A Journey from Before to After in the Gulf

Spending time with family is always refreshing.  When life consists of a work-home-work-home eternity, and the hours eventually stretch into months, there is nothing like being surrounded by loving and supportive people at least for a few days at a stretch.  Amidst one such precious getaway, I had the opportunity to hit the wide open bays of Padre Island, TX for an afternoon and found some beautiful trout out looking for a bite.

Captain 'Ron' was nice enough to show us the sweet spots and we brought in several nice keepers despite massive winds that had the Gulf heaving offshore enough to keep us in the bay.  I can't describe the freedom to anyone who hasn't been there, out in the salt on a lovely 86 degree mid-morning, rockin' to the beat of the waves against the motor, cold beer getting warm fast and still tasting like the sweat off a mermaid's breast...divine!  And even reeling in a little perch can be exciting for those of us who don't have the luxury of doing this every day, not to mention a 26" speckled trout!



South Texas is magical when juxtaposed with the alleys and subway tunnels of New York City.  Of course, New York has its own magic and we can all attest to that who have donned the shrouds of her shadowy sunrise and been lulled to sleep by her siren's song (pun intended)...but Texas, oh sweet Texas!  There is something to be known about these humble people filled with love and adoration and coated with a sticky layer of gruff thistles and brush.  Our captain was a solid Texas fisherman, born in Houston and now permanently vacationing in the bosom of the Great State: 'The Valley'.  Arriving on the boat, he was straight to business - in fact, the previous night he asked more than twice if we were sure we would make a 9am dock call, and upon his third inquiry, informed us that we would be receiving his wake up call at 8:30...and that we did!

BEFORE

AFTER

After cleaning our catch, we met with Ron at a local restaurant where we had our fresh catch cooked right then and there to our delight and sampled one of the Gulf's greatest bounties:  the mystical Gulf Oyster.  Being a part of the whole process of one's meal is an experience that I think more Americans should enjoy on a regular basis.  There is something deeply nourishing about the food that you just caught, respectfully dispatched and then cooked not 20 minutes later (not to say we weren't sampling the provisions as soon as they were cut...we are certainly not squeamish about raw foods from the wild).  I would love to see more Americans becoming more in touch with their food in general and this is certainly a fun way to go about it.

I'm glad we decided to go ahead as we thought it may have been a bit steep to pay what we were asked to pay for a half-day trip into the bay.  Thanks to Mark Musatto at Airline Seafood in Houston for the perspective and advice, I miss you up here in NY, bro!  As an aside, and regarding the character of Texans in general, I would just like to mention that we had not paid Ron for the trip, proceeded to get in separate vehicles and agreed to meet at the restaurant to settle up.  I can't see this happening in many places on this vast planet's surface...take from that what you will.

Fish is becoming more and more of a love of mine, probably inherited from my grandfather Lee Grandison Wiley, who was a sea-faring man for his whole life.  I have myriad fond memories of trips to Galveston, boloney sandwiches (soggy), cans of Big-K grape soda (dented, and slightly rusty), triscuits and cheese whiz (still delicious) and me and my grandpa not catching a damned thing all day.  Those were the formative days of my youth, looking back.  Days that I didn't realize the value of even remotely until now, when we would get back to his Galveston apartment complex, sun-drained and red as Valentine's candies and Christmas ribbons.  Just enough daylight left for a dip in the pool, an old fashioned for him and an ice-cold country time lemonade for me...wow...that was intense.

This last foray into those salty Gulf waters was intense as well.  After passing 20 or more years since those early times, I have a fair amount of perspective, fair enough to see the value of half a day on a fishing boat with a couple of good ol' boys, mixing the spray of the mid-morning wake with the mist off a cold can of Bud Light, bouncing to the rhythm of the big blue heart of the world, squinting into the sun and looking for the sweet spot.  I think we found it, y'all.  I'm sure we did.

Reflections on Beauty and Value

I know I promised deets about the upcoming Theatre of Comfort Dinners in my last post...rest assured that they are on the way.  However, I do have a little detour from the fervor of foodiedom as I've had some insights over the past week that I feel it important to share.  I'm not sure how to approach this blog best as I have little experience with these sorts of things so, if this post is somehow wildly inappropriate then let me know.  I'll take it down.  I feel like this medium is a form of expression with a little bit of wiggle room and as a chef blog (I'm a chef) this may give you some of the meat of our real lives and let you know that we're not just food jockeys.  We emote.

