ABOUT JOE:
Joe served his apprenticeship and attended culinary school in Chicago
where he was born and raised. He also attended school in Abruzzo and
Tuscany. In addition to being Executive Chef at Trevi Restaurant in
Asheville, NC www.trevirestaurant.com,
he is a part time instructor at Heartpath in Asheville and Toscana Soparita
in Tuscany, Italy. Joe is also a food journalist.
"I was serving my apprenticeship
many years ago back in Chicago. There was a very well known French Chef
that owned a four star restaurant just down the street. I will always
remember eating there as it took my friends and I two months to save
enough money just to afford dinner. Anytime I heard this particular
Chef had been interviewed in a newspaper or magazine I would immediately
run out and buy a copy just to see what made him better then all of
the rest. There was one particular article that will stand out in my
mind probably even longer than his food. I remember the Chef stating
that even renowned as he was, he was no match for a loving mother carefully
preparing dinner for her own family. "When cooking," he stated,
"there is no substitute for a mother's love as an ingredient. That
statement has stayed with me all of these years.
Many of the guests I cook for I
get to know, although, I cannot possibly know them all. My love for
the craft of cooking has to compensate for not knowing each individual.
With each dish that I prepare in the professional kitchen I am mindful
of this. Still nothing seems to measure up to a hearty home cooked,
mom cooked meal. I feel very fortunate to have received the up bringing
that I did. There are many reasons for feeling this way. One reason
is my mom's hearty German fare and her repertoire of recipes. My mom
was born into a German family in Pennsylvania during the depression.
I'm sure they cooked whatever they could afford and did not even consider
a name for this type of old world artistry. I affectionately call it
'German Peasant Cuisine.'
Recently in a conversation with
my mom she pointed out that my Grandma made everything from scratch.
The whole family had to help except for my Uncle Dick and nobody knows
why he was excused. Everything from the bread that was made with leftover
boiled potato water to the canning of the vegetables was created in
their own kitchen and stored in their cellar.
During the bitter cold Chicago
winters of my own childhood I vividly remember the windows being iced
up on the outside and all steamy on the inside. This got to the point
where we could no longer see outside. That was all right with me because
everything I needed to see was on the inside, and soon to be on my plate.
It was mom preparing Sunday Supper and was started as soon as the breakfast
dishes were washed. The main entrees were anything from rump roasts
with mashed potatoes to braised pork with sauerkraut to boiled ham with
dumplings. One of the more unique, hearty winter meals I remember was
boiled chicken with gravy over waffles. I used to always ask for pancake
syrup with my waffles, a great way to ruin tradition. I do not recommend
this.
I never realized how much of an
impact my mom's cooking had on me until recent years. Professionally,
I now cook strictly Italian, a cuisine that I have studied from one
region to the next, a cuisine that possesses so much history that I
could study it for the rest of my life and not know as much as I would
like to. Surprisingly, there are regions in Italy, up near the Austrian
border that traditionally serve roast pork and sauerkraut among other
dishes from my childhood favorites. Recently, I created stuffed roast
loin at work for that evening's special. As the team of cooks tried
it they remarked 'like butter, baby.' I simply replied that it was not
one of the things I was taught in culinary school, but one that came
straight from home.
To this day my mom still insists
that she hates to cook. The question that has perplexed me for years
is that if you hate to cook so much how do you make such incredible
meals for us? Then one day it all came together for me and this is what
I deducted. My mom did not have to like to cook because of the love
that she has for us as a family. Love is enough of an ingredient to
over power any enthusiasm that might have been lacking.
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