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A Night in Jamie Kennedy's Local Kitchen
By Fresh Bites
On December 10th, 2009, “locavores” across the globe joined together to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Slow Food International, the organization based in Italy dedicated to promoting a return to local, responsible and sustainable eating. The anniversary came at the end of a rather turbulent year in the Toronto local food scene. In the 12 months leading up to Slow Food’s big birthday, countless books, TV shows, Web sites, and ad campaigns popped up everywhere promoting the importance of eating local and even the most mass-produced and chemical filled food staples were suddenly vying for “local” status. Chefs, authors, well-funded activists, and experts from a wide-range of backgrounds were celebrated for their actions to support local food. Everyone was a “locavore”, a home-chef, and a friend of the farmer - and proud of it. Then suddenly, it all came crashing down.
Jamie Kennedy held a media lunch at the beginning of the summer and announced changes. With the recession in full swing, he declared that the fine dining experience of Jamie Kennedy at the Gardiner was a thing of the past and that he would focus on a more informal and cost-effective lunch series allowing for him to still serve local and seasonal fare…without the glamour. The next day, the headline on the paper read “local food is dead”. Jamie Kennedy’s church of the local and sustainable was labeled as the poster boy for why local food would never be profitable. Mr. Kennedy’s hands were stretched out onto a cross made of local grape vines, a crown of seasonal nettles placed on his head, and left to slowly drain of local “essence” like a freshly slaughtered Tamworth Pig. A few months later stories and “chatter” would begin to circulate through various blogs, newspapers, and the Twitter-universe calling local food “an elitist snob club”, a scene “only the privileged could participate in” and that it was a “way for those who didn’t even know how to cook for themselves, feel better about themselves”.
It was the media’s love-hate roller-coaster relationship with local food, the perceived elitism by the general consumer, and a genuine desire to celebrate the values of Slow Food on its 20th anniversary that brought us to Jamie Kennedy’s Gildead Café on December 10th at 5:00pm. While others left their offices to head out and “support the local food movement” for a few hours, we could not think for a better way to spend the evening - in the kitchen with Jamie Kennedy and his team.
The challenge of the evening was to prepare and deliver 40 guests five courses of local food as part of his Local Food Movement Dinner Series. This was the last dinner of the season and we were thrilled with the opportunity to participate. The mood in the kitchen at 5:00pm was serene and incredibly warm. As Jamie noted later, the fans were off to reduce the noise in the kitchen where music played and the team chatted about the latest gossip. A new Jazz club on the Danforth, the Tiger Woods scandal, and the origins of a specific herb were discussed as the team chopped, diced, sliced and marinated. It was the complete opposite of Hell’s Kitchen. In Jamie’s Kitchen, the servers, chefs, cooks, sommelier, and dishwasher were like a hockey team in the locker-room before the big game. Everyone had their own preparation duties and knew what needed to be done before they hit the ice. But while they prepped it was also a time to bond and it was clear that this was not a show being put on for us – rather a typical evening before the big meal.
As the guests started to flood into the café, the servers would come back to report on what was happening. The team took a final look at the items and a round of checks made to ensure everything was in place. The cue to start the pass-around appetizers came from the front dining manager, not Jamie.
Tonight’s meal of five courses would be started with a passed appetizer duo. The first being fish cakes made with trout from Georgian Bay served with a wild-leek “tartar sauce”. Next, a tortiere-style pastry topped with some of Jamie’s famous pickles, ones he created from a recipe of his Aunt Myrtle. Yes folks, we asked and the recipe did come from a real Aunt Myrtle - which we thought was too good to be true – marketing gold.
The rush to prepare the appetizers was over and the kitchen team took a breather as the guests sat down and the sommelier poured the first flight of wine. The dinner would open with some of the local suppliers (Rowe Farms and Frogpond Farms that particular evening) sharing some background information on their farms and the products they trucked in for the dinner.
While the guests heard tales from the farmer, we kitchen folk had our first crisis of the night - two guests with allergies. It wasn’t a single mild allergy; it was an entire medical dictionary full of deadly highly reactive diseases. Luckily, the two guests shared similar illnesses and were sitting next to each other. The team pulled the ingredients list for the evening’s courses and made some changes for the two guests. Almost every dish had to be modified for these two patrons which made us wonder…why would someone go to a pre-set dinner where the menu was pre-published then ask to have every item altered? It was like going out to a dress shop, buying a dress, and then asking them to make pants out of the material. “It happens a lot, just part of the job” quoted one of the cooks, but this one is “a bit more convenient seeing how they came together – odd that they have the same allergies, but still convenient”.
A plan was made to accommodate the two guests, and we were back on track. In the kitchen, lamb was seared for one of the future courses. Jamie’s son dropped by and while his duties as chef could not be avoided, he did replace his chef’s hat for a period to that of loving father. His son, who was about to start a new job, was asking for dad’s advice regarding the upcoming holidays and what was reasonable to request for vacation time. While Jamie sliced, he listened to his son and shared his thoughts on the issue…it was no different than preparing dinner at home. After the fatherly advice was delivered, it was time to get back to work. You would never have guessed it was his son had Jamie not pointed it out. His tone and demeanor was the same with his son as it was with the other members of the team and it became apparent that this type of openness and casual togetherness was common. But enough analysis – it was time to get back to work.
