If you were to compare some of the music of John Coltrane to the world of food, I think you would be safe to place him in the category of today’s gastromolecular chef.  Both produce a distinct, out-of-the-ordinary experience for its prospective audiences.  Both are easily misunderstood. And I would add that both probably felt a compulsion to create that drives them beyond the norm.

Coltrane was a contemporary of Miles Davis in the late fifties, just at the time Davis was exploring the cool jazz sounds that would reach forward decades later and put his fingerprints on artist like Steely Dan and the electronic sounds of techno, house and trip-hop.   Coltrane took the keys to the musical vehicle that Davis handed him and put the pedal to the metal.  He found such freedom in expression in the modal jazz form that he often did not know when to quit.  It is said of the days when the two played together live, that Davis might leave the stage and take a seat at the bar as Coltrane began his solo.  At one particular gig, forty five minutes later, Davis would return to the stage once Coltrane was finished.  This created some tension at times, to which Coltrane defended himself by saying, “I just don’t know when to finish.”  Miles retorted with a snap, “Just take the damn horn outta your mouth, man!”

Much of Coltrane’s music does not make it on a playlist for the restaurant; else I would have too many people with puzzled looks asking to turn it down.  It is not ordinarily accessible.  It is “extra“-ordinary.  It does what all great jazz should do; it makes you think about what is being played.  It creates a statement. It is not background music. It is not to be ignored.

To appreciate the music of Coltrane is to be willing to step deeply into his theory and practice and understand the thought behind the seeming cacophony.  There was method to his madness and that method, much like some chefs, requires thought and engagement

It’s a goal of mine to have more Coltrane encounters this year.  Whether its food or music, I don’t want to take either for granted.  I want to be near the kitchen or near the stage of thoughtful, engaged creators that believe in their craft so passionately that to overlook it would be an ignorant transgression.

The older I get, the less I want to take life for granted.

Music is an important part of creating an environment of hospitality. Just as the food and service must be consistent in quality, it’s my personal opinion that the music heard in a restaurant needs to have a consistent genre or vibe to it. What you hear develops expectation, however subtle or subconscious it may be.

We often get the question, “who’s that playing right now?” So I decided to list 24 of my favorite artists/discs that set the mood for the bread&cup experience. Most are available on iTunes, Amazon or the service I primarily use, eMusic. I have listed the genre, a brief description and a one song definition that you should sample to get a good idea of the artist in one shot.

Though I’m probably too old, I lean toward the hipster on this list, as I take pride in finding stuff you’ve never heard of.

I’m into making goals and resolutions, so if you’re not, bear with me. Maybe I can make my point without being that guy.

One thing I’ve learned this year about leading people is the very thing that The Gallup Organization has figured out years ago; everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and the best course of action is to try and get people into a realm where they can express those strengths easily.  To focus only on strengths without giving attention to weaknesses may seem like neglectful management, and it is if the weaknesses are never first acknowledged and understood.

Dealing with Karen’s cancer over the last year and a half has led me to view our marriage in a completely different light.  It has caused me to lean on her strengths more and more rather than to bicker over the ways she is not like me.  More than once I found the question hovering over me in the darker moments, “What would I do without her?”  This was a sobering realization.

With us, we are two extremes.  I am time-conscious. She is list-conscious.  When the movie starts at 5, I want to be in my seat by ten til.  For her, if the movie starts at 5, it doesn’t matter because she still needs to unload the dishwasher, finish the laundry and let the dog out one more time. I hate being late; she hates not getting things done now. As you can imagine, this is good fodder for conflict.  But the more I understand how much I need that balance, the more I am able to see it as a strength.

I can get the big things done, like changing careers and opening a restaurant. But for some reason I procrastinate on the little stuff, like keeping the garage organized, or cleaning out the gutters, or vacuuming out the car. On the other hand, Karen can plow through the to-do list like a hot knife through butter.  She dislikes the abstract, mental work that I get immersed in, and instead prefers the concrete, practical tasks that each day presents.  I need this balance, and value its worth more and more each day.  Too bad it took a crisis for me to discover.

