The Forgotten Line Chef

Not many truly understand the toils of a line chef. It is nothing close to what one would describe as a “glamorous” job, but it puts food on the table and money in your pocket. Any customer walking into a restaurant rarely gives thought to the line chefs. They come for the food, the ambiance, or maybe even the executive chef that received a Michelin Star. They sit at their dimly lit table waited on by a very conscientious waiter and orders from the single page menu of extremely expensive fare with the false assumption that their meal will be meticulously prepared by the head chef himself, sweat and tears included. It’s an image the restaurant works hard to promote and it works. True is, though the executive chef may be present in the kitchen, if you’re lucky, odds are they only glance at your plate as it is scooped off the counter and ushered out into the dining room. Your delicious meal that required perfect attention and the utmost care was not cooked by him. It was cooked by a line chef. A man or woman that is likely underpaid and most definitely underappreciated works their ass off for eight hours a night putting out gourmet plates for the masses. It is their sweat, their tears, their cut fingers, and their burned hands that struggle every day to make a measly living for themselves. Some of them have pipe dreams of being the next Bobby Flay, but most know their place and readily accept it. They don’t cook to be celebrities. They cook for the love of the food, the love of the flat top, the gas burner, the broiler. It can easily be argued that line chefs are the last of a breed. They are true cuisine.

~JS

Sample Recipes

Hey everyone,

I've been hard at work re-creating some of the meals I was fortunate enough to eat while in Italy so that I could share them with you. Below are some photos of a few of the meals that I have spent time composing. Make you hungry? I hope so, because these recipes along with many more will be available in my book "A Study Abroad."

And as a little treat, I've included the recipe for the Parmeggiano Reggiano Peppercorn Pasta here as I do recall promising to include some recipes. Buon appettito!

Pollo alla Pizzaiola with Grilled Artichoke and Serbelloni Eggplant Parmesean

Trippe Alla Fiorentina on Toasted Ciabatta

Grilled Ribeye with Braised Pearl Onion Reduction

Parmeggiano Reggiano and Peppercorn Pasta

Ingredients

7 ounces dry or fresh pasta (of the spaghetti variety)

2 cupa parmeggiano reggiano (if you can't find parmeggiano reggiano, grana or parmesean will work. It just won't have that nutty and earthy quality that you find in reggianio.)

1 Egg Yolk

1 cup hot pasta water (which you will have more than enough of when the pasta has finished cooking)

4 Tablespoons course grind black pepper

Preparation

Cook the pasta in boiling, heavily salted water until tender and pliable. For this recipe, fresh pasta is preferable, but it can work with dried. Be absolutely sure not to overcook the pasta. It must be al dente. When the pasta is cooked, remove with tongs or a slotted spoon into a bowl and toss with 1/2 the cheese and 1/2 the pepper. In a small bowl, add small amounts of the hot pasta water to the room temperature egg yolk. This process is called "tempering" and will allow the yolk to be brought up to the temperature of the pasta without curdling. Ladle about a tablespoon to a tablespoon and a half of the egg yolk/pasta water mixture in the bottom of an individual serving dish. Place the pasta on top of the yolk sauce. Sprinkle with the remainder of the cheese and pepper. Serve immediately. Have guests toss the pasta in the sauce just before eating. Serves 3-4.

Until next time,

~HS

An Excerpt from the Cinque Terre Chapter

Hey everyone,

Here is a little tidbit from the Cinque Terre Chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

"Back in Monterosso for our final night we paid a visit to the popular local restaurant Ristorate Belvedere which specializes in local Ligurian cuisine. The restaurant is rather large, taking up two indoor rooms and then spreading out onto the street by the ocean. Regardless of your seat you have a spectacular view alongside which to enjoy your delicious local fare.

We ordered two courses, a Ligurian pesto pasta followed by a local swordfish dish. With our dinner came, of course, a basket of bread and a carafe of wine. The bread was delicious and had a distinctly different additive from the Tuscan version: salt. Oddly enough, Tuscans often will not salt their bread for the reason that it is to be used to clean sauce from plates or just enjoy as a palate cleanser. The Ligurians use bread for the same purposes but for some reason found that adding salt to their mix created better bread. I, for one, agree completely. The salt gives the bread life of its own and doesn’t just leave such a beautiful invention to fall down to the level of sponge but instead raise it up to the heights of side-dish. Well, you get my point.

