Also by Susan Crowther
The No Recipe Cookbook
The Vegetarian Chef
Lifestyles for Learning
Copyright © 2017 by Susan Crowther
Foreword copyright © 2017 by Thomas Keller
Afterword copyright © 2017 by Raimund Hofmeister, CMC
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
ISBN: 978-1-51072-800-4
eISBN: 978-1-51072-801-1
Cover design by Jenny Zemanek
Cover photo by Tom McCann
Printed in the United States of America
To Bill Tyler, for giving me my first dishwashing job.
To Chef Pierre Latuberne, in gratitude.
Thank you to the following chefs and colleagues of Roland Henin who contributed to the creation of this project:
Peter Afouxinedes
Larry Banares
William Bennett
Jill Bosich, CEC
Beth Brown, PCII
Edward Brown, AOS
Mary Burich
David Burke, AOS
Adolfo Calles, CCC
Nick Catlett, CEC
Mike Colameco, AOS
David Coombs
Alex Darvishi
Ron DeSantis, CMC
Kevin Doherty, PCIII, CEC
Jerry Dollar
Mark Erickson, CMC
Susan Ettesvold, CEPC
John Fisher
Andrew Friedman
Steve Giunta, CMC
Christopher Gould
Scott Green
Hartmut Handke, CMC
James Hanyzeski, CMC
Dawn Hedges, CSC
Raimund Hofmeister, CMC
Dan Hugelier, CMC
Larry Johnson, CEC
David Kellaway, CMC
Thomas Keller
Keith Keogh
Ambarish Lulay
Chris Matta
Lawrence McFadden, CMC
Kenneth McNamee
David Megenis, CMC
Steve Mengel
Ferdinand Metz, CMC
Ashley Miller
Mark Mistriner
Colin Moody, PCII, CEC
Jeffrey Mora
Lou Piuggi
Franz Popperl
Richard Rosendale, CMC
Kevin Ryan
Scott Steiner
Dan Thiessen
Brad Toles
Lynne Toles
Randy Torres, PCIII, CEC
Juan Carlos Velez
Percy Whatley, PCIII, CEC
Brian Williams
Pam Williams
Jon Wilson, CEC
Contents
Foreword by Thomas Keller
Prologue
Introduction: How Good Could the Guy Actually Be?
Navigating the River
Out to Sea
Swimming Upstream
The Executive Chef
The General
The Coach
The Director
The Judge
The Big Catch
The Corporate Chef
The Fork in the River
The Salmon Run
What Cost, a God?
Death of the Master Chef?
Certified Master Chefs
Guarding the Eggs: The Legacy of Roland G. Henin
Four Months Before the CMC Exam
One Month Before the CMC Exam
2014 CMC Examination
The True Legacy of Roland G. Henin
2009 CIA Graduation Speech
What’s Wrong with This Picture?
Afterword by Certified Master Chef Raimund Hofmeister
Epilogue
Photos
The Interviews
The Executive Chef
Thomas Keller
Steve Mengel
Jerry Dollar
The General: Culinary Institute of America
David Burke
Mike Colameco
Edward Brown
Lou Piuggi
Pamela Williams
The Coach: Team USA, Culinary Olympics
Larry Banares
Jeffrey Mora
Franz Popperl
Keith Keogh
Kevin L. Ryan
Kevin Doherty
Andrew Friedman
The Director: The Art Institute of Seattle
Dan Thiessen
John Fisher
Brian Williams
The Judge: American Culinary Federation
Jill Bosich
Susan Ettesvold
Randy Torres
The Corporate Chef: Delaware North
Percy Whatley
William Bennett
Ambarish Lulay
Colin Moody
Mary Burich
Larry Johnson
Scott Green
Jon Wilson
Chris Gould
Beth Brown
Ashley Miller
Dawn Hedges; Nick Catlett; Juan Carlos Valdez; Aldofo Calles
Certified Master Chefs
Dan Hugelier
Steve Giunta
Raimund Hofmeister
Ron DeSantis
Rich Rosendale
Foreword
by Thomas Keller
In all professions without doubt, but certainly in cooking one is a student all his life.
—Fernand Point
Like a lot of people in our profession, I began my culinary education at a young age, and I’ve had many teachers along the way. But there’s only one teacher I call my mentor, the person who has done more than any other to make me the chef I am today.
I first crossed paths with Master Chef Roland G. Henin in the summer of 1977. I was twenty-one and working as a cook at the Dunes Club in Narragansett, Rhode Island. Roland was executive chef. At that point in my life, what appealed to me most about cooking was the physicality of it. It required strength, stamina, and quickness. It was an exhilarating challenge, like being part of a sports team. You were always competing, either with your fellow cooks or with the orders. Very often, you were up against both.
