The Anna Maria Island Sun Newspaper


Vol. 17 No. 15 - January 25, 2017

FEATURE

Back to the basics

Anna Maria Island Sun News Story

submitted

Try fresh-shucked oysters with one of the three sauces featured here.

 

Humility, a word that I have known all along, but have just recently understood in my life. As a young chef working in high-end, fine-dining establishments, I was full of piss and vinegar as they say. No one could tell me anything and I knew it all. But I couldn't have been more wrong. I should have listened to mom. Life is funny that way isn't it?

I was once told by another chef, "Don't let the business run you." I never entirely understood what it meant. Now, at the helm of this beloved, iconic restaurant, after years of doing what I thought was right (and some grey hairs later), I know what he was saying – slow down. Assess the situation. React based on what is most necessary at the given time. It is integral to take the moment to listen and obtain a basic understanding of what is going on around you. And while delegating tasks has always been a challenge, I now realize what a team effort cooking really is.

Why reinvent the wheel when the wheel is already turning?

Over the years, trends in the culinary world continue to ebb and flow. Current trends include: Fermenting, pickling, sustainable seafood, restaurant gardens, molecular gastronomy, tasting menus, food trucks and sous vide, to name a few. They each have earned their place in the professional kitchen, but in the end, it all comes back to the basics. I have come to realize that pure ingredients, passion and desire drive great food. For example, the skill of cooking a piece of meat to its proper temperature or cutting mirepoix to uniform exactness seriously outweighs making caviar spheres out of strawberry juice. Food is meant to be enjoyed without the confusion of what utensil to use.

Now I understand the basic, yet vital, importance that wholesome, local food plays in a community. Food helps develop relationships and nurture friendships, making you feel good about what you eat. I also believe strongly in the therapeutic properties of food and its vital role in our health. And sourcing local products supports the community in which my staff and my family work and live.

At the Seafood Shack, we use locally-grown, certified organic produce from Geraldson Community Farm, Greenway Farm Stone Ground Organic Grits grown and milled in Florida, fresh fish from local fisherman and honey produced from bees rescued from our own property. We strive to teach the Shack staff the importance of knowing and respecting the product. And understanding the work it took to produce that radish or to raise that pig sizzling in the pan is key to becoming a great cook.

When you look at the big picture, the culinary trends mimic my life. Keep trying something different to reach success, just to turn around and go back to the basics that everyone knows and loves. If culinary trends were a real human being I would have one tip for them – listen to your mom.

The French poet Léon-Paul Fargue said eating an oyster was "like kissing the sea on the lips." There's nothing better than a freshly-shucked oyster eaten as is, but if you prefer, here are some of my most favorite sauces to serve with these briny beauties.

Fresh-shucked oysters with three sauces

Mignonette

Ingredients:

½ c. minced shallots (about 2 ½ ounces)

¼ c. white vinegar

¼ c. rice vinegar

1¼ tsp. finely crushed peppercorns

Pinch brown sugar

Mix all ingredients together and allow to sit for at least 1 hour for shallots to marinate before serving.

Kicked-up cocktail sauce

Ingredients:

¼ c. ketchup

½ tsp. hot pepper sauce

2 Tbs. grated fresh horseradish

½ tsp. Worcestershire sauce

1 tsp. fresh lemon juice

Stir all of the ingredients together in a medium bowl. Taste and season with more pepper as needed. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and chill until ready to serve.

Asian dipping sauce

Ingredients:

1 Tbs. finely minced fresh ginger

1 Tbs. finely minced scallions

1½ tsp. light soy sauce

4 Tbs. rice vinegar

Combine all ingredients and allow to marinate for 1 hour.

Uncle George – farm to church

Uncle George was the closest thing I had to a grandfather.

He was my favorite uncle by far. After the Bistro was open only a couple of years, George decided he should drive the old motor home down from Nova Scotia and hang out and make sure I was running everything right.

That New Year's Eve George worked the Caesar salad station. He made over a hundred Caesar salads. He was 92 at the time.

My best time with Uncle George was the summer after first grade.

Uncle George made me his partner in the farm.

The farm was a thinly disguised scheme to drive his suburban neighbors to madness. He took his normal house with a normal front lawn – grass, shrubs and flower beds – and covered it all with horse poop and planted it with rows of blueberry bushes. The blueberries became Uncle George's infamous blueberry wine - a dark tale for another day.

George swore by horse poop for blueberries. Everyone agreed that it gave a distinctive terroir character to the wine.

After tearing up the yard and planting the farm, George erected a big satellite dish in the middle of the blueberries. The dish was 10 feet across and was attached to a 40-foot radio antenna. This was the late '50s and the cold war was raging, and George decided he should to talk to the Russians on his radio.

This was before Trump.

Back then hardly anyone was talking to the Russians.

Being George's partner in the farm was my first job. The work seemed a lot like what I had heretofore called play.

In the morning, we would rake horse poop for a while, and then George would decide we should take a 7up break.

Uncle George owned the 7up distributorship. We kids thought he owned 7up.

We drank a boat load of 7up.

Uncle George's 7up was generally more of an amber color.

Once we stopped for the first 7up break, that was pretty much it for the workday. Uncle George would decide we needed to get a bunch of lobsters or talk to the Russians or go see a guy about a boat and we were off.

Sunday morning Mass was special.

We were Catholics. Us Catholic kids had to go church every Sunday morning.

I asked Uncle George why we Catholics always had to go to church every Sunday.

He said it was one of"the Six Miserable Mysteries.

He claimed that the other five were his sisters.

Sunday mornings defined Uncle George for me.

After 7up breakfast and shoveling a little poop, we would get ready for church.

George owned a dozen tailor made suits from London and New York that I never saw outside of his closet.

George always wore his farming clothes to church – the same work pants, sweatshirt and knee high rubber boots that he wore shoveling horse poop.

The Church near our cove was very small.

We always arrived for Mass a few minutes late.

George would kalump into the little church in his big rubber boots.

He would kalump to the very front pew, take a measured look around at his relatives and neighbors, glare back at the priest and then sit, cross his legs and snap open his newspaper.

Later he got up, folded his paper and kalumped up and down the aisles and took collection.

I don't go to church as often as I should.

It is not as much fun without Uncle George.


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