Anticiplate

Tuesday, I got some shocking news. They need me at Tavolata, one of the sister restaurants to A&O, and I am starting today. No goodbyes. No one last shift. Just, DONE. I have been at A&O since June 18, so almost three months to the day, I am saying goodbye to my comfortable home on Capitol Hill and entering into the gourmet ghetto of Ethan’s restaurant in Belltown.

My Sous Chef calls me and tells me he has warned the Sous Chef at Tavolata to be nice to me. Which, is a relief, I guess. But, I don’t really want special treatment, I just don’t want to be hazed so bad on my first day that I can’t even cook at all.

I decide that I am also going to get a new knife bag. I mean, do I really want to be berated again for that damn blue and brown polka-dotted knife bag? That is a big fat N-O.  It was funny the first time, but it will be tragic if I intentionally make myself a victim to it again.

Yesterday, I went to Sur La Table and bought a Shun Utility knife, a steel, and a new knife bag, and for the first time in my life got an “industry discount”. It felt odd, like when I get a discount for taking class at Steps on Broadway in New York City because I was part of Pacific Northwest Ballet. I got home, set up all of my knives in a row by size on a light blue towel and started stealing my knives like Chef Matt taught me. When I got to my ridiculously dull Wusthof Santoku, the first “good” knife I ever purchased, I had to steal it extra hard because it basically was as sharp as a pair of little kid scissors. As I am steeling it, back and forth at a 20 degree angle, swiping large strokes, and I slice the top knuckle of my left thumb. Of course. New Restaurant. New wound.

Classic, Kari.

I didn’t even react, I just went right to my bathroom, wrapped about a foot of gauze around my thumb to seal the wound, and went right back to steeling my knives. I am getting a hang of this “cutting my hand” thing. Of course, now I am going to look like a culinary idiot today when I go in and I have a bandage on my freaking thumb. Oh well. I am a novice, I guess.

I cooked a meal yesterday for my Moma and my brother. I haven’t really seen them at all this summer, especially since I have been cooking full time. So, it was not only a new experience for me, cooking in my new kitchen for the first “real” time, but it was also a new experience for them, eating my food now that I am on the path to being a Chef. I perused through the Locatelli cookbook and was inspired by a recipe for a shallow-fried Albacore Tuna Salad with French Lentils and Red Onions and Potato Gnocchi with Goat Cheese and Black Pepper. I listened to Frank, Michael, and Ella as I riced potatoes, sliced fish, brunoised carrots and celery, and finely minced shallots. I also drank a Peroni at 3:00pm. It was fantastic. Nothing beats cooking at home, alone, with just your thoughts and your messiness.

As I was in the final stages of making the gnocchi, I went to get my flour out, and realized I had no AP left. I had put whole wheat flour in the container before the move. Well, shit. So, I shrugged my shoulders, and starting making the gnocchi with the whole wheat flour. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t ideal. The gnocchi wasn’t as “tight” as it usually is with the AP flour. “Rustic” would definitely be the word for it. After making the gnocchi, I tossed the whole wheat flour because, to be quite honest, I don’t ever want to have an excuse to use it again.

I guess I should appreciate the fact that I can “ad-lib” at home because that is just NOT how it works in the restaurant business. You do what people tell you to do, and you don’t get to make your own decisions. You have to “make it work” which I have heard from Chefs a million times, no matter what the case is.

Tavolata is a fast-paced Northern Italian joint that primarily serves pasta, which of course, is the station I am going to start at today. I am, as my Sous Chef warned me, going to be the “pasta bitch”. When I think about how I felt that first day walking in to Anchovies & Olives this summer, I knew nothing, I had no expectations, and I was scared shitless. I am still scared, but I know that I am ready. I am sure the butterflies will return, full force, coming out of every appendage of my body.

But, it is time to move on. The next adventure awaits.

*Adapted from the Giorgio Locatelli Cookbook

Prep time: 20 minutes

Cook time: 20 minutes

Serves 4

1/4 lb. green lentils

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 celery stalk, chopped

2 garlic cloves, unpeeled

Bunch of sage

1 small red onion

1/2 lemon, juiced

Drizzle of olive oil

2 1/2 c. vegetable oil, for frying

10 oz. of fresh albacore tuna, diced into 1-inch cubes

4 big handfuls arugula

2 tbsp. zinfandel vinegar

6 tbsp. olive oil

1 shallot, minced

Picked flat leaf parsley

Kosher salt and black pepper

Put the lentils in a large pan of water with the celery, olive oil, garlic, and sage (no salt, or beans with toughen). Cover and bring to a boil. Then, once boiling, let simmer for 20 minutes, or until lentils are done. Once cooked, remove from heat, salt the water, and let cool in the cooking liquid to season.

Cut the red onion in half, leaving the root in tact, and slice thinly on a mandoline . Rinse under cold water to take away the bite, and then place in a bowl of ice water.

Take out about 1/4 c. of the lentils and place in a food processor. Add a little lemon juice. Pulse the lentils and slowly drizzle in some olive oil, just to create a lentil paste. Keep on the side.

Heat the vegetable oil in a heavy-bottomed, deep saucepan until it reaches 350 degrees (about 1/3 of the way full). Season the cubed tuna with a generous amount of salt and cracked black pepper. Using a spider, put 3-4 pieces of the tuna on the spider and gently dip them into the oil, keeping them resting on the spider. Cook for about a minute, until the tuna is crisp, but the inside is still light pink. Remove and drain on a paper towel lined plate and repeat with all of the remaining tuna, 4 pieces at a time.

Make the vinaigrette by whisking the 6 tbsp. of olive oil into the 2 tbsp. of zinfandel vinegar. Season with salt and pepper. Drain the remaining lentils. Toss them with some of the vinaigrette, about 2 tbsp of the minced shallots, and some of the flat leaf parsley. Set aside.

Squeeze the red onions and mix with the arugula. Toss some of the dressing into the arugula mixture.

Spoon the lentil puree onto a small white plate. Top with a big spoonful of the seasoned lentils. Top with the arugula and red onion mixture. Scatter the tuna around the plate, and drizzle the whole plate with more olive oil. Just for fun.