The Kitch Lit Series: Visual Edition, Round 2

A discerning diner I am not. I admit it. I love pizza and macaroni and I eat PB&J for lunch every day. I have only recently become acquainted with fine dining thanks to 801 Chophouse. While I ate my first meal at 801 a light bulb literally went off in my head, so that is what properly prepared meat tastes and chews like? Generally speaking, my taste in culinary entertainment is similar to my taste in food itself. Plain and simple is good enough for me. Spring Baking Championship? I’ll take it. America’s Test Kitchen? I’d love to pretend that I’ll whip up that recipe. Top Chef? Yes, please. And then I was introduced to Netflix’s Chef’s Table, the 801 Chophouse to my homemade pizza pie. Exquisitely simple, Chef’s Table will open your eyes to new ways to think about what we eat, how we eat and the chefs who imagine the possibilities.

Chef’s Table profiles one chef in each episode, all at the cutting edge of their field and at the top of their game. Most of these Chefs operate restaurants that are among the best in the world, some awarded multiple Michelin stars. The appeal of Chef’s Table lies in its’ minimalism. The show employs a beautifully simple documentary style: the chef telling their origin story and a couple of critics or fellow chefs explaining their influence on the culinary field intercut with passages of their work in a kitchen creating dishes. 

With breathtaking cinematography, not just of the food but of the locales as well, Chef’s Table forces you to consider food as more than sustenance and dining as more than simply the exercise of eating. Whether it be in Peru, Slovenia, New Zealand or right down the road in Chicago, you will be astounded by what chefs are doing with food. Virgilio Martinez uses natural ingredients from Peru to create dishes based on the region and altitude from which the ingredients originated. Ana Ros uses similarly natural ingredients from her native Slovenia. Ivan Orkin perfects the deceptively complex and layered Japanese ramen dish. And then there are the edible balloons from the mind of Grant Achatz. Edible balloons, people. I know, it’s hard to comprehend. Google it.

The road to becoming a chef was different for all of these men and women. Some knew from a young age that pursuing a career in culinary arts was their only desired course. Others are self-taught. For some, cooking was a means to an end, a way to travel or secure a green card. As varied as their backgrounds are, the singular similarity between these chefs is absolutely striking: they have found their calling. Rarely in life do we identify a singular passion. Even more rarely do we get the chance to live it every day. These chefs did and do, and it radiates from their being. And more than just enjoying cooking, the chefs love and appreciate the effect of cooking and eating together and the emotional connections it has the power to create.

Their other commonality: an innate willingness. Whether it is trying new ingredients, techniques or plating, or perfecting the perfect dough (even if it takes hundreds of loaves), these chefs are relentless in their willingness to do. Obsession and perfection are common themes. 

All of the enthusiasm poured out thus far has been without mention of the chefs' fascinating, often incredibly humbling, personal stories. And though my Midwestern sensibilities lead me to believe that I would likely be ready for some dinner after enjoying a meal at one of these incredible restaurants - I seem to have the metabolism of Pizza Rat - not to mention the fact that some of the dishes are so stunning that it seems a shame to ruin the composition by eating it, the prospect of dining at one of these restaurants is what dreams are made of.

The Kitch Lit Series: Visual Edition

Kitchens of the Great Midwest may have sparked my interest in kitch lit but Danny Meyer’s Setting the Table fanned the flame into a bonfire. After I read Meyer’s book on hospitality in the restaurant industry, books in the kitch lit genre were exclusively on my nightstand for many months thereafter.

Now many moons later, flipping through Netflix and, what a surprise, being fed a lot of Netflix’s original series (let’s be real, Netflix is the real puppet master in this world) I came upon the series 7 Days Out. This documentary series highlights the preparation and logistics of some of the biggest events in the world. The first episode, bizarrely intriguing, follows the lead up to the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. A unique brand of folks to say the least, but hey, whatever floats your boat -er, fluffs the coat on your show dog. The second episode of 7 Days Out seems to have been written for me, for episode two features the last minute flurry of activities surrounding the reopening of one of the country's greatest restaurants, Eleven Madison Park. 

In 1998, Eleven Madison Park was opened by Meyer’s Union Square Hospitality Group, and in 2011, Will Guidara and Chef Daniel Humm purchased the restaurant from Meyer. In 2017, Guidara and Humm closed Eleven Madison Park  from June to October. for extensive renovations and a menu overhaul. The episode focuses on the seven days before their reopening. 7 Days Out confirms what so many successful – and unsuccessful – restaurateurs have learned: the restaurant industry is not for the faint of heart. Opening or reopening a restaurant is an incredible feat. Physical aspects of the kitchen and dining room must combine flawlessly with staffing, process and, oh, the small matter of actually executing the actual dishes.

