CARLY FISHER

published in Food Fanatics on May 6, 2013

Mention Martin Yan to any chef and you’re likely to hear this common refrain: 18 seconds. That’s the mind-blowing time it takes him to debone a whole chicken, a task made famous on his longtime PBS show Yan Can Cook.

Though he estimates performing the shtick roughly 50,000 times in his 34-year career (sometimes three times per day), it’s hardly the first thing he would impart to a culinary student.

“Listen, no one needs to debone a chicken in 18 seconds,” Yan says. “It doesn’t matter if it’s 35 seconds or a minute and a half. It’s just entertainment.”

In fact, he recently made his way back to the kitchen with M.Y. China, his latest Chinese restaurant that opened in December. Entertainment is only a slice of Yan’s legendary career. Working his way through apprenticeships from age 13, he rose to fame as a master chef and educator.

Yan has rolled with—and mastered—every punch the industry has thrown. Consider his accolades: nearly 3,500 television appearances, 30 cookbooks, a handful of restaurants and product lines, and the development of The Martin Yan Culinary Arts Center in Shenzhen, China. Now 64, he shows no signs of slowing down.

Located in San Francisco, the Chinese cuisine restaurant is the latest incarnation of Yan’s ever-evolving career. “You can always reinvent yourself—it’s neverending,” says Yan, whose other restaurants include Yan Can Asian Bistro and the former SensAsian. “As long as I keep a sense of curiosity and passion and follow my instinct, this is how you sustain yourself in any profession.”

Yan’s television career began in 1979, a time when only two other cooking programs were on the air: Graham Kerr’s The Galloping Gourmet and Julia Child’s The French Chef. As celebrity chefs proliferated, Yan’s persona and brand evolved, from using entertainment to expose Americans to Chinese cuisine to a more serious investigation of authenticity through travel. Surprisingly, he’s managed to do it all without the aid of a PR machine. “I never purposefully, systematically build a brand,” Yan says. “I just do it and have fun. There’s more freedom to do what I want to do.”

He maintains firm control of his ventures and argues the freedom lets him guide his own path. By handling his own affairs, he is more confident about the challenges as they come. “What I’ve learned since getting involved with this business is that oftentimes things don’t turn out the way that you like,” he says. “So, always be prepared, be patient and look at the bright side.”

One of his most recent challenges involved capturing the current scene abroad—hand-pulled noodles, dim sum and wok-fired entrées—and training a foreign staff to adapt to American cultural norms. As a man of the camera, Yan wanted his new restaurant to feature an open kitchen for presentation. Most Chinese restaurants stay away from an open kitchen concept, he says, and have their wok stations facing a wall.

“When you face the wall, you never have to look happy or smile,” he says. “Here, you have to look like you enjoy your work. The body language of wok cooking with the flame is just like watching fireworks, so if you do not have an open kitchen, you’re really losing the excitement.”

But what Yan wants, Yan gets. So much so that even a six-month construction setback and logistical issues couldn’t stop him from opening his dream restaurant. Though he has faced challenges with every new venture—whether it’s becoming a television chef, author, educator or restaurateur—he says the key to his success was remaining true to himself and his vision. He advises young chefs to not copy personalities, but to find their own strengths, act from their gut and create their own brand.
TECHNIQUES A MASTER CHEF WOULD MASTER
If your sights are set on stardom, conquer Yan’s list of must-have skills: 

1. Know how to prepare a good stock, which is essential to any type of cuisine.

2. Hone your professional knife skills. It does not matter what kind of meal you’re preparing (simple or complex)—good knife skills are important.

3. Have a good understanding of the science behind cooking.

4. Become familiar with and have an appreciation for the various ethnic ingredients and cuisines from around the world.

5. Always keep your passion, creativity and love of good food.

published in Food Fanatics on April 17, 2013

What comes around, goes around within the camaraderie of the kitchen brethren, as restaurants are increasingly putting hospitality back into the industry by taking care of their industry friends’ shift meals.

