Allez Cuisine for Geriatrics: The Life of an Independent Living Chef

Cooking With a Dash of Laws, a Pinch Regulations, and a Smidgen of Restrictions

Unlike the a la carte restaurant world, we in the geriatric service world live by restrictions, laws and guidelines. As a company we follow the American Heart Association to the letter. For instance, the AHA sets a limit of 1500 milligrams of sodium per day. For a frame of reference, a cup of soup from Panera has around 900mg of sodium. That’s well over half of one of our residents' sodium intake for the DAY not the meal. I remember back in the restaurant arena when we were told to make a special or a soup by Chef, the last thing that crossed my mind was the milligrams of sodium! Just had to make sure the item tasted great and looked even better. So I can’t just make whatever soup du jour or special that I want. I must keep in mind diets, doctor's orders, state law and company regulations.

I will be honest - making this change was not easy. Try making a great N.E clam chowder without bacon, butter, cream, or salt. We need to be more creative: fresh clams, butter alternatives without trans fat, soy sauce as a nice lower sodium alternative, skim milk instead of cream with a corn starch slurry to thicken because that butter based roux will not do. You would be surprised how clean and full flavored chowder can taste without bacon, butter, cream or salt.

The most important thing is to provide the proper nutrition for a person in their eighties or nineties. Also, it is paramount to follow the doctor ordered diet. Since there wasn’t a tremendous amount of knowledge on trans fats and sodium back in the twenties and thirties, a lot of our residents are on restricted diets. LF/LC (low-fat, low-cholesterol) and NAS (no-added-sodium) to name a couple are very common to see. The trick is to keep the menus interesting and exciting while keeping with nutritional guidelines. As I stated earlier, we are restricted to a specific amount of sodium or fat we can serve in a day. When you pay attention to that, you will appreciate how hard it can be. You may want to serve fried shrimp for dinner on Friday, but since you have 16 residents on LF/LC diets you also need to offer a shrimp scampi with a butter alternative.

We do have guidelines and laws to live by, but with careful planning we are able to offer comfort foods on our seasonal menu - more 'guilty pleasures.' With in our structured menu, we always offer a fish, poultry and beef protein accompanied with a green vegetable, potato and non-potato starches. The seasonal side of our menu is always loaded with comfort foods so if the daily offerings do not appeal we have a backup menu built in. This past Friday our menu looked like this: Seasonal Offerings [on the left side of our menu]: Catch of the Day: Grilled Pesto-Encrusted Salmon with citrus compound butter (it is a zero trans fat, or ZTF item) *dill cream sauce available upon request (yes it is made with skim milk) Poultry: Braised Stuffed Pork Chop with cranberry-sage-bacon stuffing Beef: Traditional Baked Meatloaf with portabella mushroom gravy Seasonal Vegetable: Sautéed Haricot Vert with fresh garlic Potato starch: Mashed Potatoes Non-Potato Starch: Mac-n-Cheese And… The Daily Offerings [on the right side of the menu]: Haddock Fish Fry: Battered in homemade beer batter fried to a golden brown. Served with coleslaw French Dip: Served over crusty bread with rosemary au jus Grilled Balsamic Chicken Breast: marinated in garlic balsamic vinaigrette Vegetable: Glazed Baby Carrots with Bok Choy Starch: Steak-Cut French Fries

When all is said and done, we have six entrée offerings on any given day. We vary our cooking methods - something fried (every so often), something baked, something braised, something borrowed and something blue. We have to make sure that there are not too many sauces or gravies, to offer a green veggie and a non-green veggie, to make sure to have potato and non-potato starches on the menu. Also make sure the menu fits - if you are serving Sesame Chicken make sure you’ve got some fried rice and brown rice for your special diets!

Each menu is geared toward diets and company guidelines. Some days it’s easy and some it’s tough. No matter the challenge, it is always rewarding. It means a great deal when you are helping a resident achieve a higher quality of living so they can keep visiting those grand kids. Offering these options and this kind of clean cooking is appreciated. We often hear from the residents and their families just how much they appreciate how healthful - and yet flavorful - the food is that we serve.

