My Island Dinner, And Other Ramblings From My Life
I only know this now, but I had such a privileged childhood. I grew up in a family of bons vivants who always encouraged me to develop an appreciation of culture — and food was the medium. Food is what brought our people together. The dinner table fueled not just the body, but conversation, friendship, ideas, debates, every day.
All of my fondest memories are rooted in food and travel.
I remember very vibrantly the smells of the different markets we visited when we spent time in Normandie. How yellow and flavorful their crème frâiche was, how sweet the tiny little live grey shrimp were, the smell of the fresh turbot sizzling in butter.
And from the country home I remember the smell of the forest in the winter, when we would adventure for escargots. It is so different than the summer days, when we would harvest wild blackberries in that same forest. And I remember the house, it smelled like a fireplace and glazed ham at Christmastime, and rolling jam and pastries all summer long.
We took a lot of trips abroad. My favorite was to Cala Ratjada in the Balearic Islands. My sister and I flew in with our mother, and my father arrived sailing, later. The day he was scheduled to anchor, Maman got us all us dolled up. She was glowing. She gave me a little taster of sangria, and we spent the whole evening celebrating his arrival in the harbor, gorging on very simple tapas. I remember the green bell pepper beignet, the grilled octopus. Later on the trip we dove for sea urchins and ate them with scrambled eggs, and a copious amount of spreadable chorizo on crackers.
This is still how I travel. I love discovering the food source of a town, walking around all of the farmers’ markets, soaking in the smells, seeing what is cooked in the streets and what the spice rack is looking like. Or what produce is there, or the quality of the soil, or how water impacts the flavors differently.
Food is everywhere. It is what brings people together.
It’s the center of the home, communing with friends. It’s that indescribable specialness when someone pulls a chair to share their dinner, or the giggling in the kitchen of a family cooking together. Food fuels humanity. To me, that is its power that I admire the most.
In my early days on the Central Coast I found my place under the wing of Pandee Pearson at Windows on the Water, and Megan Loring at The Park, which led me to my first executive position, at Thomas Hill Organics in Paso Robles. I then went to work for Clark Staub at Full of Life, until I was introduced to the opening team of Foremost in SLO.
It was hard. The fine dining bubble had burst, causing unsettled feelings back then. There were painfully obvious financial stresses, which consistently made me question my capacity, but also present was the constant demand to reconceptualize, which made me question my integrity.
I decided to turn to another project. I wanted to learn how to farm, and thought that starting a permaculture garden would be the most efficient way to acquire the skills and the right amount of discomfort to sit with, in order to grow.
I met Jean and Carol Paquet, and after a very old school, gentleman’s deal, I would farm their land. The property lends itself perfectly to my objectives: three banks, drastically different soil composition, and exposure framing a pond with lots of trees and 40 acres above draining down to a little pocket, right near a creek bed.
Such a wild ride …
When I felt limited by knowledge, resources or simply strength, I had to rely on observation, ingenuity and well … gravity. I had to recognize that in every single situation there is an opportunity to learn, or to scream extremely loudly while throwing the subject of frustration in the air!
“How we shape the landscape we inhabit is a reflection of our inner wisdom. Ecology begins within us; it is spiritual.” —La Ferme du Bec Hellouin
When I stopped cooking in restaurants, I switched to a new kind of grind. I only cooked what I wanted to eat or explore, what I wanted to share with my friends or with my guests. Here again, the Paquets became the catalyst for a new era for me, as they offered a stage for me to perform my own act.
Since then I’ve created a “dinner experience” on an island — right in the middle of the pond that I farm on, at the bottom of the Paquets’ property off of Corbett Canyon. I have been holding the event for the last two years, and we are already planning the next. It is a way to gather all of my chef, winemaker, artist and farmer friends on a Saturday night, “a party for us.”
It’s a pro bono evening, no financial agenda, no ticket sales. It’s a lot of borrowing, trading and stealing, to create a new tradition, to cultivate, because it’s great for the soul. Everyone knows to come dressed appropriately — lots of hats, flannel shirts, well-loved boots.
As guests arrive, they are invited to cross the bridge and sit on the island. This year I built the tables with great help, from the fence that used to exist on the property for 13 years. And I literally extended the island a few feet wider to fit a larger crowd. The island dinner is, modestly, a collection of talent, a commemoration of entrepreneurship and a celebration of resources and connections, all flourishing here, in our backyard. Layers upon layers of headliners. I remember it all so vividly.
This year’s lineup included:
Robin Wolf, cocktail tsar of The Hatch crafts a welcome cocktail with Monica and Alex Villicana showcasing their Re:Find botanical gin. Ash Mehta from WineSneak brings a selection of fun wines for apéritifs.
My front of the house fairy Rachel Patterson adds the arrangements of dahlias we harvested the night before.
Chelsea Franchi of Tablas Creek presents its Dianthus and Rosé, and Nathan Stuart, their property’s shepherd, introduces the first course: Tablas Creek lamb tartare of the second biodynamic herd in America. On the table we have a perfectly ripe Ragged Point triple cream cheese from Stepladder Creamery, with roasted plums from the property and honey from Tablas Creek. Clark Staub of Full of Life baked the most beautiful levain loaves laced with braised fennel and wild fennel pollen. There are little cups of Olea Farm olive oil.
See? It’s already a party!
Chef Roxanne Lapuyade is meticulously arranging the Friends of Gold salad, a collection of produce from my farmer friends Johnny Kenny, Rudy Domingo and Loo Loo Farms. Mary Bradley presents her own label, and Cait and Eric Johnson pour the Ann Albert Chardonnay. Russell Kwong of Mee Heng Low Noodle House buzzes around the tables and engineers a dish pit on the fly.
Meanwhile Chef Kyle Rucker is doing what he has always done best for me, having my back, keeping everything balanced and moving. Now it’s time for Mike Ortiz to hit the Plancha with the duck tibs.
We open bottles of Stolo dry Gewürztraminer with Nicole Bertotti, the goddess behind the brand. Coby Parker-Garcia, a true SLO institution, and his wife Katie Noonan offer their El Lugar Spanish Spring Pinot Noir.
We are on the fourth course. We present a succulent Tablas Creek mutton curry served the South African way, napped over ambemohar rice and using all of the condiments to dress the curry — coconut yogurt, mint chutney, fresh banana, lipstick pepper sambal, toasted coconut. For cheers, Maggie Tillman brings out her family’s estate Alta Colina Mourvèdre blend, and Nathan Carlson spoils us with magnums of Center of Effort “Extra Effort” Pinot Noir.
For dessert, my favorite self-taught pastry chef Andrew Bui, also an aspiring food writer and photographer in New York, crafted the most delectable little beignets and fries to order, rolled in a cardamom pistachio sugar.
The essence of the island dinner is to collaborate and democratize epicurean adventures and savoir-vivre. Food brings people together, foods inspires humanity. I want to keep pushing the envelope and sparking more magic.
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October 1, 2019 I’ve taken an amazing job at Presqu’ile Winery. My goal is always to learn, and this has completely outreached my expectations. I’m developing their food program, starting a permaculture garden and thrilled to implement what I’ve learned but also respect their commitment to cultivate terroir, experience, unicity. It truly makes my heart sing