Along with boosting staff morale and throwing props to your neighbors, establishing an occasional comida swap can be a great opportunity to switch up the usual offerings by culling the talents of a nearby restaurant. At Flora in Oakland, Calif., Chef de Cuisine Yoni Levy regularly trades American dishes like mini burgers with quail eggs, bacon and gruyere in exchange for Spanish dishes like duck paella from Chef Paul Canales at neighboring restaurant, Duende. Chef-owners Carrie and Michael Nahabedian of Naha in Chicago also sent burgers across the street to Rick Bayless’s Frontera Grill, and in return, they sent a huge spread of Mexican food.

Staff meal exchanges can also help lighten the load on busier nights. Swaps have become a regular deal for Chef-partner Howard Hanna of The Rieger Hotel Grill & Exchange and his friend Patrick Ryan’s restaurant, Port Fonda in Kansas City, MO.

“Paddy usually does ours on Friday nights, which is great that my cooks don’t have to worry about doing family meal on a busy night. Then I cook for Port Fonda on Saturdays because we don’t do lunch and I have time,” Hanna says. “ It’s been really fun, and both of our staffs love it when they get to eat something different from another place.”

Swapping has become so common that last December, the crew at Chicago’s La Sirena Clandestina received an unexpected double dose of comida, courtesy of Vera Chef-owner Mark Mendez, who brought pozole, and Chef-owners Josh Kulp and Christine Cikowski, who brought their namesake fried chicken from forthcoming restaurant Honey Butter Fried Chicken.

Although the timing was a happy accident, it’s also indicative of how altruism remains the defining bond among foodservice workers. “It’s totally the brotherhood and generosity of chefs,” says La Sirena Clandestina’s Chef-owner John Manion says, noting that he owes Mendez’s staff a shift meal.

That said, extending your kitchen to another isn’t an everyday event, or even an option for all operations. In fact, in some corporate kitchens, that would probably be considered stealing. But for the chef-owned restaurants of the world, it can be a great way to establish local support among fellow operators by throwing a few dishes their way from time to time.

“All of the restaurants that do this are independently owned, indie rock restaurants,” Manion says. “You look at your bottom line every day with a microscope, but it’s not worth it to get bent out of shape over sending a couple dozen empanadas.”

published in Food Fanatics on January 31, 2013

Southern chefs are tired of apologizing for their food.

Deemed fried, fatty, loaded with butter or ignorant, this misunderstood regional cuisine has suffered serious insult for years. It’s no one’s fault, really. The ingredients just weren’t there.

Over the past two decades, a movement has been building across the South and beyond as chefs resurrect a culinary tradition through modernist techniques, sourcing near extinct ingredients and reintroducing good ol’ fashioned storytelling.

The result is a contemporary Southern cuisine heavy on seasonal vegetables and driven by historical inspiration.

SEEDS OF CHANGE

When Chef Frank Stitt opened his acclaimed Highlands Bar and Grill in Birmingham, Ala., in 1982, ingredients as simple as stoneground grits seemed impossible to find. Mass produced quick grits were the industry norm.

“For a few years, I had to go to a health food store to buy organic stoneground grits until I contacted a source in North Carolina and bought them directly,” Stitt says.

Stitt, along with esteemed chefs Louis Osteen, formerly of Louis’ Charleston Grill in Charleston, S.C., and Ben and Karen Barker, formerly of Magnolia Grill in Durham, N.C., were among the first to champion better regional ingredients and refined cuisine in the 1980s, bringing a cross-pollination of ideas to the first Salute to Southern Chefs gathering in 1992 in Charleston. For the next six years, these annual dinners provided a forum for Southern chefs from Texas to Washington, D.C., to learn about each other’s regional nuances, and more importantly, to find out who had the goods.