To say I find it all fascinating is an understatement. Successful stress management is on abundant display at Eleven Madison Park. Less than a week to opening, the tables and chairs have yet to be delivered. There is the small matter of the Ansel inspection, which must be passed in order to get gas certification in New York City. Yep, the gas to power the stoves in the kitchen, so chefs can cook the foodstuffs. Who needs heat for cooking? Minor details. After several delays and one failed inspection, the gas was turned on at Eleven Madison Park on the day of the friends and family opening.

The result of many, many rounds of testing.

The restaurant industry, almost as much as the theater industry itself, is about putting on a show. In fact, the similarities between the restaurant world and the theater world are plentiful. For instance, the industries share a common language. Terms such as ‘front of house’ and ‘back of house’ are second nature to both. And in both industries the success of the night requires that both the front and back of house run like a well-oiled machine. Guidara describes their similarities perfectly: two days out from opening was tech, dress rehearsal came one day out with the friends and family dinner followed, finally, by a much anticipated opening night. And, as in the theater, tweaks are happening up to the very last minute when the show is frozen. The priceless moment in which Chef Humm finalizes plating for a dish with caviar on top - he determines it should be the way they had done it before - his executive chef responds, with a hint of helplessness in his voice, “we did 25 different versions” could just as easily be a director deciding at the last minute to light a scene from a different angle. Attention to detail in restaurants, as in theater, is quite often what separates the good from the great. Indeed, the front of house staff steams the booths on opening day because the fabric – being brand new - is stiffer than anticipated. That's the cream rising to the top.

I wish I could say that my trip to New York in a couple of weeks would include a meal at Eleven Madison Park, but with the dining room tasting menu currently running $335 a pop, I will probably never cross the threshold at Eleven Madison Park. Taking a photo out front and peering inside will have to suffice. Chef Humm, wave if you see me outside!

Sorry Not Sorry

After binging all ten seasons of the time travel comedy Friends  - beepers, answering machines and the invention of email, oh my! - I was left with a six person-sized void to fill after Rachel got off the plane last week. Without doing a lot of research, I pivoted in tone from the tame innuendo of Friends to the unapologetically raunchy comedy I’m Sorry. While some of the storylines come across as vulgarity for vulgarity’s sake, the characters are likable and the dialogue is quick and sharp.

I’m Sorry is a comedy from Andrea Savage, who created and stars as a version of herself: comedy writer, wife and mom. Most of us will never know how close Andrea Savage is to her alter ego Andrea Warren but, personally, I don’t need to. I’ll take the dramatized version who sticks her foot in her mouth, curses like a sailor and pronounces the day her five year-old daughter uses sarcasm for the first time as the best day of her life. 

Andrea, husband Mike (Tom Everett Scott) and daughter Amelia (Olive Petrucci) are the sun in the I’m Sorry universe. Andrea and Mike raise Amelia in the only way they know how: trial and error. They overcorrect when she expresses interest in The Little Mermaid and Amelia reacts later by scorning a stay at home mother. And after Andrea shows her The Sound of Music, Amelia is worried Hitler is hiding in her closet. Andrea’s solution? Give Amelia a stone leftover from the goddess party she hosted. After all, like the sorcerer’s stone in Harry Potter, it will protect her from all the scary things in the world. When Mike correctly points out that the sorcerer’s stone was used to help bring Voldemort back to life, not to protect Harry, Andrea quips, “F**k you, JK Rowling. Go back to the café. Write a couple new notes. I’m just kidding, I do love that goddamn book.”

Despite the fact that Andrea’s nuclear family is central to the show, I’m Sorry is far from a family sitcom. Andrea and her writing partner Kyle (Jason Mantzoukas) trade barbs with the best of them. They have known each other for years and are most often vehemently defend their opinions to each other like two siblings who refuse to admit defeat. Kathy Baker and Martin Mull pop up as Andrea’s divorced parents Sharon and Martin. And though I still have trouble accepting Baker as anything other than the hook hand from Boston Public, she is hilarious as a parent and confidant to Andrea. Sharon is up for anything so long as she arrives home in time to feed her husband, Leon. Leon’s impending demise and Martin waiting in the wings for Sharon provides one of the funniest long running throwaway storylines. Because Leon is perfectly healthy.

Andrea gets herself into a borderline high number of unbelievable and very awkward situations, but her hilarious attempts to extract herself from said situations more than make up for the stretch in reality. She's doing her best to overcome the immaturity that, let's face it, is often more fun than that adulting business.  There's a little bit of Andrea in all of us. How can you not relate to a person who's first act after her family leaves the house for the weekend is to gleefully drop her pants...to do some household chores the way God intended: comfortably. 

The Kitch Lit Series: In Over My Head

My diversion to Hogwarts put a pause on the Kitch Lit series, but the purple-spined Cooking with Fernet Branca by James Hamilton-Paterson called out to me from the bookshelf so loudly that I had to listen.

