Creative Spaces

How to get into a creative space—I do not know, I start by walking around Tony’s in circles.

For a few hours a day, if I’m lucky, I exist in the kitchen just short of hanging a privacy please hotel door knocker off my neck. Pierre comes to greet me, back from his break, “Hi,” he reaches out his hand, “Don’t even start,” I tell him. Off he goes to do whatever he needs to do for dinner service while I’m stuck in eternal ponderment at 5:03 p.m.

Menu changing season is upon us and it is so much fun to widdle away at ideas until they come to life and delivered to you on the menu. Desserts, though—that’s where I am right now—that’s always a stretch.

Desserts are where I get the most catatonic. Like, here we go, Kate, get ready to stretch. You can’t put everything in an Isi and make it bubbles. Yes, you can. But bubbles are the first place my mind goes for desserts. And then it’s the eighty-year-old farmer hanging off the side of the road, dusty overalls, whiskers akimbo, with three front teeth spittling, “Hocklebarry Jarm.” And then louder, “Make Hocklebarry Jarmmmmm.” Okay, okay. Alright, alright, I’ll do huckleberry jam.

I like to create an organized mess in the beginning. Keep technical recipe books around by the likes of Thomas Keller, Grant Achatz, Heston Blumenthal, the Flavor Bible—they are my favorites. Especially Michael White’s Classico e Moderno because it still contains Tony Vallone applied yellow Post-it notes in his wavy script; beautiful, excellent, maybe add caviar.

Seasonal items charts are in that pile too, as well as our current menus; Bar, Lunch, Dessert, Pasta, Dinner, Tasting.  We work with many dedicated purveyors and they assist by dropping off price lists, catalogs, and samples. Regalis, D’Artagnan, Schoenmann Produce, Foods in Season, to name a few.

So, you gather all these things, and what I like to begin by doing is writing another messy list of items in season, items I’d like to work with. Right now that looks like; bluefoot mushrooms, white asparagus, nettles, veal cheeks, Iberico pork chop, sweetbreads, and huckleberries.

What recipes have I done lately for special dinners or tastings, what’s in the toolbox that hasn’t hit the menu yet, I write those down. Salmon gravlax butter, Duck egg yolk crème fraiche sauce, financier—let’s see if this creative work can be salvaged and we can save some time.

Then, with all these materials spread out, I silence the management and operational side of my brain—thankful for Donna, always encouraging me, Joey, our sous chef watching the line and the staff, Chelino, our kitchen manager and catering chef, Farish, our general manager who fixes an endless list of items, Scott, our wine director, Kennady, our bar director, Tricia, gatekeeper of the reservations, Lauren, Leila, and Deb our directors of Party, Lauri, our business manager, and of course every member of our staff who hum around killing it at their job to make sure Tony’s is working.  They ALL get involved here and there down the line—it’s impossible to create delicious food, just one person.

Back to the circles- existing in a space where combinations in my mind are presented and declined, presented and declined, some get written down, some just a fraction of thought- not wasted though. It is a journey.

Silence. Walking. I let my mind drift and drift, content that some moments nothing will come and then some… a firehose. Flipping pages, correlating, matching ingredients, unmatching ingredients. I like to do menu change sweeps, four a week or more, until I feel like we are refreshed. That’s how I was taught when I worked for Grant Gordon, who impressed upon me, I’d say, the majority of my technical kitchen skills.

Happy Birthday Mr. President. Yes, this must happen, to replace the Let Them Eat Cake dessert that featured all things Marie Antoinette; a decadent, miniature salted caramel popcorn cake with a glass of Demi-Sec to pair. Marilyn, you’re up, and thanks to a guest requesting “Watergate cake” back in December, this dish is really coming together with the string of costume pearls and my fire engine red lipstick to be tried out on our Ladies of Cotton Candy.

Financier—gosh this French almond cake is so good- we found a recipe and goosed it up with more of this and that for our Valentine’s Day menu—that’s where the old man’s hocklebarry jarm will end up with…dehydrated cognac? Hoping it works, hoping it doesn’t drool off the acetate film in the dehydrator overnight.

Semifreddo—it’s melons baby—just melons screaming at me, “Tart crème fraiche from the Isi, consommé!”—I had too, I had too. Is it out of a glass like a refreshing “float.” Yes, a semifreddo float is definitely what we will be calling it- glass or not. “You must break it in order to get the sweetness,” I tell Pierre in a throaty Russian accent as the compressed, pureed, melon pulp boils, almost ready to be strained through a fine linen.  He giggles.

Mignardises, those tasty little freebies at the end of the night—is it too crazy to make Campari and Monte Negro gelées that are tossed in an orange zest sugar? Those sweet yet cleansing Italian liqueurs the Pro’s grab for at the end of a big meal. But I’d also like to figure out a nougat too…

Oh, it’s madness, but it must be done—and when it comes to desserts and me, a million times before it’s right. Thank God for Samuel, our pastry chef, endless patience that man. He, Maria, and Cecilia, and I tackle the dessert menu and I am grateful for them, for everyone pulling on the oars, to the moon and back.