As the Salute to Southern Chefs dissolved, an academic institute, the Southern Foodways Alliance, began to take shape at the University of Mississippi. Founders John Egerton and John T. Edge, along with a panel of 48 contributors, began documenting the oral histories of gumbo cooks, oyster mongers, boudin makers and other working-class culinary artisans. Many chefs credit the organization as the catalyst of the new Southern table.

“In white tablecloth restaurants, what you see is chefs reinterpreting provincial foodways,” Edge says. “That seems a great flowering of the research we’ve done over the years.”

A REGULAR SOUTHERN REVIVAL

Stitt now has an abundance of regional Alabama produce to choose from, such as North Chilton County peaches and apples, and Cullman County sweet potatoes. The rebirth of heirloom varieties has fostered creativity, bringing a dash of modernity to traditional Southern dishes. “When I grew up, there was always pickled peppers and hot pepper vinegar that were used on the table,” Stitt says. “I think we’ve gotten a lot more creative with using persimmons or figs, and we didn’t have as many heirloom varieties as we do now.”

Sorghum, an ingredient that was nearly obsolete until recent years, has seen a huge comeback. It’s making a cameo on many menus, from being drizzled over johnnycakes at Holeman & Finch in Atlanta to enhancing the “Muddy Pond” baked beans at Beasley’s Chicken + Honey in Raleigh, N.C. It’s also touching desserts like the spicy sorghum pecans at Silo in Nashville, Tenn.

Aside from elevating quality, resurrected ingredients like sorghum, Carolina gold rice and bennecake flour symbolize traditional Southern home cooking. Teary-eyed customers are not uncommon at Husk in Charleston, S.C., says Chef-owner Sean Brock, whose diners wax nostalgic about the tomatoes or pork chops that remind them of their childhood. “People come to Husk because they’re hungry for a story and a connection and emotions,” he says. “It’s not about paying for something; it’s about experiencing something.”

REBUILDING LIFE BACK HOME

Like many Southern fine dining chefs, John Besh spent the early part of his career distancing himself from the cooking of his New Orleans home. “I took it for granted,” he says. “I wanted to go to Europe and learn a more refined style of cooking. Yet every time that I moved away, I craved coming home for that food that I grew up with.”

Blame the negative perception on stereotypes or widespread bastardized Southern cuisine—dishes saturated with spices and low-quality ingredients, and lacking the simple flavors from the “holy trinity” of Creole cooking: onions, bell pepper and celery.

“I think it’s just a backlash from so many poor touristy restaurants not applying great technique to the food and allowing it to become loosely defined into what most people think is Creole food,” Besh says. “I didn’t want to be one of those chefs who just threw a bunch of stuff in a pan and called it Creole.“

Yet when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans in 2005, Besh realized the area was at risk for losing its culture and cuisine. His passion for New Orleans regional cooking renewed, spawning an empire of nine properties, including James Beard award-nominated restaurant, August.

Besh and his contemporaries, like Susan Spicer of Bayona and Donald Link of Herbsaint and Cochon, are preserving regional cuisine using throwback recipes with a refined, seasonal edge. Favorites like gumbo, étouffée, boudin and fried okra often fit the bill. “Building authenticity comes from your background,” Besh says. “I always say the proper way to make a gumbo is the way that your mama made it. It comes down to the rudimentary food, family and table.”

THE SOUTHERN DISCIPLES

The definition of “Southern” is characterized by more than a geographical border, which has many interpretations. Over time, Southern microcosms have popped up across America—in Chicago, the San Francisco Bay Area and New York City. Some purists will always contest these enclaves’ authenticity, but Stitt argues that replicating the spirit of Southern cooking is no different than mastering any other ethnic cuisine.

“You need to understand the history of a dish, the ingredients that are important to it, and then you can represent your own take on that dish,” Stitt says.

In fact, it was a Yankee—Ari Weinzweig from Zingerman’s Roadhouse in Ann Arbor, Mich.—who introduced Stitt to a bacon-infused seafood dish called Carolina Fish Muddle from coastal North Carolina.