As with most of my writing, I am my first audience.  I write to speak to myself, to clarify thoughts I’ve been mulling over.  In this way, this type of public musing makes me accountable for the change that I want to undergo.  Keeping it buried doesn’t create urgency.  I think I’m this way because I hate starting something I can’t finish.  It’s why I put things off until later. A half baked project is just a monument of all talk and no follow through to completion.

I’m not sure how this will play itself out into a measurable goal or resolution, but at least it provides the borders around which the ideas can grow.

Best of luck to you all in 2012.  May you bloom where you are planted.

This event filled up quickly last year, so I encourage you to make plans soon. We’ll set the table; you

New Year’s Eve

6PM and 8:30PM
40 dollars per person – 60 dollars w/ chef’s wine pairing
by reservation only
Call 402-438-2255

First
Spinach & Arugula Salad
-grana padano, dried cranberries, almonds, maple bacon vinaigrette
2007 Wolf Gewürztraminer Germany

Roasted Tomato & Corn Soup
-sourdough crostini, cilantro oil
2009 Abraxas White Blend California

Entrees
Plum Creek Farm Chicken in Lemongrass Curry
-butternut squash, wild rice, micro arugula
2010 Poet’s Leap Riesling Colombia Valley, Washington

Braised Beef Short Ribs
-Mushrooms, Roasted New Potatoes, Green Beans, Crispy Shallot
2009 The Prisoner Napa, California

Hickory Smoked Berkshire Pork Loin
-risotto, snow peas, black garlic
2007 Baileyana Pinot Noir Edna Valley, CA

Goat Cheese Tortellini
-dried tomato, pine nuts, scallions, shallot, garlic cream
2010 Docil Vinho Verde Portugal

Finish
Salted Caramel Toffee Custard
2005 Romieu-Lacoste Sauternes France

Dark Chocolate Ice Cream w/ Almond Tuile Cone
Norval Black ruby port / Rochefort 10

My industry certainly has its ups and down, but one thing that settles me and makes me glad is that at least you aren’t able to download a meal, nor does it appear that you will be anytime soon. The need for food is still a fundamental human requirement and there is no substitute for drawing together around a table to share conversation over simple food and drink.

It struck me the other day at how much change our current society must undergo just to stay conversant in the modern language of business and social interaction. The amount of irrelevant tasks and knowledge you and I have discarded would not be comprehended by a person living a hundred years ago.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, or if it’s just a thing, because I don’t imagine it will slow down anytime soon. But this constant reinvention of how I will carry out my daily life seems on the one hand unsustainable, and quite possibly, unfruitful. Consider these introductions and retirements of the recent past:

Landline/cell phone/smart phone – I remember getting my first cell phone about 13 years ago. It was huge, but novel at the time. It took me forever to master T9, and now that skill is irrelevant. When it dawned on us that every person in our household had a phone, we finally cancelled our landline service. We don’t even miss it or ever find ourselves needing it.

Facebook/Twitter – These are such recent phenomenons that even my tech savvy kids can tell me about the lame olden days before Facebook. The most common question I hear from people who don’t have an account with these two services is “Do I really need it?” I’ll address that below.

Online commerce – I seldom write checks anymore, nor send any kind of bill payment in the mail. It’s all done online. I make purchases weekly for supplies for my kitchen, for spice orders, for equipment parts, etc.

Texting – Are you like me and find yourself texting someone first to see if you can call them? Texting has changed the simple practice of talking on the phone.

Change is something every generation must address, Folks had to adapt to the motorcar when they probably thought the horse and buggy worked just fine. It just so happens that our generation is facing an overabundance of these same kinds of demands. The general rule I keep in mind is this: will I let these rule me or will I allow them to serve me?