The first sit-down course would be a Tamworth Pork Consommé with Burger. At Jamie Kennedy Kitchens, everyone knows what they have to do and the team simply prioritizes their individual tasks as needed to help the greater good. Major corporations spend millions in consulting fees for this kind of team collaboration. With the first course, forty individual burgers had to be quick seared, flipped, and removed to ensure the perfect degree of pink centre. Without any instruction, the team swarms the grill and begins to help an overwhelmed teammate who was blessed with only two hands. The process takes 5-6 minutes and as the last burger is removed, the team begins to reassemble by the doorway to the kitchen for plating.
Borrowing from Henry Ford, the team creates a preparation line and plate after plate is assembled. This occurred five separate times that night. For each and every course, the team took the same positions and would begin the process of adding the starch base, perhaps some beef, maybe a little vinaigrette. Every actor had a role and they took pride in the quality of their individual contributions. One of the chefs told us later that Jamie Kennedy’s Kitchen “is a special place for many cooks where, once you get the opportunity to be part of the team, you never want to leave”. Interesting, but what drove that? “The people here love what they do. When you love what you do, you never want to stop doing it. When you have the opportunity to work with a team of people who love what they do, you never want to leave them.”
The remainder of the evening was spent doing the same thing. Pulling the prepped beef, vegetables, and sauces from the fridge, warming plates, and assembling. Jamie did not dictate, lecture or throw things. Why would he? Everything was going so well. The team knew their roles and was pulling together. Goal after goal was being shot as each course was delivered to satisfied patrons. The Tamworth Pork Consomme with Burger was followed by a Winter Salad with greens from Soiled Reputation Farm, Lardons and a Verjus Vinaigrette. A Wiltshire Longhorn Lamb with Tomato Braised Greens was next.
During the lamb course, Jamie took a break to slice the pears for the next course. Watching this was inspiring. To all the young chefs of the world, this is an example of what is fundamentally wrong with you and your ideologies around being a chef, a foodie, or a culinary celebrity. Nobody is too good to slice a pear and if you are too good or dream of the day when you can have your name on the restaurant door and a team of lackeys to slice them for you, find another career. Jamie was present throughout the dinner, not with the guests, but where he belonged – in the kitchen with his team.
The pears were used for the sandwich of Niagara Gold Cheese, Black Currant Sauce, and toasted black walnuts. “Taste these, they are from here in Ontario” commented Jamie as he passed us some of the walnuts…”they taste unbelievable – most people don’t think of Walnuts coming from Ontario but the ones we have here are fantastic with a real earthy flavor to them”. The look on his face was like that of a teenage boy who had just discovered an old stash of Playboys - excited and wide-eyed as if these Walnuts were something of great value, a hidden gem, and he was right, they did taste amazing.
The final course was assembled and sent out to the guests and we turned towards dessert, a simple yet delicious sticky toffee pudding. The team assembled and we steamed the pre-baked puddings. Timing was everything and as soon as they were ready, we re-assembled into our procession for assembly of the strategically placed pudding with a toffee sauce and nuts. As with the other courses the importance of identifying which server had the two guests with allergies was key and the dishes modified accordingly. As the last pudding made its way out to the patrons, a sigh of accomplishment rose from the team. A short-lived one as it was now time to start the clean up.
It was now 9:00pm and we had been on our feet for four straight hours. That was nothing compared to Jamie and his team. The average number of hours a chef spends in the kitchen on a given day is 12-14. Some even have second jobs. For the JK team, the day was still not over. Dishes had to be washed, kitchen equipment cleaned, prep-work started for the next day’s menu, and other “duties” involving the kitchen, front of house, and administrative staff required attention. That evening, over 100 glasses of wine had been poured, 200 plates prepared and served, and close to 500 pieces of cutlery used. The pots, knives, pans, and chopping boards used to dice, chop, mince, boil, and braise over 40 local ingredients was impossible to count. For the guests, the meal was a success and Jamie made a quick tour of the dining room to thank the patrons and answer any questions they may have had. The entire team was thanked and they all made a presence for the diners to applaud.
Leaving, it was clear that this was the best thing we could have done to celebrate Terra Madre Day. The local food movement plays on several themes to support the cause and at times the true heroes of the movement are neglected. The struggling farmer, the health benefits, and the lack of understanding where our food comes from are all great reasons to buy local. However, very little is said about the cooks, chefs, sommeliers, and servers who work with local food every single day. Yes, we celebrate a select few players. However, over the past few years more and more attention has been diverted to those with a more interesting tale to tell about local food as opposed to those who are the real heroes of it.
The real heroes of local food, despite what many people might think, are not the most talked about, seen or heard. The real heroes of local food are the ones who have a genuine passion for it. They’re not into local food because it is en vogue, well funded, or getting plenty of press. It is not a stepping stone to bigger and better things. They do it because it excites them – perhaps even consumes them. If the world points at them and says they are crazy, a failure, or finished…they keep on plugging away at local food. They love it and have made a commitment to it. One of Jamie’s team members said it best… “When you love what you do, you never want to stop doing it.” Perhaps this could apply to local food as well. We certainly think so.
Jamie Kennedy recently introduced a new dining experience for 2010 at his Gilead Cafe. Bistro-style cuisine was introduced this month offering local fare in a casual bistro environment along with weekend brunch. According to Jamie, it is about "going back to the good old days when the food was central to the experience, not the glamorous surroundings". For reservations and info, Click Here.
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