Then, as now, I was an energetic cook. But I lacked direction. There was no broader purpose to what I did, no overarching vision. With a few words from Chef Henin, that all changed. We were in the kitchen together when Chef Henin summed it up: There is a reason that cooks cook. And that reason is to nurture people. That observation sounds so fundamental to me now. But at the time, it struck me with the force of a revelation. Yes, cooking was physical. But it was also emotional, a conduit for human connection. We cook to nurture. To make people happy. To create lasting memories around a meal. Chef Henin’s words became my guiding principle, the foundation of everything I try to do.
Of course, there were many other lessons from that summer. I was the low man in the kitchen hierarchy, often tasked with the rudiments of pr
eparing staff meals. What Chef Henin taught me about French technique could nearly fill a textbook. As patient as he was stern, he encouraged repetition and a keen attention to detail, the better to gain mastery over all the steps. To this day, I wouldn’t say I’ve perfected hollandaise—or anything else in the kitchen—because there is no such thing as perfection. But you can strive for perfection through perseverance, and find joy in the process. Chef Henin helped me discover that joy.
Chef Henin also gave me my second cookbook (my mother gave me my first), Ma Gastronomie by Fernand Point, the late, great chef of La Pyramide in Vienne, France. It was not so much a recipe book as a book about a man and his commitment to a restaurant: a deep, enriching book about the life of a chef. It’s a book that I still use and give to all young cooks.
In 2008, when I was fortunate enough to contribute a forward to a new edition of Ma Gastronomie, I asked Chef Henin what had prompted him to give me a copy all those years ago. He said that there were times when he’d watch me in the kitchen and notice how content I seemed, that regardless of whether I was having a good day or a bad day, it looked like I belonged. That sense of belonging has carried me through many chapters of my life, and I’m grateful to Chef Henin for that gift.
I could go on. My relationship with Chef Henin is deeply personal. But I am far from the only person in the culinary world who owes him a debt of gratitude. Chef Henin’s influence is too vast to measure. But in the wonderful book you now hold in your hands, Susan Crowther gives us a sense of its dimension. Like me, Susan learned at Chef Henin’s side. And here she offers intimate accounts of fifty others who did the same. Each chapter helps round out a portrait of the man I’m proud to call my mentor and the many hats he has worn through the years—from his tenure as an instructor at the Culinary Institute of America (where he was fondly known as the General) to his role as a coach for the American team at the 2009 Bocuse d’Or, an international culinary competition, the significance of which is hard to overstate.
The Bocuse d’Or is not about individual achievement. It is a team event, meant to elevate respect for our entire profession. Its impact is global, but it has been felt especially keenly here in the United States. I have been blessed in my career and have received many honors. But none was greater than what I enjoyed as president of this year’s gold medal–winning team at the Bocuse d’Or, held in Lyon, France. At that moment, as ever, I was merely following a path blazed by my mentor. It is only fitting that proceeds from this book will go to the Ment’or Foundation supporting young culinarians and Team USA.
Forty years ago, when I was young and eager and wholly inexperienced, just getting my start at the Dunes Club, I never could have imagined the future that awaited. Chef Henin opened my eyes to the possibilities and guided me toward them. This past year in France, as I stood beside Team USA, singing the national anthem, holding the golden Bocuse aloft, my heart swelled and my mind flooded with thoughts of Chef Henin. He was with me then, just as he always was from the beginning, just as he has been for so many others.
I think I speak for all of Chef Henin’s mentees when I say that I can never fully repay all that he has given me. But I’ve long made it my business to try to measure up by offering whatever guidance I can to others. In short: by being a mentor. It’s the very least that I can do.
—Thomas Keller, Chef/Proprietor, The French Laundry
Prologue
The Salmon Run
Cooking is an accumulation of details done to perfection.
—Fernand Point
The Pacific salmon is a peculiar creature. Their entire lives are driven by one specific goal. While each species has adapted its own particular set of rules, all salmon share a common life cycle.
Salmon eggs are deposited in the river where their parents were born. Baby salmon briefly receive nourishment from the yolk sac but soon have to fend for themselves. After receiving this nourishment, young ones emerge from their birthplace, begin swimming freely, and seek food for the first time. They live here for two years, developing survival skills; navigating river currents; “schooling,” or traveling in unison; instinctually hiding from danger.
Abruptly, young salmon undergo an extreme and dynamic shift: a physiological change occurs that prevents salt from being absorbed into their bloodstream. This unique adaptation enables salmon to live in salt water—actually, to be more precise, the change forces them to leave the relative safety of their homes and venture outward. Young adults begin their migration down the river and into the ocean, spreading themselves widely among the open waters. During this time, they complete their full transformations in size, physical appearance, and behavior. They will spend years in the ocean, slowly … steadily … preparing.
When adults reach full maturity, it is time: salmon make the long, arduous journey back to the rivers where they were born. Their whole lives lead to this. Most adults seek their native lands, but some never return home; instead, they travel to nearby, and sometimes far away, waters. It is important that some adults stray from their home; otherwise, new habitats would not be colonized.