Bread aside, the wine in Liguria is spectacular. Personally not normally a fan of white wine, I was not particularly excited for the specialty of Liguria. I was more than pleasantly surprised. A simple house wine, a wine that they do not serve out of bottles but instead transfer in large metal barrels for serving in mass, was spectacular. Most cheap white wine that can be easily acquired in the United States has what I would describe as a sort of acrid after taste, or finish. Not necessarily of alcohol like one would describe after taking a shot of vodka, but more in the sense that it is not very well processed and that the taste suffers as such. The Ligurian wine, however, was light and fresh. It left very little on the palate upon its finish but went down wonderfully fragrant and fruity. It was sweet, but not in the sense of candy. It was more like biting into a fresh fruit and tasting the natural sugar; not overwhelming but definitely a front-running flavor.

The pasta arrived first and in a fashion that is purely Ligurian. Made only with flour and water, the little short pastas were twisted tightly once in the middle, in a way that appeared to be by hand since no individual pasta seemed to identical to another. Like all of the pasta in this country it was cooked to a perfect al dente, something that Americans as a whole need much more practice at. No one likes a mushy pasta. What is interesting about the Ligurian pesto and what differs from, say, Tuscan or Roman pesto is that traditionally the pesto pasta in Liguria is served with slices of potato. This is not only foreign to Americans who would never serve a starch with a starch, but also odd to other Italian regions. But in Liguria, it is the way it has always been done and has been taught traditionally from generation to generation for centuries. The pesto, which was made with basil and pine nut, was a relatively thin sauce by American standards. It is likely that there was not as much cheese used as a thickener which allowed the olive oil and basil to play center-stage. As a whole, the individual delicious parts combined to form a deliciously addicting pasta which all of us had to have a second helping of. In comparison with the other pasta that I have had on this trip I will probably miss Ligurian pesto near the most."

Like what you read? Want to read about the swordfish? You will have to wait for the final release of my book "A Study Abroad- Italy" in order to get the whole story. Oh well, a little anticipation never hurt anyone.

Until next time,

~HS

Excerpt from the Florence Chapters

Hey everyone,

Below is a little excerpt from a section from the Florence Chapters. I hope you enjoy it!

"Since we had some free time one night in the coming week, we decided to take the local American University study abroad campus, Gonzaga University to be specific, up on their offer for a barbeque for dinner. The invitation promised hamburgers and hot dogs, some little slices of America my friends were craving. Personally, I was not quite ready to eat American again, but I acquiesced to their request and sent an RSVP. As the days to the barbeque slipped away I could not justify to myself allowing a meal to pass that was not something that I could not easily find in the United States. I did not travel this far just to eat McDonalds, so why would I have the quintessentially American barbeque?

It took a lot of mental fortitude, but I was able to come up with a solution. Just the thought made me smile. There was definitely something I could find here that would be pretty foreign to most Americans but at the same time would work great on the grill. But it would require a visit to the San Lorenzo Market once again. What a tragedy, right?

When we arrived at the barbeque I had in my hand a nondescript white plastic bag, the contents of which were hidden. As much as people wanted to know what was in it, I was not about to tell until I had the grill to myself. My friends partook in the promised fare of hot dogs and hamburgers. Suzi, being herself of course, had a veggie burger. I had a bite of it. It was pretty good, for not having any animal in it. It was salty and obviously made mostly of grain. Filling, it served its purpose: providing nutrition. When everyone had cooked everything they wanted to eat, it was my turn to unveil my dinner.

That morning I made a visit to the San Lorenzo Market to purchase something I had noticed there the past week. I know they are available in some areas of the United States during some parts of the year, but for most of the population of our dear nation, it is a foreign part of the cow, or rather bull, that should never be eaten. That’s right, I am talking about the testicles.

Rocky mountain oysters, balls, testicles, call them what you want, but I just call them delicious. Though they have a peculiar odor when raw and are incredibly odd to the touch (I use the word odd in reverence of the animal it came from, though most would call it disgusting), when cooked just righty they firm up nicely and have a wonderful subtle taste. I chose a light coating of olive oil, salt, oregano, garlic powder, chili powder, and freshly ground black pepper.

As the testicles sizzled over the fire I received plenty of strange looks from the American students. Many of them did not believe me when I told them what it was that I was cooking. Why would they? It is one of those foreign flavors that just confuses Americans. Why would you eat the testicle when there are so many other delicious parts of the bovine that are not gross to think about? The answer, at least for me and for many other cultures around the world, is that though it may sometimes be gross at first, when food is expensive or scarce you make use everything. That means when it is time to slaughter a goat, a yak, a buffalo, or a cow you use everything. Wasting any of it meant that at some point in the future, you were going to be hungry because you did not save a part of the animal. Americans waste thousands of tons of food this way. They will not eat tongue or intestine or testicles because they are “gross.” There is so much to be learned from the people who make meals from what we would throw aside. What happened over the centuries was a clever crafting of delicious methods of eating every part of the animal. That is why people still eat tripe, or intestine, or heart. It is because for generations their families have passed down recipes that have become their soul food, their comfort. So by preparing this meal for myself in the humblest of ways I hope to relate to the ancient struggle and maybe have a taste of what it meant to honor the animal in its death by using every part of it instead of tossing it by the wayside.

