That's What It's All About

The Careme Room was transformed overnight, and now instead of 2- and 4-tops, it's filled with long banquet tables that look like they'll each seat about 80 people. Preparations are underway for tonight's first Alumni Dinner, with an expected 320 CCA graduates in attendance. When Derrick arrived, he said the room reminded him of Hogwarts. All we need now is a naming hat on the dais (made from chocolate?)

Just before we were excused for the afternoon, Chef Weller came into the kitchen and called for our attention. He's the Executive Chef of the school and he's usually walking into class with a clipboard, ready to have a chat with a student about a disciplinary matter. He's a shoo-in for the "jolly old elf", except he's way too young and has no hair under his toque. Actually, he may be a Deadhead at heart -- I've seen him before class in a tie-dyed t-shirt, and he has a multicolored chef's coat hanging in his office.

His visit today was not related to academic matters. He wanted to "share part of his day" with us, with a teacher's intuition about finding the teaching moment at every opportunity. He entered the kitchen carrying a dinner plate, a bread-and-butter plate, and a tall skinny shot glass. The dishes have been rented for tonight's event, and he began by describing his dilemma. "When I left last night, my F&B manager told me that we'd be plating our entreés on this" (holding up the large plate), "and that we'd be using these" (he picked up the small one) "for appetizers, salad, and dessert." The assembled group of students groaned audibly: the plates are maybe five inches in diameter, and not the dish you'd select to make a dramatic statement with your food. And drama is important. Chef described tonight's audience, culinary professionals returning to their alma mater, with high expectations of being wow'd: "a tough crowd, indeed."

Chef informed us that he'd lost sleep last night over this plate issue, and he was only partially relieved when he was advised this morning that there were enough larger plates to accommodate all the dishes. "I needed to see for myself," he said, and he discovered that there were enough for three out of the four courses. "This is how great things happen," he said. "When an obstacle forces you to think creatively and you end up with something better than you'd imagined." He described how the salad course, a "deconstructed cioppino salad", would be served on the small plate: a swirl of caesar dressing ending in a small pile of microgreens; tomato water in the shot glass in the center of the plate, topped by a crostini spread with tomato-zinfandel jam and a dollop of crab salad. "It's a dish that has to be pre-set," he said. "A waiter could not carry it two feet. But our guests will come down from the mezzanine, where they've been enjoying cocktails, into a room set with hundreds of these 'sculptures'. It'll be awesome." His excitement was palatable. "That's what I love about this job," he said.