Still, ambassadors looking to redefine Southern cuisine haven’t always been welcomed with open arms. When Chef Paul Fehribach opened his 2008 coastal Southern restaurant Big Jones in Chicago, diners accused him of being anything but authentic. With only a handful of restaurants executing French Quarter or meat ‘n three-style concepts, Fehribach had plenty of room to play with regional dishes.

Ingredients such as Sea Island red peas and Carolina gold rice were still new to the Midwest market, so Fehribach decided to spark dialogue by dating a dish from 1730—a Gullah Island version of Hoppin’ John called “Reezy Peezy.” Its success inspired a 2012 overhaul of his menu, which now includes historically inspired and dated dishes.

“It started as a move to pass the narrative aspect of dining,” Fehribach says. “I thought, what a great opportunity to show people how regionally distinctive Southern food is and how it’s not just this narrow set of dishes like fried chicken and barbecue pork shoulder.”

Even in the South, redefining regional cuisine is relatively new. In Miami, a city dominated by palm trees and Latin culture, Chef Jeff McInnis was free from competition when he opened Yardbird in October 2011. Alongside the roster of fried chicken and shrimp ‘n grits, Yardbird’s menu is peppered with Floridian touches like South Florida mangoes, Apalachicola oysters and Key West pink shrimp. Like Fehribach, McInnis has seen a upswing of competing restaurants since making a mark in his area.

“South Florida is more of a Latin community and cuisine, but I think it was the right time to bring a little bit more of the South back to South Florida,” McInnis says. “It wasn’t difficult by any means—it was something people wanted because there was a void here.”

THE FUTURE OF SOUTHERN CUISINE

After unearthing the historical meaning behind regional American cooking, chefs are putting a personal spin on it.

At Seersucker in Brooklyn, N.Y., pimento cheese is packed into cannelloni with gran queso, pickled collard stems and surryano ham chip. Inspired by a trip to Japan, Brock began a quest to find Southern “dashi”—the essence of his local cuisine—using regional ingredients like collard greens to produce seaweed or “Kentuckyaki,” fried chicken wings with pig ear lettuce wraps and pickled cabbage. “There is a certain sacredness of being proud of the land and the connection to those farm-raised products,” Stitt says. “Now, chefs in the South and people who love Southern food are able to use great ingredients—and they’re much more available. That’s been a really big evolution in the past 30 years.”

published in Time Out Chicago as part of an EL stop series on January 24, 2013

A mecca for celebrity chef worship, this stop, added in May 2012, offers optimal dinner hopping between the Fulton Market and Randolph Street restaurant rows. Walk to Next (953 W Fulton Mkt) and the Aviary (955 W Fulton Mkt), Grant Achatz’s ticketed, concept-shifting restaurant and adjoining bar, or Moto (945 W Fulton Mkt, 312-491-0058), Homaro Cantu’s flagship restaurant. Part kitchen, part laboratory, it has been the testing zone for culinary innovation and patents for nearly a decade—and may be the most fun white-tablecloth experience in Chicago. Under the stop, rising stars Mark and Liz Mendez are the power couple behind Vera (1023 W Lake St, 312-243-9770), a chef-driven wine bar. Mark mans the kitchen, which pumps out mind-blowing Latin dishes such as duck paella with chorizo, chestnuts and roasted shallots, while Liz runs the wine list and is dead set on getting Chicagoans hooked on sherry. And former Más chef John Manion makes his return with La Sirena Clandestina (954 W Fulton Mkt, 312-226-5300), his coastal Latin American restaurant that draws heavily on Manion’s time spent in Brazil—and doesn’t take reservations. Space is precious and fills up quickly, particularly at the bar that’s open until 2am.

Read more at Time Out Chicago.

published in Time Out Chicago on December 13, 2012

Put six Jewish women in a room and ask them who makes the best brisket, and each one will claim her own. Ask good Jewish sons or daughters the same question, and they’ll vouch for their matriarch’s recipe—even if only to avoid the guilt trip. As a member of the tribe, I make no secret of the fact that I worship my grandma’s cooking (I weep for gentiles who aren’t blessed with a Jewish grandmother), and it was during a recent gushing session that I found a fellow enthusiast: Jason Vincent, the executive chef of Nightwood.

