If you have filled up your car in the past few weeks, you should have noticed your gas bill dropping. If you haven’t filled your car recently, then I would be glad to swap vehicles with you. My car is more loyal to the gas pump than any pet has ever been loyal to me.

On average, we have seen a 40 to 50 percent reduction in the price of unleaded fuel lately. While the cost of diesel fuel has not exactly mirrored its counterpart, its price has still been dropping as well. As managers, we have become accustomed to seeing the added charges for fuel on our invoices. We have come to the point where we, as operators, need to begin to challenge these costs. While a $5-$10 fuel charge may not seem like much, lets look at a typical scenario:

• Fuel charge: $10
• Number of deliveries with a fuel charge per week: 10
• Amount we pay to the vendors per week on fuel charges: $100
• Amount we pay to the vendors per year on fuel charges: $5,200

Understand that your vendors will probably not withdraw these charges voluntarily. As the price of gas continues to decrease this becomes more profit for them. With the figures in hand, speak to your vendors. If they want your business, then they should be accommodating to your wishes. Even if only half of your vendors comply, this is still a $2,600 reduction in your costs (or about $10,000 less in revenue that you need to make to support these costs).

As a working professional chef my days are busy and leave little time for any additional activities. It would be very easy for me to say I don’t have time to participate in a culinary competition or submit a recipe to an industry contest. I have heard many of my colleagues say that the chefs who win these things are usually prima donnas with easy work loads, cushy jobs and lots of free time on their hands. I have to disagree; chefs that compete at any level do so because they are committed to testing and constantly improving their skills and knowledge. They know that competition level cooking hones their skills, introduces alternative techniques and ingredients to their repertoires and teaches them to work under extreme pressure. You are really competing against yourself and a strict set of rules and guidelines more so than anything or anyone else. On TV you don’t need to wear gloves, keep a sanitary and organized station or finish with an established recognized dish, here you do, no ones cutting you any slack.

I can tell you from first hand experience that competition cooking is a very humbling experience. Cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen under the watchful eye of highly qualified chef judges can rattle your nerves. Seemingly easy tasks that you perform on a daily basis are often difficult to execute in this environment. Time flies by quickly as you race to complete your plates by your designated time. If your oven doesn’t spike its temperature and you’ve avoided pan fires and self inflicted knife wounds, you may be able to finish as planned.

Competition no matter what the theme is not for everyone. As I approach 50 years old I jokingly comment that when I grow up I may get good at this. If you’re doing it to win, that’s OK. It is a competition but more importantly, did you learn something?

In Atlanta we are lucky to have strong American Culinary Federation chapter and a group of very supportive purveyors that promote and organize these amazing competitions. The dedicated group of chefs that put these competitions together should be commended for their tireless efforts, for without them these opportunities would not exist.

For most of my life, I’ve been a baseball fan. Some may say it’s because I played the game in very competitive leagues from ages 9 through 18 . Some will think it’s because I also played softball during all my years in the military, and that’s kind of like baseball, isn’t it?

I simply translated my love of pitching and defense to a medium where the focus is truly on the hitter. I saw some terrific things during my lifetime: the timeless Nolan Ryan and several of his no hitters; Cal Ripken breaking a longevity record that truly astounds in that it brought up all the longevity records from other workaday people who never miss a shift; the simple joy of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa chasing a dream home run season (later ruined amid rampant discussions of steroids); the Red Sox breaking their futility and winning not only one but two World Series. I fell in love with the game with that first solid ping of aluminum against leather. It’s a solid feeling that you feel in your guts that can’t be otherwise described. But beyond that, I love baseball for history.

There is a certain timeless quality to it. Small changes to the rules happen each and every year. Pitchers’ mounds get raised and lowered according to the public’s demands for offense. We saw the “dead ball” era when hitters simply seemed too good. The public demanded bigger! better! faster! more! Baseball responded with it’s “juiced era” that eventually ended amid Congressional investigations, shame, and the questioning of some standards that are held most dear. But the only reason all of this happened is because baseball has rumbled along virtually unchanged for a century or better.

When measuring the worth of a career, you have hitstory as a measuring point. Is Albert Pujols or A-Rod a superior player to Honus Wagner or Ty Cobb? The answer can only be yes and no. There is no way to replicate the conditions for either. Would A-Rod be as good playing for a steel mill team? Did Ty Cobb ever have a trainer? A nutritionist? Video analysis of his every at bat? It’s always a yes and a resounding no.

The appreciation of the timeless quality of baseball has served me well in my profession. (By the way, the collective sigh you just heard is from the mighty dozen of my readers who just realized I’ve come to my point). Cooking is, and has always been, timeless. It should remain that way forever.

