day three: un-learning old habits

January 12, 2009

as snow fell on chicago outside, we spent day three in the kendall kitchens, pasting garlic with salt, mincing shallots and finely chopping parsley. Chef lamented aloud how small the shallots were when he first came to the united states. “we had to use so many more; we could not find them in this size back then,” he said, holding up an almost tennis ball-sized shallot.

i watched as he deftly removed the paper and made quick vertical and horizontal cuts. as he minced, the tiny cubes of shallot stacked themselves on the back of his knife and piled onto the cutting board. i was beginning to realize how different culinary training is from being a great home cook. it’s something like singing or painting. so many of us have the skills to do it well, but we often overlook the tools, technique and dedication required to become professional chefs.

for pete, that realization came when we moved to our station to practice mincing shallots. “oh god, i’ve been doing this ass backwards my whole life,” he said, his east coast accent coming through with a twinge of sarcasm.

the proper technique for chopping shallots or onions involves carefully removing the ends, while keeping the root to keep the layers together. next, you make parallel cuts into the shallot or onion along the grain.

then turn it 90 degrees to slice into it again a few times horizontally before stabilizing it to mince.

it didn’t matter that pete had cooked thanksgiving dinner for his family the past 20 years; he had to throw out the old tricks and learn this method.

the process of learning proper technique reminded me of a conversation i had a few months ago with Gaetano De Benedetto, the executive chef and owner of gaetano’s, an italian restaurant in forest park, ill. as a writer, professional work experience is so paramount to being marketable. i asked Gaetano if the case was similar in the restaurant industry.

“don’t you prefer to hire chefs who’ve had a lot of training in other restaurants?” i asked him over dinner at green zebra. “not necessarily,” he replied. “when chefs come from other restaurants, they bring their bad habits. i would almost prefer people with little training who are eager to learn. they aren’t set in their ways. that way we can show them proper techniques and style.”

i restrained myself from mincing the shallot in my own comfortable way at my station. it’s amazing how stubborn you can be about something as simple as chopping vegetables. as i worked, i imagined what day four would bring, since we were finally going to cook.