We basically cater to the special diets so everyone can maintain their dignity. We don’t want to deny someone the cream soup or the sugary pie because they are not allowed by their physician. So, simply put, we cater to the minority. To be honest, I like it because I end up eating healthier! More importantly so do our residents. Years ago when a person reached 80, it seemed like the attitude was, “well I’ve made it this far bring on the empty calories!” Now the pendulum has swung and the attitude is more geared toward optimum life and healthful living. After all the entire nonagenarian age group is the fastest growing in America. The 90 and over according to the census bureau increased a little over 30% from 2000-2010.

Keep in mind the state and physician regulations can further complicate that with what people actually want. This may all seem obvious and second nature to the more traditional ala cart restaurant cooks, but - trust me - it isn’t when you have to keep under a certain number of milligrams of sodium during the course of the day. Every pinch of salt you use is measured - think about how many boxes of Morton's you go through a week. It is a challenge but just to prove that it can be done we have some tricks. For example to replace salt just take some sesame or (salt-free) sunflower seeds, robo coupé and add to bread crumbs for coating baked fish or poultry. Fresh ground pepper, onion powder and fresh roasted garlic work as a nice salt alternative for a variety of items, stocks, sauces, soups etc.. For lunch “deli” salads I use mustard or pickle juice to get that salty zing with a fraction of the sodium.

Geriatric cookery does not allow for as much freedom and flexibility a more traditional restaurant cook has. However, this also keeps things interesting, forces you to be creative and more skilled in your technique. You have to coax every bit of flavor from each product without relying on butter, salt, or cream. Instead rely on marinades, spice blends with dried citrus fruits, and fresh-as-can-be items. There are many more tricks and substitutes for almost any “unhealthy” item.

All the LCFL-ers are creative; this just forces you to be creative in a different way.

Thanks for the time!

Matthew Janish

Populism & the Diner: The Proliferation of Yelp & Crowdsourcing Reviews

In the bygone era of the traditional restaurant reviewership the methods were established and predictable. A restaurant critic, usually anonymous, would enter the establishment and attempt to absorb the most representative experience the restaurant had to offer. Based upon this single moment, or a series of coordinated dinners, a restaurant is critiqued, gauged against industry peers and rated according to a predetermined system for measurement. For better or worse this review was irreproachable, and the dining public largely subscribed to the assessment as a basis for whether or not they would patronize the dining establishment. Restaurants flourished as well as faltered within this system, as a positive review could effectively sustain revenue and the longevity of the business, while negative reviews often promulgated the notion of a toxic environment that almost inevitably led to the closure of a kitchen's doors. While many of the major print publications still maintain the position of a restaurant critic if not an entire section dedicated to dining itself, these arbiters of taste have found their authority assaulted by the myriad of voices who have lent their own criticisms to the multitude of internet forums aimed directly at the service industry. While the solitary blogger functions to imitate print criticism, it is the proliferation of Yelp and its ascendancy as a creditable source of information that has reformulated the structure by which restaurants are reviewed. Crowdsourced reviewiership and its cacophony of voices has effectively diminished the importance of the published criticism, while establishing a democratic tone for our collective endeavor to find the best brunch. 

Established print criticism is still a powerful and effective means by which restaurants are judged within the industry, but the affect of this populist voice is impossible to overlook as it is being concentrated more effectively through the evolution of these forums. In a recent interview with Charlie Rose, Yelp co-founder and CEO Jeremy Stoppelman succinctly presented the companies platform as, “word of mouth amplifiedi,” and the industry has only seen this amplification grow consistently stronger since its conception. While Yelp was once largely viewed as fraught with inaccuracies, the company has worked well to expunge false reviews and build its credibility with the dining public. The system still has its flaws as evidenced by Michael Luca's oft cited statistical analysis of Yelp's accuracy Optimal Aggregation of Consumer Ratings: An Application to Yelp.comii, in which Luca et al maintain that the simple aggregation of consumer reviews will not accurately reflect the present quality of a dining establishment. However, the fact that the dining public find Yelp to be a credible source of information plays a significant role in informing their choice of a restaurant to patronize, thus it is pivotal in its effect over a diner's patronage and the esteem by which the community holds a restaurant. This influence essentially nullifies the legitimate argument that a restaurant's star rating may not be an accurate reflection of its actual quality, but the industry must pay attention to the criticisms, regardless of how ill-informed or erratic we believe them to be. 