Now it would be easy for me to elaborate on time lingered over a pot roast served by my grandmother that had the taste and texture of a damp wool blanket or to revel in the sheer genius of her mashed potatoes and gravy at the very same meal. I can’t enliven your lives with stories of learning how to cook Sunday dinner at Gram’s apron strings since we’re talking about a woman whose oven knew two settings, 450 and off. I won’t bore you with the story of the first time I truly tasted a raw oyster, and I mean truly tasted, where eating them for the gross out factor of others around me became a segue into a world of levels of salinity and melon/cucumber/clean aftertaste. It goes beyond anything in my experience and speaks more to the collective experience of all my Cheffly brethren. Pirates to be sure, but also slaves to and students of history.

Take a look at any great chef. And I do mean ANY great chef. Whether you’re looking at an uber-traditionist, fusion dude, retro throwback guy, fanatical classicist, or a molecular gastronomy mad scientist, they all have one thing in common: they know and appreciate solid, simple, cuisine. You can’t manipulate anything without knowing it’s nature. Same goes with people, but human fallibility makes us a much easier target. I’ve never met a vain squash or an insecure eggplant. Well, maybe a small Japanese eggplant could have some size “issues,” but they could argue they had all the taste in a smaller more efficient size. However, this is hardly the point.

During my recent trails and tribulations on the road to find a new culinary home, I’ve stayed in a lot of hotels. Some were spectacular; others made me wonder how in the hell a hotel got stuck in precisely that location (hello, city in Southern Ohio!). The one remarkable thing about all these different properties is how differently their menus are written, executed, and the bizarre nature of the names assigned to their various and sundry offerings. One such menu offended me so much that I wrote a three-page critique on it and gave it to the GM. Understandably, this was not the best of career moves as the critique also included a fair share of sarcasm and snarky comments. Seems I don’t have much of a filter.

Lesson #14, boys and girls: Great sarcastic comedy will seldom get you hired. But I digress…

Before you call me a knucklehead (as my mentor did…repeatedly), please know I stand by every criticism I leveled. I’m not the enemy of invention. If Ferran Adria wants me to realize the essence of thinly shaved and glorious serrano ham as it meets the juicy sweetness of a piece of summer melon by putting me in virtual reality goggles and a space helmet filled with melon scent, who am I to complain? If Grant Aschatz wants me to experience chicken piccatta by tasting a picatta flavored breath strip, I’m all for it. I’m stopping on the way home to actually eat, but I’m all for it. The thing about both experiences is that they both understand what the individual experiences are about. The sweet, salty rush. The feel of butter on your tongue. They understand the history. Hotel “X” didn’t get it.

As a man of considerable girth, I love eggs Benedict. The combination simply sings in a chorus that when done well makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. I also happen to like the variations: Eastern shore Benedict, which replaces the Canadian bacon with crabcakes; anything with a chipotle hollandaise named “Rancho” this or “Santa” that. One thing about Hotel “X” I found offensive was a combination of English muffin, Canadian bacon, poached eggs, and hollandaise sauce was named a California Benedict. Well, huh…how could the rest of the country and I have been so mistaken? Since the name was “California,” was I wrong to expect a lighter variation? Some sort of twist? Couldn’t you have at least thrown me an avocado into the mix (which seems to fit the definition of “California” cuisine to the rest of the country)? Can you do that, Sparky? Nope. Nada. Zip.

Hotel “X” also had a sandwich on the menu called a “Dip It,” which was thinly sliced roast beef and sautéed onions on a hard roll, with a side of Au Jus that the sandwich could be dipped in before each bite. Now call me a snob; call me overly critical; just don’t call me Shirley (sorry…not the time for an Airplane reference). If you are even the slightest student of the world of the sandwich, doesn’t that sound like a French Dip? The very same French Dip rumored to have been invented in, oh I don’t know, say, California!!? Was my critique valid? Yes! Was it particularly smart? Well…no. But what do you expect from someone so sarcastic?

They say those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. I can honestly say I certainly hope so. Great food has always been great food. Create! Invent! But always remember that classics are called “classics” for a reason. Just think, in 20 years, this blog will still exist and still be an appreciation of all those great chefs who came before me and after me. And I will still be, and always remain, a knucklehead. Comforting isn’t it?

Every year, the last week in September marks the start of the cranberry harvest season, which lasts until the end of October in Warrens, “The Cranberry Capital of Wisconsin” and hosts the world’s largest cranberry festival. 2008 marks the 36th annual festival. Attendance at the first Cranberry Festival in 1973 was 3,500. Since then it has grown from a small community festival into an international festival with over 100,000 people attending.

We too went on the road and after a 2 ½ hour drive we reached the outskirts of the town at 8:00 a.m. The parking lots filled up quickly and the only method getting to the center was per pedes. We asked a sheriff’s deputy for directions to the municipal building, the only place one could purchase tickets for the immensely popular marsh tours (cranberry beds are called “bog’s”), and were advised to move quickly as the tours are almost sold out.

