Every Job I've Ever Had
Recipe: Chicken Marsala Ragù
Friendly’s, 2007: My East Coasters will know this establishment well. Although, is Friendly’s popular today/relevant? (drop a comment) First, I’d like to apologize to the large cambro of M&M’s that I continually depleted in the walk-in from my own consumption. I waited tables one weekend and forgot to bring straws with the drinks. I also didn’t pull in many tips and needed a lot of support. I was thrown onto the ice cream station, the only order I did well was the sundae that looked like a clown. In case you’re wondering, one scoop of vanilla ice cream, two orange Reece’s Pieces for eyes, a brown one for a nose, an inverted sugar cone for a hat and whipped cream rosettes on the side. See photo below. I didn’t last a month at Friendly’s, I believe I no call/no showed too. Yikes.
Food Network, 2008: A part of attending culinary school is the externship. I procrastinated and put my cards towards getting in at The Food Network. They had limited availability and needed to fill one more slot. My dorm neighbor and friend, Tim, mentioned how stressful the interview was and he missed a few of their sneaky tactics to see if you’re paying attention. He told me all of them and I went in fully prepared to catch them for my interview.
I got the job and started out in the test kitchen working on Food Network Magazine, their first issue. We were test shooting a bunch of images for the publisher and it was my responsibility to upload them to the office’s internal drive. A window popped up and I hit cancel and every photo we had worked on for the first recipes of the first issue were gone. Poof. I was quickly moved to production for shows and had my headset privileges revoked after laughing too much at the producer making fun of the talent. I was quite naughty, but I made great family meals.
Caterina de Medici, 2009-2010: I had no interest in working in the front of house until I was quickly taken in by a gay coven that runs the restaurant, Caterina de Medici at The Culinary Institute of America. There was drama, there were tears, there was also an abundance of storytelling and truth seeking I found to be therapeutic. I was naive to know that all the fun stops after culinary school, but I became hooked on the Front of the House. As it was demonstrated to me, not everyone is gifted at caring for people, you either have it or you don’t.
Random Catering Gigs while in Culinary School, 2008-2010: I discovered I love carrot ginger soup, both warm and chilled. At Millbrook Winery we’d often receive a bottle of wine as a parting gift. I climbed a stack of 8-top round tables, plopped the complimentary bottle of wine down and looked Kristy Bavaro (from Queens, represent) right in the eyes, squatting over the bottle and said, “Now let me teach you something your mother never taught you.” There was a gig we worked at Mashomack where I helped set up a bar, passed some canapés and listened to my three friends bicker for the whole time. We smoked Marlboro Lights on the way home.
Per Se, 2010-2012: I tell people this was my first job. It’s the first job I cared about. Food Network was an internship and everything else was a temporary salve to help get me through culinary school. I felt confident heading into work on my first day and every day after that my confidence dwindled. I was twenty, eager, obsessive about odd bits of the job and rarely focused on the big picture. When I was there my photo was front and center during the New York Times review. Looking back, they definitely took a risk hiring me. I was smart but I hadn’t developed the restaurant acumen to survive the biting sarcasm. I needed better shoes, and a therapist.
Chez Panisse, 2012: I felt I had ascended Mt. Olympus of the restaurant world too quickly and thirsted for something more casual. I moved in June of 2012 to the Bay Area. I loved it initially when I got there. At this point in my career, I was convinced that I could get any job I applied for because Food Network, Per Se and Chez Panisse were all my first choices. I never had a Plan B for anything. I experienced major upset in my mid-twenties after this magical thinking.
Chez Panisse was everything. Decent pay, great benefits, exquisite family meal and a rotating staff of funny/quirky people. It is one of the perfect places to work, if you’re satisfied with your life and what you’re doing outside of work. If you’re ambitious or looking to climb the ladder, it’s not the best fit. I was young and had an inflated sense of self and thirsted to rise in order to feel valued. I peaked working in the restaurant downstairs. After six months at Chez Panisse and a slew of moody shifts, I learned that it would take five years to become a waiter. I handed in my notice to move to Napa.
The French Laundry, 1st time, 2012-2015: I settled into Yountville, CA in November around the time of Thanksgiving. I was staying with a friend and previous colleague from Per Se. I remember scrounging around the town picking up interesting foliage for a tablescape. We wrote name tags and reminisced about New York. Within a few weeks, I found a new place to live with a baker at Bouchon. She worked the overnight bake and would get home around 8 AM. There was the rare occasion my adrenaline was so high our schedules would overlap. We had black mold in the house and begged to get it taken care of. The place was a complete dump. In fact, we ended up squatting in the house because they wouldn’t fix anything. The scary part were all the times we were approached with strangers trying to serve us papers.