After about fifteen minutes of sizzling and anticipation, I took the glorious testicles from the fire and laid them on a piece of bread that I toasted with olive oil, two slices of tomato, and one slice of mild cheese. The combination was more than delicious. I enjoyed the sandwich much more than I have ever enjoyed an American burger.

The testicles were definitely not a bold flavor. They were very subtle, very chewy, and had a taste that was sort of like a combination of shrimp and filet mignon. Personally, I thought the flavor was extraordinary. It was a meal I would happily serve anyone and would gladly make for myself again.

So mission accomplished. I did not have traditional American barbeque. I brought a twist."

Until next time,

~HS

Meet the Crew

Hey again everyone,

Before I start the real juice of my writing, I wanted to first introduce you to the friendly group that managed to put up with me during our Italian excursion. It takes a lot to keep your head when I'm constantly stopping either for food or for a photo.

Patrick Stumbaugh

Pat has been a valued friend for a few years now. Excellent cameraman and manager of finances. He makes sure that I keep to my budget which, trust me on this one, is pretty difficult. He enjoys long walks on the beach, mint chip ice cream, and ecclectic music. A bit of a picky eater (mostly in regards to cost), though he will deny it, so I have to be choosy about my meals around him. A best friend to the end, this trip would be pretty empty without Pat by my side.

Alissa Cowan

Her last name pronouced like the animal "cow", Alissa is a bundle of happiness splashed with some of the bizarre. She knows when to crack a joke and make sure we are all in high spirits. Her weakness? White chocolate. Her job was making sure that we stopped for a snack every couple hours. Of course, this was incredibly valuable to me, since I am a lover of food. Also a bit of a picky eater, straying away from the more outlandish cuisine and leaving that to me (a task I freely accept). She also will tend not to finish larger dishes of food, a perfect companion as I am always happy to oblige. 

Suzanne Stiso

Preferred to be called Suzi, this cutie can be described as pretty much the nicest person you have ever met. Essentially just along for the ride, she makes sure there is never a dull moment. If there is anyone to get hurt on this trip, it is Suzi and she has made sure that we know that firsthand many a time. As a vegetarian, if she needs to eat she already has limited options. But she is a lover of all manner of cheeses and mushrooms, so she is good in my book.

So, why do I surround myself with such picky eaters you might ask? That's an excellent question and when I think of a witty answer I will get back to you. Until then, these are my friends and trusted companions. Now that you know the crew, I think we can begin.

Until next time,

~HS 

First Blog

Hey everyone,

So let me first introduce myself and talk a little bit about what this blog is going to cover and why you would want to read it. 

My name is Hiro Schneider and I am a lover of travel and most of all a lover of food. I have spent the majority of my life behind a stove learning everything I could about the art of cooking. I still have a lot more to learn, but I hope to share my current knowledge with all of you. You see, I decided that there is so much to learn about the world that I can't possibly try and fit it all in to one lifetime. That would be absurd. Instead, I want to learn all there is to know about regional cooking. That seems more plausible. So as I travel throughout the world, I will take you with me. I will see the sights, taste the food, share the experience with you, and then write you a few recipes from the areas I visit so that you can taste the food yourself in the comfort of your home. 

My philosophy is that we all change. As the world has grown throughout the ages it has become more and more diverse, interconnected, and less individual. In many ways this change is good. But in many others it destroyes the individual cultures that once were truly unique. In those places where internationalism has buried what was once truly singular, I believe there are traces that can still be found. I believe they are found in the food. It is my goal to find that hidden culture and make sure that everyone everywhere can know about it and will never forget that it exists.

So in this blog you can expect a few things: 

1) Little snippits of my book. Kind of like teasers. As I finish parts of the book I will put some of what I write here for you to read to get you excited for the final product.

2) Recipes. They may or may not be related to my book, but they sure will be tasty!

3) Photographs. There will be many of these, and many of them you can expect to see in my book. 

So here we go. The first country on my list? Italy. More specifically the Tuscany region, Rome, Lake Como, Venice, and Cinque Terre. I will be exploring the secret rivalry of Grom and Vivoli as well as taking you guys into the kitches of the Grand Hotel Serbelloni, one of the best restaurants in the world. Hope you are hungry, because this journey is not short on delicacies of every type.

Until next time,

~HS