Advice is often hard to receive, and when engaged in a service industry that aims to make the customer happy above all else the cook/server/chef does not want to know that they have failed to achieve this fundamental goal. Yelp is at times unpalatable because through all of the hyperbole and seemingly unconscionable demands, the employee knows that they have failed at their responsibility to provide a great dining experience and a cherished food memory to a diner who, regardless of how difficult they might have been, was patronizing the restaurant and seeking a good experience. This failing is perhaps why it is so hard to confront this kind of review, while simultaneously the reason for which it is so often dismissed as amateur and misinformed. But we do not cook for the professional critic who may be an industry veteran, we cook for the regulars that keep the doors open, the couple who is looking to find a new place in an unfamiliar neighborhood, the mother or father who is a stay-at-home parent and looks at restaurants for temporary respite from the constant stress of raising a child. Discussing the makeup of Yelp contributors in the same interview with Rose, Stoppleman states, "If you look at the demographics, they're off the charts, very attractive. They're 22-50...highly educated, high income, and age-wise average in the mid-30s. It's not just young folks mouthing off about McDonald's. It's consumers in major urban metros talking about businessesiii."  This is the crowd that is being sourced from and the dining public that pays attention to a restaurant's star rating, regardless of its legitimacy. The service worker must extract meaning from this form of criticism, as it will only help to improve one's own awareness of the strengths and weaknesses that exist in one's cooking, serving, management, or the restaurant as a whole. 

Following Pete Wells' now infamous review of Daniel Boulud's eponymous restaurant in which his primary criticism rested not entirely on the food or even the service that his party received but the level of service granted to his anonymous diner, this notion of treating every diner as equal is tantamount to the quality of the restaurant itself. We cannot cater simply to the VIP client, but must treat every diner with an equal amount of respect just as we must treat every criticism with equal weight regardless of its source. To dismiss criticism as illegitimate is to dismiss the values of the client for whom the restaurant seeks to please and profit from, a policy that only functions to expedite the demise of a dining establishment. Instead, the model needs to evolve further to allow for dialogue between the consumer and the producer, the reviewer and the business. Restaurants can effectively gauge demand within the market through crowdsourcing just as the diner assesses his or her options as well his or her experiences, creating a symbiotic effect that does not alienate the producer from the conversation. If reviewership is to move towards a democratic forum rather than a small collection of individuals, restaurants must engage in the dialogue and seek criticisms when offered or suffer for their ignorance.  Line Cook (always seeking criticism) For Life

