Catharsis

Is that how one says it? As simply as that. "Craig is dead. Craig Henderson of DeMolay is dead." "The soup is hot; the soup is cold." "Craig is living; Craig is dead."

This post isn’t about food. It’s about my friend Craig Henderson, who died two weeks ago today. He was 49 years old.

He was one of the best friends I have ever had. Craig was a big man – with a bigger heart. I miss him, and I needed a way to vent my thoughts in the way Bob Siebold did with his beautiful eulogy. Bob couldn’t read it himself. I am sure that I couldn’t have either.

Elegy From A Cook

My first (and only) shot at moving from Sous Chef to Chef at a another restaurant came at the urging of Fred Rzemek. I had known Fred for years, starting as one of his Lawyers (we even held our holiday parties at his various restaurants). He is the one who first induced me to enter cooking as a career, and when he decided to open Fredi, I was on board. Fredi was located in the quiet village of Clarence Center, part of the Town of Clarence – the next town east of here. Fred, and later Fred and Maggie lived in the coach house out back. The slogan “City Chic, Country Charm” summed it up.

My tenure there didn't last long – several issues had been building, including health and family. I would still pop in for the occasional shift when Fred needed me. At least until it caught fire a few years back, and Fred and Maggie moved back downtown.

Of more import, Fred operates a catering business called “My Personal Chef” and I still work with him there when called. Both the restaurant and the catering business attracted one-timers, but over the years we had the usual assemblage of miscreants and ne'er-do-wells common to the culinary industry. Perhaps not up to Anthony Bourdain standards, but colorful nonetheless.

Throughout most of my time with Fred, the one constant was Elly. The picture doesn't do her justice. She was a little slip of a thing – but very, very cute and totally vivacious (yeah, I am old enough to have been her father, but I am not dead yet!). She had a quick wit and an amazing sense of humor. She was smart, creative, funny and kind. If you pissed her off, she could curse in ways that would make a sailor blush. She could bring order out of chaos. You did not cross her.

In short, she was someone you wanted to be watching your six. She could negotiate between the front of the house and the back; run interference with Fred when he was getting on our nerves; or satisfy a guest in a way that made them think they were right. The best compliment I can pay her is that Elly never stopped until the job was done. That meant that at the end of a long catering gig, Elly and I were often side-by-side, doing dishes and putting stuff away while others were unwinding or seeking pay.

Were we friends? I would say so, and I think she would too. Not BFF's, but friends nonetheless – the kind born in the crucible of the food world. Every time we got together began with a hug and an inquiry about my family (I think she had a special bond with my eldest – also an “Ellie”). There was also always a hug and a peck on the cheek at the end of the evening.

I never had the opportunity, but I am sure I could have trusted her with anything. The conversations we had while doing the dishes tended to have a quite a bit of depth to them. We would speak of life and boyfriends and marriage and kids. We especially spoke of the law. Elly desperately wanted to be a lawyer, and she would have been a good one. I desperately tried to talk her out of it. There aren't many catering crews where the devolution of the practice of law over the past 40 years was a topic of conversation. But, Elly had her mind set on it, and a year and a half ago she started Law School in Jacksonville, FL.

I wish I had been more persuasive.

On Thursday, February 12, 2009, Elly was coming home to visit her siblings, her boyfriend, and to be her 4 year old nephew's Valentine at school. She boarded Continental Flight 3407 from Newark to Buffalo. It probably flew right over our house. At 10:19:34 PM, EST, the plane lost control. 26 seconds later it crashed to the earth, five miles short of the airport. Elly and 49 others lost their lives. Ellyce Marie Kausner was barely 24 years old.

If that weren't bad enough, Elly and the others died a mere ¾ of a mile from Elly's house, and about 200 yards from the building that once housed Fredi. Ironic, isn't it? I am not a big fan of irony.

So, when Fred called Sunday and said that Elly's Dad had asked him to cater her Memorial Service and that he was trying to assemble all of the old crew he could find, I of course said yes. On Monday, I joined Fred and Paulie and Lima and Jen and Lisa and Jeremy - 5 cooks, 1 server and a utility outfielder – to prep food. Some of us hadn't been together in years. It was a bit somber at first, as we concentrated on our tasks, but ultimately Fred started popping Champagne corks, and we started swapping Elly stories. (The hands down winner was Elly and the Scientologists!)

Tuesday morning (sans Paulie) we donned our finest chefwear and assembled again at her Church. This time we weren't going to cater with Elly, but for her. I am pretty sure she'd be happy with the result. It was the least we could do to remember one of our own.

So, if your a prayerful person, remember Elly and the other 49 souls lost last Thursday. If you are more like me, hoist a glass in their memory. Though it may have violated some Church rule, we did so Tuesday. Elly would have joined right in!

Here's looking at you, kid!!!!!

Gong Hei Fat Choi

Making friends with your neighbors is always a good thing, even a fun thing. And when that friendship extends to food, it's even better. Invite me to a weenie roast - great. Call for recipe help - no problem. But, if you invite me to share a piece of your ethnic heritage, you will be my best friend forever. So, when our neighbor Yanhai Du and his wife Jai invited us to celebrate Chinese New Year with them, we jumped at at the chance.

