Professional chefs have the reputation of being any combination of the following: moody, bossy, perfectionists, demanding, fun, and creative. I’ve worked around and with enough to know that most display some or all of these qualities on any given day or night at work. It’s really the nature of the beast. A good or great chef must be creative and demanding of himself as well as his staff in order to create greatness. But, it’s the personality and character behind the beast that really mandates any chef’s behavior in the kitchen.
Thus, it was wonderfully fun and enlightening to witness so many nationally recognized chefs at work in the demonstration kitchen prep tent during last weekend’s BB&T Charleston Food & Wine Festival. This year, as in the four years since the festival’s debut, I’ve had the pleasure and honor to work as an assistant to visiting chefs preparing for their respective cooking demonstrations. Tasks can be as humbling as fetching ice and ramekins and as fascinating as assisting with chopping and organizing assorted mise en place. But, perhaps most fascinating of all was observing the chefs mannerisms, style and manners at work. Here’s how it panned out for some of the visiting chefs I worked with and/or was able to observe:
Bobby Flay (Mesa Grill, Bar American, Bobby Flay Steak and Bobby’s Burger Palace):
The Food Network darling and celebrated grill master needs virtually no introduction and was the headliner chef for the event. His demonstration was all about making the perfect burger. He strolled quietly and confidently into the prep tent about one hour before his demo in sun glasses, a blue jacket and khakis. He looked like the boy next door and quickly made greetings and shook hands (including mine) before getting to work with the blushing, young Trident Technical College assistant that was assigned to work with him. He struck me as being very businesslike and task oriented – as if this wasn’t his first rodeo. Midway through his demonstration, his assistant flew breathlessly and flushed into the tent in search of Dijon mustard requested by Mr. Flay. Fat Hen’s Fred Neuville (who oversaw the cooking competition) was able to rustle it up for her and on went the show. After that, I saw Flay strolling the grounds from time to time, making introductions or greeting various chefs. Other than that, the low-key, hard-working pro stayed hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, as if to avoid fans, fanfare and autographs.
Brian O’Donohoe (Primehouse New York)
O’Donohoe’s resume includes working for six years under Eric Ripert’s four-star and hyper celebrated Le Bernadin and working as executive chef at one of New York’s best restaurants. For a chef of his elevated stature, O’Donohoe was remarkably down-to-earth. In fact, he was by far the most down-to-earth and relaxed of any of the chefs I worked with over the weekend. With his boyish good looks and broad smile, he basically created his own mis en place and prep sheet, occasionally asking for a whisk here or a bowl there. He insisted on carrying all or most of his stuff to and from the grill tent which was located a good five minute walk away from the demo tent. If this chef is spoiled or temper mental, he doesn’t act like it. His knife and organizational skills were those of a well-seasoned, French classical professional, even if he looks (and he looks good, ladies) barely thirty years old.
Frank Stitt (Highlands Bar & Grill, Bottega, Bottega Cafe and Chez Fonfon)
You have got to love a guy that brings his teenage daughter along with him to prepare for a demonstration. Both diminutive, soft-spoken, and polite, they made for an endearing team. I worked with both of them while they put together the ingredients for a bocatini, clams and greens pasta dish he was preparing to showcase as a recipe from his latest book, Frank Stitt’s Bottega Favorita: A Southern Chef’s Love Affair with Italian Food. Despite the fact that we couldn’t find ramekins, the planned rapini ingredient was limp, and that it took a while to track down a whole head of garlic, Stitt maintained his cool and calm, while gently persisting the importance of having each on hand. Eventually, we forgot the ramekins, substituted collards for the rapini and purloined the garlic from the competition stage. At the demo tent, Stitt lined up his ingredients in the precise order they would be needed in a restrained, gentlemanly and persistent manner. He personally thanked me afterwards for my help and even threw in a warm, fatherly hug for good measure. He and his daughter were discussing their afternoon plans, which included attending a yoga class together in Mount Pleasant. That’s what I call good karma.