As it turns out, the Nightwood kitchen staff includes five Jewish cooks, and they’ve been experimenting with dishes that showcase the pride (and sometimes the shame) of Jewish cooking. It started with the idea to add brisket to the menu around Rosh Hashanah. “When we decided we were going to try [brisket], everybody piped up with ‘my mom does it this way,’ ‘my mom does it this way,’ ” Vincent says. Vincent’s own family brisket was made the old-fashioned way: brown sugar, potatoes and carrots tossed in a Crock-Pot. But initially the staff used the family recipe of another cook, Aaron Kabot—a traditional method that calls for prunes, which disintegrate to add sweetness and body to the sauce.

Having mastered tradition, the Jews of Nightwood started experimenting. They roasted a brisket until it was juicy but chewy, then sliced it thin. Customer feedback was not exactly positive.

“We were trying to soften the blow, calling it ‘Not Your Aunt Ruthie’s Brisket’ to make people understand that this wasn’t going to be some brisket braised to shit,” Vincent says. “We do know how to cook brisket. This was just a different way to do it.” (To the shock of no one, it was Nightwood’s older clientele that was most adamant about how brisket should be prepared.)

So onward the Jews trekked, and after some experimentation, they stumbled on the current iteration: the six-hour brisket. It starts by being rubbed with a tomato sauce. Then the brisket gets smoked for an hour—a period during which the tomato sauce gets caramelized. Finally, the brisket is set over steaming whey (leftover from Nightwood’s housemade ricotta) for five hours to tenderize.

Would the Jews of Nightwood stop there? No. They’ve taken the weekly changing brunch menu as their canvas for additional Jewish experiments. Now, what they come up with is almost never kosher (Vincent was crowned the Prince of Porc at the 2012 Grand Cochon, after all). But the dishes are unmistakably Jewy. There’s housemade matzo for the matzo-meal pancakes with “gelt butter” (melted Hanukkah chocolate coins mixed with butter); brisket latkes; and the very unkosher McMatzo Cubano: a breakfast sandwich with ham, pork, cheese, pickles and mustard wedged between matzo brei. “We start with an idea and find out what makes it interesting,” Vincent says (though he admits no amount of experimentation could make Manischewitz palatable).

In typical Nightwood fashion, menu items are dependent on what comes in from the farm that week, but the brisket usually makes an appearance on Shabbat (Friday night) for $22. Not coincidentally, that’s the same night a (slightly better) version can be found at my grandma’s house.

Read more at Time Out Chicago.

published in Time Out Chicago on December 6, 2012

Akiko Nails (Nancy Angelair Salon, 1009 N Rush St, fourth floor, 312-943-3011)
Independent nail artist Akiko Nemoto uses a steady hand and collection of decals like crystals, glitter, studs and imported stickers from Japan to achieve stunning hand-painted designs. She offers holiday color combo ombré nail art ($15 per nail) as well as snowflakes, Christmas ornaments and even message nail art ($5–$8 per nail).

AstroWifey (astrowifey.wordpress.com or styleseat.com/ashleycrowe for appointments, 773-241-4120)
Diverting from classic Christmas designs, freelance nail artist AstroWifey (a.k.a. Ashley Crowe) has whipped up a sparkly array of sophisticated shellac no-chip nail art with jewels, Swarovski crystals, foils and glitter. Shellac manicures are gentle on natural nails and have a two-week shelf life to last through the holidays. Manicures start at a base price of $35 and designs start at $3 per nail.

Naughty Nail’z (3545 W Armitage Ave, 773-252-6242)
All that glitters is gold—and silver—at Naughty Nail’z with silver and gold MINX mani-pedis on sale for $75 until New Year’s Day. Because Naughty Nail’z specializes in freehand art, virtually any holiday style (hello, Hanukkah!) is game. Nail technicians can transform nails into anything from snowmen and striped candy canes to full Christmas trees. Manicures are a steal at $15 for a basic manicure and $35 for no-chip services, with holiday designs for $1 per nail.