I regularly take inventory here in this last month of the year as I look back over the goals I set for myself and my business. I see what I accomplished and what didn’t get done. And this year I include in this account an assessment of the invasiveness of technology. Where do I need to cordon off a boundary so that technology doesn’t creep past, like varmints into the henhouse? Here are a few technological boundaries I have set:

1. I refuse to do email on my phone. It does not need to have that kind of access to my immediate attention. The phone keeps me in contact, esp. in emergencies, like yesterday morning when my daughter called and said she was stuck on the ice. In this way, the phone serves me, not vice versa

2. Facebook – Do you need one or not? Again, ask the question, “Does it serve you, or are you its slave?” Karen had an account for a short time but eventually felt an obligation to it. When I reminded her it was OK to cancel it, and that life would return to normal, she was amazed at how quickly a person can get drawn into something so trivial.

3. Creating quiet space. How instinctive has it become to get in the car and turn on the radio out of habit rather than wanting to listen to a particular program or music? Or to turn on the TV or CD player at home to fill the silence? I am seeking more quiet space. I enjoy writing when it’s quiet. In this way, I can hear more.

http://youtu.be/S3P9R0MgVjA

My response to that question is to downplay the “have to” part and replace it with a “get to” part.

For me as a chef, there is a wide, blurry line between work and play. To understand this division concerning vocation and lifestyle, you only need to look at the books on my nightstand. Interspersed in the stack of well intentioned but unread novels and nonfiction are the most frequently perused cookbooks and food magazines. I’m sure some psychologist would attest that this is probably not healthy and would press for a more balanced focus on other interests and diversions, but truth be known, that’s just likely not in the DNA of one who loves to cook for a living.

I think this imbalance stems from the fact that the preparation of food and eating it is not first and foremost a vocation. For a person to know how to feed himself is a basic human impulse, and is something a child figures out very quickly when he learns how to pick up the Cheerios between two fingers and put them into his mouth. This child discovers the pleasure of such action and does not forget it. The act of eating is now established and can continue on for a lifetime.

But in the same way, the act of feeding others is similarly fundamental. Parents of young, finicky children recall the satisfaction of finally “getting that kid to eat.” When our children first showed signs of food aversion, we felt like failures as parents. We couldn’t succeed at something as basic as providing food that our child liked. What was wrong with us?

Nothing was wrong. We only had to learn how to feed them.

Eating and feeding. Simple, human actions with lifelong lessons attached.

In the beginning, we learn to eat simple, bland food. As we grow, we learn to eat more broadly. Eventually as we mature, we hear the call to learn how to eat healthier. In our latter years, as metabolism changes, we learn to eat less. Eating is an education and a wonderful one at that.

As a chef, I feed others with the same progression. I embrace that there are times in life that call for simple, mild sustenance, and at others, an elaborate feast. The occasional cheeseburger can be balanced with regular placement of greens and vegetables. In the practice of moderation and variety, I don’t deny anyone the right to indulge, especially myself. I can’t eat fried turkey and smoked ribs every day like I did on Thanksgiving Day, but I can do it once or twice a year. I learn how to feed others by what I am learning about feeding myself.

I love to cook and I love to eat, and hopefully I am daily getting better at both. My goal is to provide food that ultimately brings satisfaction, not just immediate relief.

If you asked ten chefs about his or her philosophy about buying and sourcing food locally, you would probably get ten different points of view. Likely you’ll find a little overlap on the Venn diagram, but opinions would vary from a commitment to using 100% of products sourced within an hour distance away, to the other extreme of only trying to catch and ride the wave of a trend that may or may not be here in 10 years. I don’t hold to a right or wrong position on the matter. I subscribe to a belief that free choices should lead to just that: freedom. Being free to choose what and how you eat hopefully will lead to the ability to enjoy that freedom even further. Eating should enhance the quality of our life, not diminish it.

It would be impossible to obtain all my food from local sources here in Nebraska. Our weather does not allow it, but even if it did, I would still run into the problem of supply. The greater the demand affects how much is available. Finding sources that will be capable of getting the adequate amount of product I need for my customers will most likely always be a challenge.

So I take the approach of developing what some call “local habit.” This means I have as a regular practice, the decision to buy locally when I can. If given the option of buying salad greens from a local grower or from a regional supplier, I will go with the local. I have the habit of buying pork and beef from guys who raise hogs and cattle in Elk Creek and David City. If they are out, I have to find another source that I trust. I have to be flexible with my philosophy if it is to be sustainable. If I held the position that I only served local, period, there would be many days I couldn’t sell a half the items on my menu. The more rigid my posture becomes, the more likely it is to snap. Trees survive the wind because they can move along with the currents.