Their son Kevin is in third grade with our Alison, and we see one or the other most days while waiting for the school bus. However, we had never spent time in their company. This evening was delightful, full of fascinating conversation, lots of laughter and really great food!

The menu included: Poached Chicken topped with greens; Stir-fried seafood with baby bok choy; a julienned salad including green papaya; various steamed dumplings; sweet and sour pork; a soup with seaweed and tofu -it was fabulous.

Now we have to return the favor - we are thinking Passover!

Welcome to the year of the Ox!

New Year's With Good Friends - And Good Food

Yes. We spend New Years in Cleveland of late. Every year I hear the refrain: Cleveland - why Cleveland? OK, Cleveland is not what you think. And living in Buffalo, we have an inferiority complex too, even with Cleveland. It's as simple as the fact that they are "The Mistake on the Lake" and we are only "The Mistake on the Lake - North Campus".

First:

Consider -

We have a great Chef named Mike (Andrzejewski) who has cooked at the Beard House, but they have an Iron Chef named Mike (Symon)

We have a great food writer in Andrew Galarneau, but they have the nationally famous food writer Michael Ruhlman.

We have the decaying Broadway Market, which was never what I had hoped for, they have the vibrant West Side Market - the kind I want.

We lost four straight Super Bowls, and they have never lost one. (OK, that's a gag. They have never been in one!)

The bottom line is that just as there is more to Buffalo than its rep, there is more to Cleveland's than its rep. And much to enjoy in both.

Second:

The Third Circle of Hell would be filled with laughter if these friends were with us.

Third:

I don't live in Buffalo (East Amherst) and they live in Hudson, an exurb of both Cleveland and Akron. It has a downtown area filled with restaurants like Vue and Downtown 140, and shops like Heather's Heat.

Now I'd love to show you photos of our first night dinner, Susan's cover of the Petto Di Pollo Alla Domiziano from Stino da Napoli in Rocky River, but I forgot my camera.

Lunch New Year's Day was in Hudson at the Tomato Grill, good food, casual atmsphere, and kid friendly. Absolute proof that you can travel without eating at chains! You can see how much the girls hated it!

I went for the Pizza Margarita.
Brian and Susan went for for The Chicken Saltimbocca, Trish for Chicken D'Agnese. I wish I had a photo of Ellie's Ravioli, but she was done before I could aim the camera.

Even our server got into the food photos. Caption suggestions are welcome!

Along with a variety of sparkling wines, dinner began with some aps including a Galantine like I made last year before Trish got sick (more on that soon!). Dinner was Strip Steaks, Mashers and Salad - and lots of wine!

No better way to launch a New Year!

Birthday Present

One of the fun things that occurred at the Burger Smackdown is that I finally was able to recieve my birthday present from my friends, Fred and Maggie. Aside from being a good friend for a long time, Fred got me into the cooking business. I was his opening Chef at the late, lamented Fredi and I still cater with him.

The gift is very thoughtful - a piston style sausage stuffer - but it will be a bit before I use it. I know this type of stuffer often has leakage around the piston so I want to investigate materials to create a flange for the end.

But it's really cool! Thanx Fred and Maggie.

Be careful what you wish for . . .

You might get it! I have mentioned Andrew Z. Galarneau before, a writer for The Buffalo News often on the subject of food. He did a piece a few weeks ago about the best burger in Western New York. My favorite was number two in his rankings.

But, Andrew is also a blogger. He did a post after his article asking for input. After a mention of Grover's, the number two above, and a "homer" vote for Bill Grey's from my birthplace of Rochester, I suggested that the best burger in Buffalo was to be had off my backyard grill.

This is not self confidence - the worst e-coli bearing hockey pucks are best served off your own backyard grill with an audience of friends. But, what I didn't expect was getting invited to participate in the first annual Burger Smackdown between Andrew, me and Mike Andrzejewski - the best cook in Buffalo.

Now I am going to take them down - big time (no, I am sure I am going to get killed). But, the bottom line is that, wherever we sourced our beef, whatever ingredients we choose, ultimately this will be an event with friends - new and old - hanging out, having our kids running around, talking Bills and Sabres or the BPO.

My God, isn't that what food is supposed to be about?

Oh, Michael and Andrew - you are toast! (No really - I don't have a chance!)

Scotty

Oh S**t!

Anybody in or around the food and restaurant industry knows this stuff happens. A business gets in trouble, purveyors no longer extend terms, money goes out and doesn't come in. You can close your doors and file for Chapter 11 protection, or you can do something really stupid. It's not just anonymous chef/owners - it can be someone famous like David Ruggerio. Or it can be someone like this.

The problem is that Kevin is a friend. I have his home phone number on my refrigerator. I almost went into a restaurant with him in 2001. Heck, he came to my restaurant for his first date with his (now) wife so I would cook that dinner.

He did the right thing in owning up to his acts. My thoughts are with him, his wife and two year old child. He has a good support system here, and I think he'll be OK.

Yeah, both the cook and the lawyer in me can understand how this kind of thing happens. But, how stupid . . . . .

A Cook's Birthday Card

The card from my kid sister Lynda made Trish and me cry, and the one from our friend Reenie in Columbus had us laughing out loud, but the one from our friends Susan and Brian in suburban Cleveland is sheer perfection!