The salmon run is one of nature’s great, weird migrations. Life energy gained in the ocean is used for one purpose: to spawn. Salmon must fully develop in the ocean and build up reserves, for, once adults re-enter the river, they stop investing in the maintenance of their bodies. They instinctively persist, and their journey proves ultimately fatal.
There are a few theories why this is: 1) Transformation kills. Adult salmon have adapted to saltwater life, and, therefore, returning to freshwater destroys them. Their cells are unable to adjust to the change, or more accurately, unable to re-adjust. 2) Exhaustion kills. Swimming upstream—flipping their bodies in the air and hurling themselves against the downward flowing water—is no easy feat. From the perspective of natural selection, only the strongest (and, perhaps, luckiest) survive. 3) Starvation kills. Once they hit the river, salmon stop eating. Out of those that successfully return, up to 95 percent of them simply die of hunger. Whatever the reason, salmon that survive the ordeal are unable to make it back to the ocean.
Why travel out to sea if they are going to return to the river? Why leave the ocean if the journey home is what kills them? Can’t they just grow up where they are born? Well, not exactly. The ocean provides things unavailable in the river, including valuable nutrients such as trace minerals. When adult salmon die and decompose, their ocean-rich remains provide nutrition for their babies, the plants, and insects. These plants and insects, in turn, provide nutrition for maturing salmon, thus preparing them for their journey out to sea, where they will gather more nutritional riches to bring back to their homeland. The cycle continues.
Nature has provided a cruel but successful adaptation: with no chance of survival, adults devote their resources to the quest, sacrificing themselves in the process. They take bigger risks along the way upstream. Minor injuries won’t have a chance to become infected because the salmon are not going to be around long enough. The salmon’s journey focuses on one goal, a race against time that ends in a singular moment.
Salmon give it their all, create life, and then die.
Introduction
How Good Could the Guy Actually Be?
Well … with all of this hysteria related to foods in America—some good and some bad—it was bound to finally happen. Someone in this country just wrote a fabulous book about foods and what is the most important part of the cooking process … No Recipe Cookbook or cooking without recipes. What a “novel” idea! And from Susie Crowther, a former student, on top of that … simply amazing!
Yes, I say “finally,” because the last one in existence—as far as I know, the only one that has ever existed—was written in the 1960s by an extraordinary chef: Ma Gastronomie, by Fernand Point, Chef Owner of La Pyramide in Vienne, in the suburb of Lyon. La Pyramide was, in Chef Point’s day, possibly one of the best restaurants in the world and where many of the “Bocuse Gang” famous chefs did their apprenticeships.
/> I sat stunned, reading the email from Master Chef Roland G. Henin. Chef had responded to my “book blurb request” with a 650-word essay, which immediately became the foreword for The No Recipe Cookbook: A Beginner’s Guide to the Art of Cooking. I hadn’t expected to receive a reply to my inquiry, much less an actual book blurb. Yet, here I sat, reading his response that compared my writing and culinary philosophy to Fernand Point’s. It was completely overwhelming, and I exploded. Tears streamed down my face. I must have been howling for some time because my husband oddly inquired, “Are you okay?” In a blubbering mess, I sputtered out an explanation.
In the spring of 1983, just before entering the Culinary Institute of America (CIA), my parents invited me to accompany them on a month-long trip to Europe. My father had a conference in Paris, and in a fit of altruism, believed I ought to experience a few “two- and three-star Michelins” before entering culinary school. I was thrilled. We dined at Tour d’Argent and La Pyramide. Tour d’Argent was exquisite, but so polished and intimidating for a young American. A dozen waiters attended to our table of three. One male waiter dressed in full tails escorted me to the bathroom, waited outside the door until I finished, and escorted me back to my table. The meticulous attention to detail bordered on creepy.
Then we visited La Pyramide, and my life changed forever. Natural, comfortable, impeccable—the freshest, most flavorful and balanced tastes—simply, the most delightful meal I’d ever experienced. I had no idea such dining existed. Each bite sang in my mouth. I smiled the entire time. The amazing part was how relaxed we felt: so unpretentious and welcoming were the food and its people. I loved who I was in its ambience.
To be discussed in connection with the creator of La Pyramide—my greatest dining experience—was surreal. But to have this praise come from Roland Henin … this was the greatest moment of my life.
* * *
The last time I had spoken with Roland Henin had been thirty years prior to that email. In the week before graduation, Chef had passed me in the hall and inquired where I would be working. I remember eking out a pathetic reply: “Uh, Chef, I’m still searching for a position.” He stopped, glared impatiently, and then immediately turned around, gesturing with a grunt. I followed him to his office. Chef picked up the phone and dialed a number. Within seconds, he was speaking French in a loud and gregarious voice. After a few minutes, he hung up, wrote something down on a piece of paper, and handed it to me. He finally spoke. “Take zees. You start next week.” I looked down at the paper. On it he wrote: Café du Parc, Lake Park, Florida. Pierre Latuberne. By the time I looked up to thank him, he was gone.
Roland G. Henin: 50 Years of Mentoring Great American Chefs Page 1