Ian Auger

#010// The Tao of a Sous

When I first became a sous chef it was under my mentor. It took over two years of hard work. The first year I wasn't paid with anything other than knowledge. I went from barely holding a knife to holding down the grill. It was a big day for me. I wasn't even twenty one yet. I had outlasted two sous, one a CIA grad. It was proof of my skill and dedication.
The reality was I became sous by default. Plus I was the only cook who didn't want to kill the chef.
You see, what makes a sous chef is loyalty. By definition a sous is the second in command in the brigade system and thereby the chef in absentia. In order to carry out all of the duties as the chef would one must buy into the chef's system. In theory, being a sous is more than a job, it's a mentality and requires an ability to be someone pushing the chef's agenda, inspiring those around to sign on themselves. A sous chef recruits additional believers who will hopefully follow the chef's theory and instruction to the letter and execute it perfectly - not out of fear for the chef but rather with belief that the chef's food is the best.
One must also have a resentment, which is why the chef nit picks the sous to death. If a sous really wants the big hat then he will have to earn it through being placed in the most difficult situations mentally and physically. He will have to be grille and saute when someone calls in. He will have to come in on Sunday mornings to do inventory. He will have to be the one overseeing the deep clean of the dishpit. If the sous is doing these things its important to understand one crucial detail: the chef is doing none of this. If the chef makes more money, then why isn't he there?
This is the egg that hatches in every linecook's head during sous chefdom. This becomes the motivating factor in his development into a head chef. Yes, he's learning how to stock, zone, order, schedule - the managerial duties that your average linecook is not doing. He has also, in theory, pushed himself to being the fastest and most efficient cook in the kitchen. If you are the guy who cooks fastest and is capable of accomplishing the management of the kitchen wouldn't you end up being pissed that the guy above you is banking on your work?
Is this how all junior management feels?
Is this the resentment that has the potential to morph into poison or greatness?
Stress is what tempers a good linecook. The heat, smoke and chef provide enough outside pressure to fortify a linecook into a diamond - a sweaty, smelly diamond. Creating this proper balance is what defines a good chef.
Yeah, I said it.
His food is only part of it. If a chef's food was subpar he would not be in the position he's in. It's a prerequisite, so let's just work under that assumption. A good chef is able to make those around him better. He is able to work a Saturday night service, holding down expo, all the while mumbling into his sous chef's ear all the theory, technique and critique of the way he holds his tongs, pushing the cook past his comfort level, towards excellence. Like Yoda on Dagobah running through the swap on Luke's back.
"Fire course three on seven. Why are you basting like that? Big spoon. Remember the entire point: coat the fish, its not just cooking from below now. Look at your grille, flaring up - and wipe that cutting board. You got this or do you need my help? And don't over-salt that sauce - remember, powerful is the salt inside the clams, very little seasoning is necessary. You must think and remember where all of this comes form and that it is interconnected."
"I'm trying-"
"There is no try, only do."
These moments are the real creation of the sous chef. He's the one who gets to work next to the chef all night long. He's the one in the office with a glass of wine afterwards. He's the only one with inside jokes with the chef. The chef cannot do his job well without a strong and capable sous. Without an overzealous number two he is not awarded the time to simply daydream. A chef needs time to think about how to be at the cutting edge of cuisine, where to source the caviar, how to structure a prefix menu - the details are never something that just happen. It requires a quiet moment, alone, staring at the ceiling and playing the upcoming event out in your head. The sous makes sure the hoods are clean while this is happening.
The crux is the eventual and inevitable overtaxed sous. The one who understands this aspect of the position and takes on too much for too long. A good chef will see this before it happens, but human nature will always allow someone to occasionally fall into delegation mode. Just like a good sous will inspire loyalty among the rank and file, a good chef will be able to care for and understand his sous chef and their stress level.
The chef is training the sous to be a chef one day himself. The hope is to pass on practiced technique and time tested systems onto the next generation in hopes that years down the line you will not be forgotten. I think that the immortality of ideas is fascinating and to add to the melange of culinary history is the goal. Escoffier did not set out to be the father of French cuisine - he had Careme, Verenne, et al. who already owned the title, depending on who you talked to. Escoffier's codification - in other words his theory regarding the work that existed before him - is what has given him that title in modern cuisine. It was his apprentices and sous chefs who spread his teachings. They were his disciples and it is the hope of any chef worth his salt to create a legion of these folk to take over any town where they sling their knife.
I was a sous chef for over ten years. Without a degree it seemed most owners did not want to hand over the most expensive and difficult aspect of their business to a 20-something. Who can blame them? I became a career sous chef, sought out by several notable chefs in several cities. I kept kitchens clean and slung hash at an impressive rate. I also am loyal to a fault and would buy into these men's systems hook, line and sinker - not because their food was the craziest shit, but rather I had things to learn and wanted to get them learnt. Now. I had places to go. There must be a reason they won't hire me as chef and maybe this guy knows what it is. That concept inspired a fervent dedication to my chef and my job. I regularly fell into the cycle of taking on to much in hopes to please.
It's a tricky point in a cook's career.
I will say this: I was last hired as a sous chef about six years ago and I hope to never be in that tenuous position again although I look back on it with the fondness one reserves for memories of summer camp or family holidays. I was sous to some very remarkable and flawed men who I hold in similar esteem to my father and grandfather. They collectively forged me into the cook and chef that I am today and I hope to inspire those under me with the same loyalty in hopes that my culinary legacy will not be lost as soon as I am.