The baker and I moved in with a man battling his alcohol addiction/my co-worker/friend. This wouldn’t be my last roommate with alcoholism. We had a good time in the condo we rented. I lived on the “third floor” which was a loft with a ladder I had to ascend and descend everyday. Yes, I did hook up in the loft. During my first tenure at The French Laundry I pranked so many people with a little Vaudevillian crew I had come to enjoy working with. Our classic prank was hiding underneath the table because the skirts were floor length so you couldn’t see the table itself. We’d snag a fellow staff member to “help” move a table. Then one of us would grab their leg from below sending them into shock followed by profanity and shrieking. After a week of successful pranks there was an earthquake, the end all be all of pranks, naturally we stopped after that.
Trois Mec, 2015-2016: Moving to Los Angeles was on a whim during The French Laundry’s closure to renovate the kitchen. Shifts were getting cut and I volunteered to depart. I came into my time at Trois Mec during a lot of trauma. The general manager had taken his life a month prior to me working there. The week I was hired the general manager of Petit Trois backed the company Jeep right into the façade of Trois Mec. It was a mess and the mood was low. Before service each day we’d pump 90’s hip hop/rap, it was a restaurant staple all over Los Angeles.
Services were usually sold out nightly. I worked there with my delightful friend Leah. Leah and I were the ring leaders of the Vaudevillian crew at The French Laundry. Within weeks we were already forming bits, i.e. creating new wine varietals and writing them on the whiteboard to say what was low/86’d. The board would read, “Low: Sparkling Grüner Rosé, Vouvray Rouge, Malbec Pet Nat, Belgian Sémillon.” All of this would be featured next to a photo of fat Batman. Long live the white chocolate mashed potatoes, IYKYK.
Jon and Vinny’s, (Fairfax) 2015: I was looking for part time work. Jon and Vinny’s needed a barista for the morning shift. I worked a few shifts with Helen (partner of Jon and Vinny) at Trois Mec during a managerial transition and she said I should come check it out and see if it’s something I wanted to do. I didn’t understand how casual restaurants work. The vibe was fun and in those early days Jon and Vinny were on the line training and making sure everyone was up to speed. The office was in an unfurnished attic above the restaurant. Within two weeks there were so many changes to the menu, changes to the staff, changes in management, I knew I could slip out gracefully without anyone holding a grudge. The one song that comes to mind when I think about Jon and Vinny’s is “Truffle Butter” by Nicki Minaj featuring Drake and Lil Wayne.
Californios, 2016-2017: After really blowing it in Los Angeles, I needed to go back to my roots. Charlotte, a friend of mine from the OG Vaudevillian crew at The French Laundry opened a restaurant with her family called Californios. In the heart of the Mission in San Francisco this little gem would grow to earn two Michelin stars. I couldn’t make San Francisco work though. I was living in the Outer Sunset underneath a staircase (Harry Potter style) and it broke me. I was a full late-twenties mess avoiding taking accountability at every turn. I was so embarrassed by my behavior and my second chance that I vowed to take things a bit more seriously.
The French Laundry, 2nd time, 2017-2020: Personal thank you to Michael Minnillo for making this happen. I did see this as my second chance. My opportunity to do restaurant work right. I came in with no enemies, I managed to keep it that way too. I’d joyfully wander around helping where I could, my jokes were light and goofy, dare I say I was having more fun? I used to oscillate between super serious and clowning. My second tenure had more balance.
I moved three times, I stopped drinking (1st attempt), I was promoted to management, it was really an all-time high. The two and half years spent working at The French Laundry leading up to the pandemic were challenging but rewarding at the same time. I traveled to Sydney, Bangkok, Tokyo, Paris, Berlin, London (twice), Milan, Copenhagen (twice), Amsterdam and a few beats to the east coast. Then the pandemic happened and shifted my perspective on what I wanted to do with my life. Also, a pandemic is a wonderful opportunity to move and try something else.
Noma, 2020 (two week trail): I won a scholarship offered by The French Laundry. I wrote an essay about how noma 2.0 was somehow still a part of the conversation in a deeper and more meaningful way sustaining their awards and accolades after inhabiting a new home. I wanted to observe and inquire about how Europeans work in restaurants and consider a global hospitality mindset towards sustainability and employee retention. I used the scholarship money for an Airbnb and I had two friends stay with me while I was working in Copenhagen. It was a brilliant move to max out my time.
