.  I thought the lively bar scene would interfere with dinner conversation, but the large glass partition proved to be enough of a blockade.

Grilled shrimp, heads still intact, laid on zesty quinoa salad. The shrimp was plump and one bite filled my mouth with buttery juices.  Next, I savored every drop and kernel of my smoky corn chowder. The silky broth contrasted texturally with the sweet corn kernels. One note, although not a terrible criticism, was that the soup was salty. I think it comes with the chowder territory. Plus, I tend to like my food with more salt.  

Now, I usually don’t like to order the same dish as anyone at the table. If someone chooses the dish that interests me, I order another. So I try theirs and I get to enjoy more of the menu. But in the case of the Rabbit Paillard, I discarded this theory.  As each of the three orders came to the table my eyes grew wider and wider.  I cut in to the thin but still tender piece of rabbit that was lightly breaded and fried. I gathered the arugula and pea salad on the same bite and quickly gobbled it up.  Ah, warm breading and crisp greens. Then came the pop of a sweet pea and the tang of the vinaigrette.  Luckily, for the rest of the table, my sister and her boyfriend offered up some of their rabbit because mine was quick to disappear. 

I guess, to parents, their kids will always be kids who need cake and candles on their birthday.  At the opposite end of the table, my mother had conspired with our server.  I was borderline mortified when the Chef-de-Cuisine, Jennifer Carroll, strolled into the dining room with a Chocolate Peanut dessert and wished me, “Happy Birthday.”  I swallowed down s bite of dessert along with my embarrassment and talked to Chef Carroll for a few minutes.  I welcomed her back to her hometown and thanked her for a flawless meal.  I didn’t know she left, but I’m glad she’s back and giving us a refined taste of Philly at 10 Arts in the Ritz Carlton.

Waiting On You-Episode Five

Let's go back in time, shall we? You may be wondering, how did I get this job? Why did I go for the position? How did I hear about the opportunity? Here it goes.

I saw the job posted on my culinary school's job website. At the time I really wanted to get out of my current situation. My boss was sexist and immature and it seemed like a dead end. I had been planning to get into the business of personal chef-dom anyway. I figured with a few years experience cooking at an "estate" how could any layman turn down my services? 

I called the number attached to the posting and spoke to Annette. She informed me that she took care of special projects for the X's and that finding them a chef was the last project she had lined up. After a few personal and prodding questions I realized this was the interview process, Phase One.

Phase Two was scheduled at a small coffee shop in Pennsylvania. I was running a few minutes late due to the inconspicuous location and pouring rain. I called Annette's cell phone to let her know. Somehow I still arrived before her. I sat down in a plush, comfy chair in the corner facing the door.

Annette came in dripping wet and dragging a briefcase and two bags. She glanced around and then approached me. "Are you Marie?" she asked as she threw her luggage on the table. 

She cracked open the briefcase and whipped out stacks of paper. We talked about me, my culinary education and cooking preferences. She quizzed me about juniper berries, beurre blanc and cherries jubilee.  As we talked she made checks and slashes on the pages. This made me very nervous but she said she was very pleased and she thought the X's would be, too. 

Our third encounter was to be at "Amy's Cafe" a week later. Mrs. X would be joining us for this one. 

When I Googled directions I found out that Amy's Cafe was not a cafe but a diner attached to a Holiday Inn.  Annette said Mrs. X wanted me to know, in terms of this place, "casual is an understatement."  The unnecessary information came with an eerie condescending attitude that seemed not her own. 

Why didn't I take heed of the flaming red flag?

Think Outside the Clock

Where: Whole Foods

When: 9 a.m.

What: Yuen pulls her first pizza from the firey oven and tosses it into the display window.  A customer walks by and I overhear him say, "Who wants cheese pizza at 9 in the morning?" Initially, I had two thoughts. One would lead to the termination of my employment and the other was to simply say, "I do."

Why: does he ask such a question?

Some people are so stuck on meals corresponding to the time of day. Think of it this way: pizza is just bread and cheese and a little sauce. A bagel with cream cheese and jelly is fundamentally the same thing (bread product, cheese product, and a spread made from fruit or vegetable). Has Father Time posted house rules about when certain foods are acceptable for consumption? Guess I missed that memo.

Think of how delicious life could be if meals and menus were not constrained by the position of the sun.  You could eat your favorite foods as you pleased. Lots of cooking shows on television create entire episodes about "what a treat" and how "outside-the-box" it is to make breakfast for dinner. They make it seem so abnormal. It's discrimination.

Perhaps it was the creation of the words, "breakfast," "lunch" and "dinner" that time-cast foods. Maybe it is the thought that lighter fare should be eaten earlier in the day to keep you from feeling weighed down and lethargic. Keep in mind, though, this is primarily an American train of thought. True, other residents of Earth use words to describe meal times, but Europeans and Latin Americans usually eat lighter as the day goes on. Also, they enjoy pastries at breakfast and sometimes even a platter of sliced, cured meats and robust cheeses.

And what about all-nighters? Picture this: We are partying. We watch the hands swing to 4 a.m. and decide it's been enough. We also decide that it is time to eat. The typical spread at this time of night (morning) is chicken fingers, cheese fries, pizza, burgers and hoagies. Technically, shouldn't we be eating off the breakfast menu at this hour? Food TV could make another episode out of that.

You see, it's all in our heads.  The time has come when we stop placing foods in time slots. If I have a craving for a burger and a beer at 8 a.m. I want to eat it and not be judged. Anything goes on my watch.

Just a Taste-Iron Hill Brewery: Maple Shade, NJ

At noon I was at a bridal shower where I made great use of the elastic that stretched around the waist of my dress. Shortly after I headed to dinner where I would test its breaking point.

Iron Hill Brewery of West Chester fame has situated its tanks in Maple Shade on a fairly dead stretch of Kings Highway. Hopefully tumbleweeds aren't the only things to blow towards this place. I'd like for it to stick around.

We walked in and I was tempted to sit at the bar, but it was date night, so I figured a booth would be less distracting. However, when I got the menu, I didn't pick my head up for 10 minutes. It was about 6 pages long. Sensory overload.

When in doubt, or when indecisive, I order appetizers. The wings were huge and meaty but not very crispy. The quesadillas had lots of crabmeat but not lots of taste. Voodoo shrimp was very smokey and not many other flavors were discernible.  And then there were the sweet potato fries. There is not much else I can say except that these fries made me forget about everything else I ordered. I played through the pain of the cumbersome elastic because I could not stop eating nor dipping. Oh, the dips! Smoked paprika mayonnaise and sweet vanilla burgundy sauces are the best substitutes for ketchup to date. 

Although it wasn't as overwhelming as the food menu, the beer menu had too many choices for my inexperienced, and mostly unwilling, beer palate. I opted for the house sampler. Delicious, except for the porter. Too dark for me. The raspberry wheat and the belgian whitbier were my favorites. 

This place could be great on a Friday or Saturday night. I'd go a little early, take a tour of the brewery, have a something to eat in the dining room then move to the bar and try the rest of the brews. You can also take beer to go; they bottle it right in front of you. Put it in the trunk so you don't get ahead of yourself on the ride home.