Po Boy Views
By
Phil LaMancusa
Go Large
Or
Go Home
“Have a banana, Hannah; try the salami,
Tommy; give with the gravy, Davy; everybody eats when they come to my house!”
Cab Callaway
By
tradition, in food establishments across the globe, the first chef in gets to
wake up the kitchen. It’s Tuesday morning; the Chef arrives at work. Unlock the
doors; turn on lights; fire up the ovens; wipe down all horizontal work spaces
with sanitizer; put liners in trash cans, turn on the radio and start the
coffee. The rest of the crew is close behind; the more ground work that’s done
the faster we can get down to business. New Orleans Culinary and Hospitality
Institute (NOCHI). Fifth floor Events Kitchen.
Yesterday
(Monday) our Learning Skills For Life (LSFL) class (27 students) had red beans,
rice, andouille sausage, salad and crisp PoBoy bread. Today is Taco Tuesday.
The other party for lunch has just gone from 50 to 138; thankfully we found out
on Friday so we could get procurement in time. The rest of the week in addition
to LSFL we have Rotary lunch for 55: Chimichurri chicken, patatas brava, Tres
Leches cake and garden salad; there’s the usual dietary restrictions (gluten
free, lactose free, vegetarian and a person that doesn’t eat bell peppers).
Superbowl
weekend we cooked for 900 (gumbo, jambalaya, red beans, poboys, fruit platters,
potato, macaroni and Cole slaw salads, PoBoy sandwiches and 1500 smoked and
barbecued chicken wings); next week we have a sit down lunch for 15. There’s no
time to think ahead or behind; it’s Taco Tuesday for 188 (plus instructors)
today.
Sous
Chef Melinda Wilson comes in next, reads the board and starts the beef and
chicken; Lydian comes in and gets on the salsa, guacamole and garnishes; Lonni
sets up condiments and shreds cheeses and lettuce. There are four of us and we’re
rolling; lunches are set to go out for 11:30. The front of the house staff is
in and setting tables; Toni is directing them like a traffic cop; Michelle (our
department head) pops in to remind us of a BEO (Banquet Event Orders) meeting
at 1:00. The students (first and second floor culinary and baking/pastry) have
been in since 7:30 and will have family meal ready for noon. 725 Howard Ave. a
five story building buzzing with soups, stocks, sauces, roasting, sautéing and
mis-en-place-ing. Dishwashers roll in for 10:00.
Up
in the Events Kitchen, we check and shelve today’s procurement, make out prep
and ordering lists, wipe as we go, change gloves and wash hands often; we
banter, chatter, dance around each other and sing out: “BEHIND YOU!!!”
“CORNER!” “SHARP!” “COMING THROUGH!” “HOT!!!” We also gossip, laugh and smile a
lot. Our hours range from seven to twelve on any given day; weekends; holidays;
rain or shine; at times we work a week and more without a day off, on our feet, “flexing (make up) days”
off to compensate. This is our job, this is our life and this is our choosing:
we are American Chefs; we leave our personal lives at the door. At NOCHI food
is our lives. We’ll sell over a million bucks worth this year. For larger
parties we hire temps; other than that, it’s three and a half of us (Lydian has
a second job and she’s only available M-W).
I’m
here frying up 300+ taco shells (everything from scratch), working rice,
refrying beans and wondering how to write about the workings of the food
service industry. How to describe the choreography and dance that happens
behind the scenes to be able to put food on the table. It would be incredulously
mindboggling to the uninitiated to work in this type of controlled chaos.
On
the third floor there are work spaces for the instructors (6) and office staff
and directors of finance, communications, enrollment, outreach, student
support, sales, the person who holds the purse strings and the man who signs
the checks. We’re governed by a board of directors who in turn keep tabs on our
ability to pay the rent, utilities, salaries, and keep up our public image.
Even though we’re considered a non-profit, like all other businesses we’ve got
to make our nut.
With
every new event, it’s like opening a new restaurant; we offer clients the
choice of virtually any menu, any concept, any foods that they can imagine. We
also teach private classes. We’ve cooked North African, Latinx, Asian, Mediterranean,
European and the requisite Creole/Cajun. We’ve taught classes of twenty-plus the
intricacies of pasta making, basic pastry, smokey barbecue, food from Spain and
the requisite Creole/Cajun.
With
each function we need to consider ordering, organizing, inventory and our food
suppliers; food cost, labor, scheduling, waste factors, recycling and equipment
usage. Downstairs there are scores of students paying to learn to do what we do.
What’s
different about us is that we’re no different than the other almost one and a
half million kitchen workers generating one point one trillion dollars
(statista.com) a year in this country. There are cuts, bruises, burns, the
lifting of many heavy things and the satisfaction of a job well done. I’ve been
doing this job a very long time and each day is the best day ever. I will
continue cook and conduct kitchens because my body and will is strong; I’ll be
eighty-two years old this year (you read that correctly) and there is no
stopping me. “Everybody eats when they
come to my house!”
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