In a pinch
Whether your holiday nail budget was exhausted on gifts or you just forgot to schedule a mani (again), you can always go the mainstream route. Cosmetic giants like Revlon, Maybelline and Sally Hansen offer the no-dry style strips popularized in Japan. Just slap them on and file them down in less than five minutes. (You can find a pack for less than $10 at any drug store.)

Read more at Time Out Chicago.

published in Food Fanatics in Fall 2012

Ralph Primo had never mixed batter, let alone fried dough, when he offered $500 to stake claim on a failing strip mall doughnut shop in 1956. Today, his Primo’s Westdale Donuts still stands as Los Angeles’s premier doughnut hole. Such impulsive dives into the unknown have inspired a new wave of designer doughnut shops from coast to coast, each with unique spins on the classic morning pastry. Their success is varied, but one thing holds true across the board: they’re satisfying customer cravings for a sweet, filling and comforting treat that can be eaten out of hand and on the run. Now, doughnuts have been reborn as fun and creative: studded with bacon, glazed with high-end chocolate or rolled in childhood cereal.

DOUGHBOY PIONEERS

Primo and his wife, Celia, were small business amateurs when they opened the doughnut shop—and benefited as the only game in town. “Today, people would tell me to develop a business plan and other considerations, but at the time, we just went for it,” Primo says, adding that the $500 to hold the retail space was originally earmarked as a down payment for his first home. “That’s the great thing about being young and stupid.”

Primo’s epitomizes the power of customer loyalty, serving doughnuts to generations of dedicated families, which is how it’s endured competition from convenience stores and encroaching franchise doughnut shops.

Government regulations like zoning laws, taxation and new state trans-fat guidelines have hit the operation hard. The shop has proven to be a stable source of income, but Primo insists it’s not a get-rich business. “It’s a tough nut,” he says, “but it’s a tremendous ride to be your own boss and create your own doughnuts.”

Overall, the morning day-part has become a thriving one, allowing for the rise of quick-service breakfast concepts like Dunkin’ Donuts and daring upstarts like Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland, Ore.

When Kenneth “Cat Daddy” Pogson and Tres Shannon opened their 24-hour Voodoo Doughnuts in 2003, skeptics abounded. Cupcakes were the food industry darlings, and doughnuts sold at a national average of 40 cents apiece. With signature frills like extra frosting, crushed Oreos and bacon, Voodoo peddled doughnuts that required a higher price. Yet within a week of opening, the shop gained cult status.

“No one believed me, but I thought the nighttime would outsell the daytime,” says Pogson, whose shop rings in the most business at 2 a.m. “We purposefully opened in the drinking district because people get the munchies at night. Plus, in order to be open for the 6 a.m. rush, I have to be there all night anyway. If customers are there, might as well sell what you got.”

Nearly a decade later, Voodoo Doughnuts’ three shops are rarely without a long line at all hours of the day. At the flagship location in Portland, a team of 16 to 20 people work nonstop to maintain production demands of stocking 100 varieties and selling up to 20,000 doughnuts per day.

BECOMING A CULT MASTER

Like Voodoo, Chicago’s Doughnut Vault gained celebrity status quickly, but its meteoric rise came through social media. Three months before unveiling the shop, owner Brendan Sodikoff created the Tumblr blog of an elusive pastry chef known only as “François,” who documented doughnut-making from proofing to glazing. Every few days, he teased locals with mouth-watering photos of fluffy chocolate cake and golden glazed doughnuts, along with historical tidbits and peeks into the shop’s construction. By the opening, Sodikoff had secured his initial customers with virtually no marketing costs. Social media continues to grow his customer base.