One of the best things about having a mind rooted in the fertile soil of positivity is that no matter what happens, you can always see the beauty of it and you can always find something of value.  No matter what.  It is one of my many blessings in this life, for which I am extremely grateful, that I am surrounded by these positive, pro-active people.  When things look glum and I'm facing potential crisis (plural?), these people give me the perspective I need to see through the smog of doom and gloom that minds can so easily create.  The longer I'm alive, the more of these situations I seem to come across and perhaps one day I will find the key to creating that perspective more immediately.  Heaven knows I offer it to all manner of people around me whenever I can.  Sometimes its hard to take your own advice?  Anyhow, it feels great to have gratitude in any form; as long as it lives at the core of your being, you will remain free.

Beauty is reality.

Those freckles.  God's contribution to her subtle perfection, slightly twisted lips and the muddled scent of our blessed morning.  Beauty is the shape to which my hand conforms and its tender confirmations.  Beauty defies comparison.  It is boundless and timeless wherever and whenever it may be found.  Beauty is a gracefully opened hand of familiar form, a nurturing palm and a steady gaze.  Least of all does beauty expect or proclaim neither provision nor action.  She arises like the thoughtlessly shining sun.  Reaction-less she reflects all she receives, like the moon without effort or desire.  Like a prism she absorbs the harshest beam and diffuses it into a sparkling floral array.  She is this way on her innermost shore.

Value is clarity.

There is no common value but value through virtue, which is the least common on the shore.  Value is not a glistening steel reflection or a gemstone's turn and polish.  It is not the flickering ticker of the world's economic straw man.  Value is the shape of her hand and its subtle channels intended on their targets.  By its nature it defies expectation because it is boundless and timeless, giving itself wherever and whenever it may go forth into the world.  It is formed and passed by an opened hand, by and honest and gazing eye.  Value has shed its proclamations.  It only acts silently, thoughtlessly, pursuing without competition or comparison, seeing its own innate perfection reflected in the mirror of Creation.  Inside and out.  Bones to skin.  On the shore.

I can see the vast universe of beauty and value scratching at her surface, like so many of us.  What a struggle to deny ourselves such a gift as realizing our own beauty and value.  I express boundless and timeless appreciation for this amazing experience of love and life.  I have a newfound admiration and respect for the Malaysian and Australian cultures.  I have some of the best memories of my entire life thus far and a way to reference New York as maybe not such a hard city after all.  With someone like that to share it with, even the harshest environs can become a paradise.  But sometimes the timing just ain't right and ain't nothing you can do about it except keep moving and be grateful for the gorgeous gift that God lent you for the day.

These are the lessons that give me real perspective and allow my eyes the freedom to perceive her real beauty and her clearest, deepest value.  She will always be an incredible being and I will always honor the place within her where she and I exist eternally, at peace with our source.  Thank you, Doris.  Namaste.

The Discovery of a Chef

I believe that our nation's currently developing fascination with food is a sign that we are finally developing a culture of our own.  We have been around for over 200 years as a nation and, because of the entrepreneurial nature of our experiment, we have bent towards a reputation as masquerading mountebanks, cavalier capitalist cowboys and sponges for whatever culture serves us best momentarily and monetarily.  I believe we are growing out of this adolescent transience and emerging as fiery-eyed and battle-hardened young samurai with a burgeoning sense of identity and purpose.  Across time and culture, food has always been a defining factor of groups of people.  A way to tell what village you're from, what you put in your family's curry blend, how you tie your salumi, how long you soak your salted fish and with what, these are the things that signal who is family and who is foe.  Food is as vital to who we are and who we choose to be as sex or war.  It is a matter of life and death and we, as global citizens, are finally realizing that.  I hope.