But at the same time, sustainability also requires staying rooted. The tree can bend and sway because it goes down deep, keeping anchored and strong. Making local habit is a decision to which I can stay grounded in philosophy and ideal, and at the same time, gives me great pleasure in doing so.

Today I share some random lessons I’ve learned about opening and running a restaurant.

New or Used Equipment?  I outfitted my place with mostly used appliances.  eBay was a great source for finding exactly what I needed.  I found a seller in Kansas City that specialzed in restaurant liquidation, and he had new pieces listed every month.  We struck a deal where he would store the items I purchased from him over a 6 month period, then I drove down with a truck and picked them all up at once.  I saved thousands this way.  From another seller in SD I found a curved glass deli case for $200, but again, had to travel to pick it up, but the cost savings was worth it.  The downside?  It takes a lot of time to track down particular pieces of equipment.

To Buy or Lease Equipment?  When making this decision, you roll the dice on the durability of a new unit to save you on repair bills at the onset. With this in mind, I bought my bread oven and dishwasher new, thinking I did not want these two items to break down any time soon.  I love the oven and hate the dishwasher.  I probably have the repair guy look at the dishwasher every three months.  When I decided to get rid of my small icemaker, I chose to lease a larger unit. The peace of mind that comes from calling the leasing agent to fix it is part of the price tag that makes it worth it for me.

Hire a Service or Do It Yourself?  If you find yourself handy like me, you may feel the need to work on things yourself.  Sweat equity goes a long way in starting up a business, and in some ways, it can be fun and rewarding knowing you did it yourself.  I saved myself a bunch on the new west wall bench by building it myself.  It took me much longer than a carpenter, but the job got done at a fraction of the cost.

But there does come a time when you just need to call a person to take care of it.  At some point, your time becomes more valuable than the cost of the service.  As an entrepreneur, you will have to determine when to make that call, since you are accustomed to shaving down costs whenever possible.  If fixing things takes you away from the tasks that only you can do for the business, then hiring it done becomes essential.  I struggled with this one until the day I came in and was handed a list of things that needed fixed; sink drain leaking, restroom door lock won’t work, etc, etc.  All of it was stuff I am perfectly capable of doing, but which would take my focus away from more important matters.  My response: Can you just call someone, please?

What to buy?  There are countless decisions you have to make in stocking a kitchen, from plates to glassware, flatware, and smallwares. Containers, cups, pots and pans.  Some of this you learn the hard way by trying to save a buck and getting less expensive items.  Here are a few of my recommendations that I wish I knew before purchasing.  These are my opinions from my personal experience only.  I don’t get paid to endorse any of these.

Plates.  Your choices run the gamut here, but for about 6 bucks a plate, the Everyday White collection at Bed, Bath and Beyond has been our choice from day one.  We like the square shape and they have held up over the constant daily use.  There are comparable plates rated at commercial grade, but the cost can be double or triple. 

Kitchenaid.  When I first started, I bought their ProLine Mixer and Food Processor.  When both failed in the first month of use, I called their service department only to find out that Pro did not mean Pro, that it was only a consumer grade product.  I have a KA mixer at home and find that it works fine for periodic use, but not designed to take daily demands of a commercial kitchen.  Go ahead and spend the extra dollars for a Robot Coupe or Hobart stand mixer.  I can mix concrete in those two if in a pinch.

Riedel Stemware.  When the rep gave me the pitch on Riedel and all the research that went into the design, I admit I thought it was a little over the top.  But after using these glasses for four years now, I am hooked.  The shape of the bowl and the thinness of the rim both lead to greater enjoyment of the wine.
I can find cheaper stemware, but I’ll look for other places to trim costs.

I’ll add to this list in the future. If you are looking to open a restaurant, I’d love to dialogue with you and share more lessons.  If my experience can save you a few headaches, it would make it worth it.  You can contact me via this blog.

Good Luck.