A year and a half later, Doughnut Vault’s social media accounts provide live updates about available flavors and the length of the customer line. They also help keep tabs on customer requests. “Social media makes people feel connected to the business and want to get involved,” Sodikoff says.

As for any shop with a would-be cult following, exposure is key. The Internet has provided essential support for even longtime operations like Primo’s. Accolades from Yelp and online foodie forums helped Primo attract new business after losing several corporate accounts during the economic downturn.

For Voodoo Doughnuts, video has played a pivotal role in making the shop a tourist destination. Shannon and Pogson’s wacky personas are a natural draw for the camera, primed after former gigs in bands, and stints as a wrestling announcer and game show host, respectively.

Airy fried dough is only part of the reason customers wait outside Doughnut Vault  at 8:30 a.m. The real secret is Sodikoff’s business model, which allows him to rake in $500,000 annually from this side operation, which usually sells out of doughnuts in less than four hours. Once the inventory is gone, doors close for the day.

Taking a cue from established boutique shops like Doughnut Plant in New York, Sodikoff carved a space within his existing craft cocktail salon, Gilt Bar, allowing for a minimal investment (roughly $50,000) and shared infrastructure. Limited storefront hours also help lower labor costs, providing breathing room elsewhere.

“You can produce a doughnut that’s 10 to 15 percent food cost, or you can make a product that’s 40 percent food cost,” Sodikoff says. “We tend to use high-quality ingredients like premium chocolate and fresh butter, so our food costs are usually in the high 20s.”

At Primo’s, food costs are a steep 40 percent due to pricier ingredients like soy shortening, which adheres to recent trans-fat guidelines without compromising the textural stability of his product. Voodoo’s Pogson says his base food costs are exceptionally low, but add-ons like Oreos and bacon can add up fast.

Voodoo Doughnuts generates additional revenue, however, with branded merchandise, a self-owned ATM (the shop is cash only) and even voodoo-themed weddings. Pogson has officiated a few hundred weddings since the store opened, charging $25 for fake weddings and $200 to $300 for bona fide ceremonies.

“It’s ‘the $5 Date,’ where you can buy two doughnuts, two cups of coffee and still have a quarter left for the jukebox,” Pogson says. “In bad times, people need that. For me, it’s been a recession-proof business.”

DOUGHNUT VS. DONUT

Grammar dictates that donut is only used in business names as the informal version of doughnut.

THE BLACK MAGIC BEHIND VOODOO DOUGHNUTS

The mascot:
The Voodoo Doll is yeast raised, filled with raspberry jelly, and topped with chocolate frosting and a pretzel stake.

Fastest seller:
The maple bacon bar

Time required to make a doughnut:
8 hours

MORE ON THE RISE?

As more doughnut shops enter the playing field, the trend shows no signs of slowing. Demand and revenue suggest a larger space might generate more profit, but Doughnut Vault’s success is rooted in its approach.

“Simplicity is key,” says owner Brendan Sodikoff. “Committing to do a few things really well is a great model.”

The concept is a proven boon to business and continues to inspire new shops.

published in Food Fanatics in Fall 2012

published in Food Fanatics in Fall 2012

Tired of snacking on unfulfilling baskets of cold bread and hard butter, Chef Stephanie Izard decided to take the dough into her own hands.

While plotting her highly anticipated Chicago-based restaurant, Girl & the Goat, the Top Chefwinner opted to implement an in-house artisanal bread program using higher quality products.

“More people are starting to bake their own bread or serve better quality bread,” she says. “But it costs money to have a bread baker in-house, as well as the ingredients.”

Charging for bread may seem outrageous—even offensive—but executed smartly with a bit of verve, it can add to the bottom line and strengthen a restaurant’s brand.

For Izard, her bread program complements the flavors on her menu. “You put so much time and care into every other dish that we wanted to treat the bread as a dish,” she says.

Izard has two bakers kneading bread daily. Paired with thoughtful condiments like carrot sage and tomato soup oils, the fresh baked bread comes at a cost—$4—which customers readily pay. Girl & the Goat offers three seasonal bread choices, and the most popular one is  typically among the top four  best-selling dishes of the night.