I graduated from college with a philosophy degree in 2003.  Was supposed to take my LSATs and go to law school.  The family approved.  They would have given me a "free" ride because they supported these kinds of dreams and aspirations - after all, they were the ones dreaming them up.  I was sick.  My DNA donors lost their ranks because they no longer honored the moniker of family.  Thanks to a long time mentor named Charles Avants, who has far and away earned his rank, I went culinary-lock, stock and barrel.  My DNA donors rejected the assumption that in following one's bliss there is inherent and imminent success.  Of the living remnants, only my reluctant grandmother would prove truly assistant and I'm sure she would be beaming if she could be here now to beam.  Charles and my real family formed a support structure for me and will always exemplify how I want to raise my own.  The mission was set: use the culinary path to seek my enlightenment and to bring enlightenment to others.  I trailed off to New York in search of some magical land, streets paved in foie gras onto which shined lamppost rays of golden sauternes.

New York was the obvious choice for several reasons.  I had done a short stage (unpaid internship) in an amazing new Houston restaurant owned by Jean-Gorges Vongerichten who's worldwide operations are based in New York.  I had never even imagined food like that before.  Wow.  There were far more chefs whom I admired in New York at that time and they were setting trends and raising the bar higher there than anywhere else I could find.  I needed a huge fire under my ass if I was ever to have a chance at succeeding in this business and where better than the 'city that never sleeps'?  Logical reasons aside, I also felt this driving compulsion to go there.  Like some pied piper was blaring some lyrical melody in the core of the city and he somehow resonated its hypnotic rhythm all the way down south to the great state of Texas and lulled this southern gentleman into the streetlights.

Obviously New York will always hold a special place for me, although I can't see myself living here permanently.  It has brought me more lucky breaks than I can fathom including meeting here a woman who has impacted my life for the better in a most permanent way.  It has wandered me into many of its finest kitchens, even if just for a day.  It has hardened me against its streets of molten concrete in the summers, it has submerged me in its dank, rat-infested basement apartments and it has lifted me to the very pinnacle of nature's essence via perfect spontaneous views and burt sienna drenchings in autumn's leafy tears.

When I left China in 2008 I decided that Texas, rather than New York, would be the wisest choice as I was beginning to see family life as a plausible option, which concept I had not previously formed in my somewhat socially underdeveloped brain.  I spent the next three years looking for that plausible option.  By the time its potential became real I was already on to the next chapter of my adventure.  Back in the city of dreams.

Yelapa had been the culmination of many cultural culinary experiences including Texan, New Yorekan and Chinese.  I was blessed on many levels with a project to start from scratch with a minimal budget and no personal financial risk.  Score!  Rob put up the capital, Chuck and I did our respective parts to build the concept and an amazing team came together through an intense push of energy.  I hadn't worked that hard since my first days in the business and it was somehow invigorating at the same time as it was physically and emotionally draining.  We all poured our hearts into that place and it became a throbbing part of this young and vibrant restaurant movement that has now taken Houston by storm.

What an amazingly fertile ground we got into and at just the right time.  I was swept away by the accolades that came almost daily.  I began to really learn the value of people and also began to learn the true intimacy of cooking for them.  There are a ton of guys out there making amazing food, but I would venture that for most of you, there are only a select few who you allow the honor of making amazing food for you.  Cooking for others was a critical stumbling block for me until I got to Aurora.  Houston was very good to me, as good as I was to her at the very least, but she never brought the same luck as New York.  Somehow in Houston there were always strings.

Riccardo Buitoni and the Aurora/Emporio family have really tamed me somehow with their open and almost overbearing kindness.  The whole series of events since I arrived in New York on my second 'tour' has been really charmed by some new kind of freedom.  It is as if my doubts and insecurities are being scrubbed away at some angelic carwash and I'm being prepped for some cosmic auto show.  I feel truly blessed in a permanent way from the inside out (even though its things on the outside that seem to be doing the blessing).  I hope that my food reflects similar growth because then it will surely nurture those who really need it as it was always intended to.  The goal of cooking is to make people feel really well looked after and safe, for them to leave with a sense of peace and well being that they would go to their own mothers to find again.

And so here I am on the playground.  Throwing flavors around and doing my best to take care of all the people around me who take such good care of me. Thanks y'all and welcome to this Chef's Momentum.