Cooking with Fernet Branca is kitch lit adjacent, with a healthy spoonful of satire thrown in. Gerald, an Englishman who makes his living as a ghostwriter for sports stars and celebrities, acquires a house in the hills of Tuscany hoping to find inspiration in the solitude. Gerald’s isolation is quickly disrupted by the arrival of Marta, a composer who hails from a fictitious Soviet country. Cue the culture clash. 

One such clash is Marta and Gerald’s opposing culinary sensibilities. Gerald fancies himself a gourmand and finds Marta’s hearty, winter survival dishes far beneath him. Gerald’s recipes err more on the unique side, garlic ice cream anyone? But one thing the two share? A penchant for drinking Fernet Branca. If not the drink itself, at least the effect of the drink.  

Hamilton-Paterson uses alternating perspectives, switching narration every other chapter. We learn about Gerald and Marta through their own eyes and through the eyes of the other. It’s a smart technique that serves to underscore Gerald and Marta’s differences. The actual plot of the novel is a bit loose. Boy bands, mafia-esque crime families and the filming of a movie that turns out to be essentially soft-core porn all come into play. Hamilton-Paterson is a great writer. His prose flows beautifully. And while I appreciated that aspect of the book, I could not shake the feeling that true enjoyment of the novel's satire was floating over my head, just out of reach of actual comprehension. I will gladly admit intellectual defeat when it happens and, in this case, Hamilton-Paterson has crafted a story that I am not cut out to appreciate. Cooking with Fernet Branca is not a bad book, but I do not share enough similarities with the upper-crust Fraiser Cranes of the world to truly enjoy it. I am happily back in Hogwarts now, reading at the middle school level to which I am clearly more suited.

The Wand Chooses the Wizard and I Finally Choose to Read some Harry Potter Books

Of the millions of people who have enjoyed the Harry Potter series in its’ many iterations, I have somehow only enjoyed half of them: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter and Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. What passed me by was enjoying Harry Potter in its’ original form: the written word. When the books were released, I was just slightly older than the target demographic, and my interests at the time were rooted in reality. I usually chose historical fiction over fantasy. 

That said, I am enjoying JK Rowling’s masterpiece more than I would have when the books were released twenty years ago. In those twenty years I have read a lot of books. Some great, some good, some bad, some fact and some fiction and, because of that, my appreciation for a well-written and well-designed book has increased astronomically. JK Rowling has a seemingly boundless imagination. Good versus evil, it’s been done before. Endlessly. But Rowling has created a world that not only feels magical but also somehow totally plausible. Harry Potter is the most famous wizard in the magical world, but he’s also just a kid. He’s a kid with a crappy home life and friends that help him navigate the challenges of growing up – and the extra challenges that come along when the Dark Lord has your number. And, wow, can Rowling tell a story. All the characters, their connections to each other (sometimes going back generations), the spells and magical creatures would no doubt have been easier to follow in my younger years when I had no problem remembering everything. Oh well, que será será.

Since I’ve been to the Wizarding World and have seen Cursed Child - and because you could not be alive during the height of the craze and avoid them -  I am aware of some of the spoilers that have yet to transpire. Thus far, knowing some of what lies ahead has not diminished my enjoyment of the books in any way. At this moment I am halfway through the series, and when I decided to take a break to read some kitch lit, I actually read a couple of pages and wondered, “Hmm, what are Harry, Ron and Hermione up to right now?” And, seriously, what’s up with Snape?

We Are The Lucky Ones

The Derry Girls: James, Michelle, Erin, Orla and Clare

Derry Girls is a sitcom from Northern Ireland that, if not for the fact we’re all living in Netflix’s world, we may not otherwise have had the opportunity to enjoy. Set in Derry, Northern Ireland, the show follows teenager Erin, her cousin Orla and friends Clare, Michelle and Michelle’s English cousin James as they come of age during the conflict in Northern Ireland in the 1990s. With smart writing, exceptional acting and its' universal subject matter, Derry Girls is a hidden gem.

With the first series order sitting at just six episodes, creator and writer Lisa McGee has a lot to accomplish in a short amount of time. Lucky for us, McGee is up to the task. McGee employed an interesting narrative tool in the first episode – Orla steals and reads from Erin’s diary – that perhaps may have been worth pursuing, but it is mostly through McGee’s quick, natural dialogue that the Derry girls become fully formed characters. As an example, an exchange between Erin and Clare:

Erin: Any joy with the trust fund? 

Clare: Ah, according to me ma we’re actually quite poor. 

Erin: Ay, I think we are too.