“It’s not our hugest profit margin,” she says. “It’s just taking that extra step and going above and beyond.”

Quality is the primary reason a restaurant charges for bread, but waste reduction is partly why Chef John Gorham asks $1 for it at his restaurants, Toro Bravo and Tasty ‘n’ Sons, in Portland, Ore. Sourcing bread from local artisanal bakeries like Grand Central Bakery and Fleur de Lis, and using premium olive oil and butter comes at a higher price than run-of-the-mill bread baskets. The minimal charge only supplements about 30 percent of the bread cost, but Gorham says it helps ensure that every bit is used.

“We’re getting really high-end, quality stuff at a pretty competitive price, so we really couldn’t afford to give it away,” Gorham says, adding that only the occasional diner asks for an explanation. “I’m paying for it; why wouldn’t the customer?”

Challenging restaurant norms didn’t work for Chef Carl Thorne-Thomsen, who tried to charge for a plate of bread, olives, prosciutto and olive oil when he opened his Kansas City restaurant,Story. “Our guests were aghast that they had to pay for bread,” Thomsen says. “We now serve bread complimentary, with the exception of the guest who wants to take a loaf home for $8.”

Restaurateurs who charge for bread and butter agree that the cost must be justifiable. “Everyone who charges for it definitely uses much better bread,” Gorham says. “It really comes down to the price point of the menu.”

But Gorham says the model is feasible—and growing.

Public Kitchen & Bar in Los Angeles and Peels in New York both charge $5 for freshly baked Parker House rolls accompanied by Vermont creamery butter, while The Bachelor Farmer in Minneapolis offer popovers with honey butter for $4.

At Foreign & Domestic in Austin, Texas, a pair of black pepper and gruyère popovers are $8. They’ve become so popular since the restaurant opened two years ago that owners Ned and Jodi Elliott branded a popover pan and sell it online with the recipe for $38.

Says Gorham of bread offerings, “I think it would work for any restaurant. I don’t see why a restaurant has to give something away for free.”

YOU CHARGE WHAAAAT?

Euclid Hall, Denver Bretzel bun, $2.50

The Walrus & the Carpenter, Seattle Bread and butter in sea salt and olive oil, $3

Eat Street Social, Minneapolis French baguette with garlic butter, $3

Back Bay, Boston Bread with eggplant and goat cheese puree, $4

Sotto, Los Angeles Housemade bread with olive oil, $3; with lardo pestato, $7; with burrata, $9

Momofuku Ssäm Bar, New York Bread with Vermont sea salt butter and whipped lard $8

Magnolia, Charleston, N.C. Housemade pimento cheese with Charleston flatbread $9

Published in Time Out Chicago on July 30, 2012

If three days of being sequestered among thousands of sweaty concertgoers in the sweltering heat at Lollapalooza isn’t enough rock action, rest assured there are plenty of killer options beyond the nearest Hard Rock Café. Don’t be surprised if you run into a few Lolla headliners paying tribute to the rock and culinary patron saint candles at Chow Town director Graham Elliot’s new gastro-temple, g.e.b. Neighboring restaurant Nellcôte may have been inspired by the Rolling Stones’s “Exile on Main Street,” but the clubbier weekend nights are a draw for the Champagne-guzzling electro-gods from Perry’s Tent. For those who lean more Black Keys than Kaskade, refuel at whiskey-driven watering holes like honky-tonk taqueria Big Star, or gastropub Longman & Eagle. Metalheads who head farther west to Avondale will find excellent company (and likely a substantial wait) at thrasher burger bar Kuma’s Corner, featuring an honorary Black Sabbath burger (blackening spice, chili, pepper jack, red onion). And if all else fails, there’s always the Ed Hardy brand of rock & roll at River North’s Rockit in stumbling distance from Grant Park.

Read more at Time Out Chicago.