Fest Facts
The Warrens Cranberry Festival has been named among the top 100 events in the nation repeatedly. It has been voted the #1 community festival in Wisconsin several times in the past by subscribers to “WI Trails” magazine. In 2000, 2001, 2002, and 2003, the festival was selected by “Sunshine Artist” magazine as “One of the 100 Best Shows in the United States” by the vendors who attended.
The Warrens Cranberry Festival collaborates with the Wisconsin Cranberry Discovery Center located in downtown Warrens. The facility takes visitors on an adventure to discover cranberry growing in Wisconsin from Native Americans gathering fruit in the wild, to the unique methods of growing and harvesting today with an exciting display of exhibits.
The Discovery Center also contains a Taste Test Kitchen where freshly baked cranberry products are made and served at a refurbished local drugstore soda fountain. It is also a great resource for recipes and cook books, and one can browse through the gift shop with a large selection of cranberry products. If it is too crowded for your liking you may also shop online. The Warrens Cranberry Festival is putting over $300,000.00 towards this project which we feel will contribute toward tourism and the economic development of the community.

History
The first cranberry marshes in the state date back to the 1830s, even before Wisconsin was a state.
During healthy conditions, the cranberry industry has a significant impact on the state’s economy. Wisconsin’s #1 fruit crop, in terms of acreage and value, provides more than 7,200 jobs and contributes approximately $330 million per year to the state’s economy. Approximately 180,000 acres of support land – wetlands, forest and reservoirs – are preserved to harvest cranberries on approximately 16,000 acres. That means growers are protecting nearly 10 acres for every one we use at no cost to the public. Various types of wildlife can be found on cranberry marshes, including blue herons, trumpeter swans, sand hill cranes, fox deer, geese, wolves, bears, eagles, osprey, loons, and all kinds of reptiles and ducks

In an effort to market more cranberries and satisfy the American consumer, Ocean Spray and various other brands have introduced a new product to its juice line-up, white cranberry juice and blends! The juice is lighter, sweeter, and less tart than typical cranberry juice, and is intended to draw in young families with kids (it doesn’t stain!). White cranberry juice is made of cranberries harvested 2 to 3 weeks earlier than usual (early to mid September instead of late September.)

Medicinal properties
 Studies have supported the role of naturally occurring anticancer agents in fruits and vegetables. Recent studies have shown that these compounds found cranberries help protect cells from damage that may contribute to certain types of cancer.
 Similar to red wine or grape juice, a recent study conducted by UW-LaCrosse researchers found that cranberry juice contains anti-oxidants, which may be beneficial in preventing heart problems. Anti-oxidants help protect cells against oxidation, a process that contributes to hardening of the arteries. Recent studies have shown that cranberries contain high levels of these beneficial compounds, perhaps the highest of any fruit tested.
 Preliminary research results show that cranberries have the ability to decrease total cholesterol and LDL, or “bad” cholesterol, and increase blood flow.
 There are some studies demonstrating that cranberry juice is good for urinary tract health because of “anti-adhesion” properties. The National Kidney Foundation recommends one large glass of cranberry juice each day to maintain good kidney health.

And last but not least, on April 5th, 2004 the cranberry was named Wisconsin’s official state fruit.

I manage a team of hard working, dedicated, and caring professionals.  So do you.  That doesn’t mean that any one of them isn’t capable of unintentionally undermining our operations at any time.

I couldn’t figure out why we were going through so many spice grinders.  I tried one brand, then another.  I tried small capacity, large capacity, “professional,” and homeowner models.  They died so quickly that I was beginning to think that there was a strange magnetic field at work.

It was one of my line cooks who stumbled on the answer when he went to grind some pepper and found a whole nutmeg stuck in the blade of the grinder.  It suddenly struck me that a whole truckload of spice grinders had been laid to rest by my prep cook with the help of an East Indian spice tree.  Without my knowledge.  Although he vowed to never do it again, I stopped buying spice grinders because while I was waiting for one of the replacements to come in, I discovered that the Vita-Mix makes an excellent spice grinder.  It can probably handle a nutmeg come to think of it…

Since the age of nine, I have been in a kitchen slicing, dicing, and chopping. Prior to graduating from the Culinary Institute of America and, having the ability to cook with a wide array of food products, I had some pretty humble beginnings.

I remember going on camping trips in high school where items like Small Mouth Bass were on our dinner menu. I remember being out in the middle of the woods with a number of hungry buddies and very little to work with. However, improvisation was how I operated. Items like potato chips became a great crust for frying the fish. Canned soups became sauces and poaching liquids. Fried / minced bacon became a seasoning.

You are probably saying to yourself “that’s wonderful that you are reminiscing about the past but, what does this have to do with me?” The answer to this question is creativity.

For years we have always been good about turning leftovers into the special for the day. How about using that same creativity to come up with permanent menu items? Why not use the old potato chips as a breading? Could you use a nice Masago instead of high-end Caspian Sea Caviar? Meats such as chicken and pork lend themselves to many applications. Protein duos have been on banquet menus for years. How about offering similar options in the restaurants?

Now more than ever our livelihood depends on our ability to keep costs down. In this economy saving a few dollars could be the difference between keeping the lights on and being out of a job. People such as your servers, guests and even your salesmen could offer some interesting suggestions. Don’t be afraid to be creative. Until next time…