Expertly delivered by Saoirse-Monica Jackson and Nicola Coughlan the exchange is factual rather than self-pitying and it’s far funnier than any conversation between two friends who just learned that their parents do not have trust funds set aside for them to go on educational trips should be. Dry humor your game? Sister Michael’s your girl. As a non-Catholic, I have only stereotypical portraits of nuns, namely Sister Mary Clarence from Sister Act, and Sister Michael fits none of them. If you want compassion, do not talk to her. She literally announces that to the entire school during an assembly.

In an era where some of the most visible teenagers on TV have superpowers, it’s refreshing to see a pack of friends just trying to get by. And despite what goes on around them (totally normal part of the day when a soldier boards and searches the school bus), the Derry girls are typical teenagers. Erin has aspirations of being a writer but is immediately in over her head when she becomes editor of the school newspaper. Orla (Louisa Harland) who may have a slightly too loose grip on reality has found her calling in step aerobics. Clare’s mouth often moves at the speed of light, a reflection of the speed with which the wheels turn in her brain. Michelle (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell) is the edgy, drinking, sex-crazed teen who positively bristles at the inclusion of her English cousin James (Dylan Llewellyn) in her daily life. And then there’s James. The Derry girl of the opposite gender who is admitted into the all-girls school out of fears he would be victimized by his own gender because of his English accent. James, who is refused use of the staff men’s room, literally does not have a pot to piss in at the all girls’ school. The Derry girls’ exploits are not new or unique. They cram for exams, they are forced to get jobs to earn money for the school trip, they have spats and develop crushes on other classmates. These storylines could come across as stale. Instead of feeling derivative, Derry Girls, with it’s unique setting and uncompromising Northern Irish dialect, is a breath of fresh air.

TV series that rise to the top often fall into one of two categories: the familiar and the trasnportive. Derry Girls is the latter. We become part of stories we may never have had a chance to envision before and, through that, learn more about ourselves. It’s hard to imagine you could have as much fun learning as you do learning through Derry Girls. Need more convincing? Flashbacks abound with a fantastic 90s soundtrack.

Christmas At The Movies

'Tis the season to enjoy a slew of Christmas-themed movies. Hallmark has become a holiday juggernaut with their singular brand of schlocky but watchable TV movies. I kid you not, the plot of one movie on the schedule today included the phrase "plans to buy her own plane are thwarted when she inherits a reindeer farm." As compelling as that description is, much better Christmas movies have hit theaters in the pas few decades. Here are some of the best. 

Best Christmas Movie That is Not Actually About Christmas: Home Alone. A childhood fantasy: left alone, eating pizza and ice cream, jumping on the bed. But Kevin McCallister grows up quickly when he realizes the Wet Bandits are out to rob their family’s suburban Chicago McMansion. It's his house. He has to defend it. The foley artist should have won an award for the sound of Marv tumbling down the icy steps. 

Best Christmas Movie That is Not A Movie: Peter, Paul and Mary, the Holiday Concert. A tradition if there ever was one. The concert features a range of holiday songs (“Light One Candle” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” among them) and classic folk tunes. Every year when I rewatch this, I dream of sitting down with Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, Peter, Paul and Mary for lively conversation and figgy pudding.

Best Overall Christmas Movie: Miracle on 34^th Street, 1994. Richard Attenborough is the perfect Santa. Elizabeth Perkins and Dylan McDermott are the perfect couple. And Mara Wilson is the cutest adult in a little kid’s body. She’s “trying to limit her intake of sugar.” Something a child has never said. 

Best Christmas Movie That Instills Jealousy: The Santa Claus. Your dad is Santa. You get to ride in the sleigh to deliver presents, with a puppy in your lap? Sign me up. What happened to the technology that that can manufacture something that looks like an ordinary CD player but is actually a cookie dispenser? Let's get our best minds on that. CD's are a thing of the past anyway. Might as well have them spit out cookies.

Best 'Just Go With It' Christmas Movie: Love Actually. Is the plausibility questionable? Sure. Are a few of the dozens of interconnected storylines just filler? Yes. But it doesn’t matter. As popular as Love Actually is, it should be given more credit for featuring a few incredibly understated performances. Emma Thompson, Alan Rickman and Bill Nighy to name a few. Hugh Grant dances to The Pointer Sisters, just get on board.

Best Underrated  Christmas Movie: The Family Stone. This ensemble dramedy was mostly passed over when it was released but it remains a must watch in my book. The slow reveal of Diane Keaton’s heartbreaking performance and the unraveling of Dermot Mulroney and Sarah Jessica Parker’s forced relationship is told with both humor and heart. No family is perfect, the Stone family reminds us of that.

Best You May Not Have Seen This Christmas Movie But You Should: Prancer. A young girl discovers an injured reindeer in the woods and is convinced that he belongs to Santa. Convincing others is not as easy. Cloris Leachman plays the grouchy neighbor. She spooked me but I loved it.