Day one, I was given a station, no training manual, nothing. I worked as a serving assistant on the floor, marking tables, pouring water, clearing tables and running food. They’re not kidding when it comes to work. The closing duties would include oiling all the wood service pieces, reapplying adhesive to anything loose, sharpening daggers and untying leather hoops attached to the napkins. I considered working here, but after being yelled at by the head chef, (not René Redzepi) I was like nah, I’m good.
Dunton Hot Springs, 2020: My friend Seth had been helping run Dunton for a while and she invited me to come and see what it was all about in April of 2020. She was motivated to get things back up and running in a timely manner in accordance with Colorado state law. She was assembling a bare bones team to reopen the resort. We were at 9000 ft elevation at the base of El Diente peak. The air was thin and acclimation was challenging. I often felt foggy, delusional and lost. But wasn’t that everyone’s experience from the pandemic in general? At Dunton, I was trying to survive. I met a brilliant friend who was a master with anything wheat (miss you Jordan).
There was a COVID outbreak at Dunton and I remember sitting in the oxblood Mercedes in an automobile queue to get swabbed aggressively. Most of the kitchen team had COVID and then I cooked for a week with Seth and four others. It was so much fun (I’m serious). Dunton was the only job I had where I screamed at someone. A drunk woman refused to leave the saloon for curfew and I flipped. I miss the late night dips in the natural hot spring in the dead of winter. I’d go with someone, light a fire and soak in the magnesium rich waters in the vibrancy of the clear western sky. Actual bliss amidst an anxious time.
Atomix, 2021: I was the brought on as the AGM. I struggled to understand the wants/needs of the restaurant. I didn’t feel I could be myself here so I left in five months.
King, 2021-2022: I had a blast being a waiter here. The regulars were quirky with their interests and careers. King conjured a fascinating crowd of people in fashion, art, design, finance, hospitality and performance. You could speak in a poetic manner about the menu. The kitchen team were stewards of ancestral methods of cooking. The menu changed everyday with each chef’s perspective. The menu meeting was my favorite time to discuss ingredients and preparation. I’m so thankful for King. The restaurant changed the way I cook and how I want to eat. By the time I left I had been promoted to AGM and this would be my last foray with management. I capped the experience off with an upstate trip with two regulars from King (now friends). We took mushrooms and I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t manage again, I had something more to give.
Chez Ma Tante, 2022-2023: I almost worked at Chez Ma Tante before working at King. Something was different the second time I interviewed. The new manager, Emma, really understood my career trajectory and made me feel that being a waiter and taking a step back was healthy. I loved working at Chez Ma Tante. It’s a true neighborhood restaurant. Like clockwork we’d see the same individuals arrive at the restaurant and then we’d also get in a batch of oddballs testing everyone's patience. Collectively we just wanted to get it done and get out of there.
Sailor, 2024-2025: What a special little restaurant. I came in towards the beginning and left before a major renovation. It was a huge pleasure to work with Gabe Stulman, April Bloomfield, Skylar Mosca, Luke Sullivan and Betty Hurley (if you don’t know these names, you should). Sailor was the first and maybe only restaurant experience I had where the front of house employees were friends with the back of the house. The community was small but mighty. We’d roll deep to a coworkers play staged in an apartment south of Prospect Park. A crew of eight deep rolled up to one of my improv shows. The feel good energy was rich and nourishing for the soul, I suppose there is a reason why the company is called, “Happy Cooking Hospitality.”
Fettuccine with Chicken Marsala Ragù
Italian-American classics offer comfort in the darkest days of winter. My desire was to create a sauce, rich and complex with a suggestion of depth and efficiency in mind. Welcome, chicken Marsala ragù. Chicken thighs caramelize in a dutch oven creating a base for thinly sliced cremini mushrooms to be cooked in. In a stroke of genius I remembered that soy sauce bolsters the natural umami in mushrooms, while fish sauce heightens meatiness. I’ve replaced any cream or starchy roux with crème fraîche. A generous amount of black pepper at the end rounds everything out and I insist on serving the pasta with a wedge of lemon countering the absence of daylight.
serves 4
ingredients
1.5 lb boneless skinless chicken thighs, patted dry (about six)
3 T unsalted butter
2 T extra virgin olive oil
10 oz cremini mushrooms, thinly sliced
1 large shallot, minced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