James Pawl Kane
Chef & Sous Chef in Perpetuity

Continuing the Discussion

So I've been sitting on this for a couple weeks now, but with the recent podcast being dropped on this very topic of conversation I feel the impetus to put pen to paper, fingers to keys. I had the supreme displeasure of recently watching a friend and coworker go through a month long decline into a self-inflicted spiraling depression and eventual implosion. We all thought this to be a temporary phase and never acknowledged this shift in emotion to possess the gravity it held. It came to a head on an unassuming Friday morning, when whatever demons he had been wrestling with forced action and prompted him to quit without notice at the beginning of a shift, walk out of the restaurant after slamming a copy of his depleted bank statement on the bar and head home to the South in a frenzy of exasperation and exhaustion. Overworked, underpaid, and under-appreciated, my colleague could not take the stress of the situation and ejected himself from this personal hell with an immediacy that inspires awe, compassion and, most importantly, reflection.

Summers in NYC are fucking brutal for restaurant folk. The weather is not just hot, but cruelly amplified by the very asphalt we roam upon. Our apartments take on the quality of bikram studios that create a seemingly endless three month long sweat session. Biking through the spray of an unleashed hydrant becomes an activity in of itself, as one can find temporary solace in the cooling water reminiscent of younger summers spent running through backyard sprinklers with grass stained feet.

Most importantly though, the weather does not allow the body to fully relax and causes for shortened tempers and heightened emotions. Shit is hot and our patience wains as the thermostat climbs. For the employee of an NYC restaurant this is all augmented by the fact that you are working through the slowest of the seasons, as most of the people wealthy enough to dine out on a consistent basis have fled the humidity for Montauk, for the Hamptons, for anywhere that is not New York City.

The line cook perseveres for the most part as we are by nature gluttons for punishment in a truly masochistic sense. A little extra sweat through the shift just means we can embellish our stories a little more at the bar after service. However, the front of the house truly suffers through these leaner months as service slows and so too does their income from tips. You start to internalize the situation. The restaurant is no longer slow because of the season, but due to your own personal failings as a cook, a server, as a representative of the establishment. You question everything and this dialogue becomes a pervasive voice that only grows louder as the temperature rises and the tickets roll in at a slower tempo. By nature restaurant work promotes a certain introspective self-examination, as we are constantly engaged in a process of personal critique, but this phenomenon becomes destructive when environmental and social forces collide to heighten its affect. Taking it a step further, when an employee is already predisposed to depression and dramatic shifts of emotion, this quality becomes outright dangerous. 

My friend is gone from the restaurant and the establishment has met the challenge of his departure as was necessary. He was the FOH coordinator and his sudden departure caused for a frantic weekend that will never be forgotten, but the trivial hardships of service pale in comparison to my genuine hope that he is in a better mental place having removed himself from the fray. He knew his limits and left before things progressed too far. Regrettably I am writing this personal account in the shadow of Colin Devlin's own suicide. My heart goes out to his family and friends, and though I never knew the man I feel as though we all understand the struggle he endured having braved the industry for twenty-eight years while opening three successful Brooklyn restaurants. Take heed of this account and of Mr. Devlin's life, as a life dedicated to professional cookery is too often concluded by physical and mental decline. We all need our escape, whether it is in drink, drugs or some other format, but never lose the awareness of your self to the point where you lack control. We are an abstract assemblage of men and women who have foolishly embarked on a ride that will take us to the highest and lowest places in our lives, but we must find support in one another through the toughest of times. Line cook for life.  

Ian