Indirect Heat is Still Pretty Hot

A couple of days after the Manhasset experience, I took the train into Manhattan to an upscale hotel just off of Times Square and met with the Masterchef people. We did an on camera interview for about 45 minutes. What was revelatory to me, was how much I had to talk about, and about how all of it was true. The Masterchef blurb in the email said, "Do you love to cook and want to change your life?" I love to cook and frankly I need to change my life so how could I not respond? It was tempting to let it become a "should have /could have" because the odds of getting in are just crazy. These folks went to every region of the country and met with thousands and thousands of people who felt just as "called" as I did. And yet, sometimes you have to buy the magic beans and play the lottery, especially when it pretty much is your only option.

In the hotel room the camera rolled and the casting producer asked me the basics: "Why do you cook?" She asked about my first experiences with food, what is my signature dish, yada, yada. She asked me about my career, my family. I told her about Paul and my kids. I told her how Capra-esque this whole experience seemed to me with cooking itself acting as some sort of Clarence the angel causing me to view what is most important in my life each and every day just in the act of getting food on the table for my family, all the while the Potters of the world getting closer and closer to the front door.

I felt myself getting passionate.

She asked me what it would be like to win this competition. I scoffed. I said I hadn't allowed myself to think or imagine that far ahead; that the rejection ratio inherent in my business has taught me to kind of "stick and move." Not to try to dwell on the "what ifs" when you're up for a big job, because the repetitive stress of the crashes when the jobs inevitably fall through is too tough on the psyche.

I went on about how it is silly to call this show "Masterchef" anyway. The idea that I could go from amateur to master in five weeks is absurd. More scoffing from me.

She said, "Imagine what it would be like to bring home the cash prize on this show. Imagine that you are telling your wife that you won and are bringing her the money."

She had found the button, and she had pressed it.

I was overcome. I was awash in tears. Just the idea of bringing home a big pot of golden bacon and relieving the stress around here for a while did me quite in. I was embarrassed. I tried to breathe through it and respond to the question. I managed "We've been through a lot, and my wife has been pretty wonderful."

As I emerged from the emotion with some laughter I said, "Is there a cash prize? I really hadn't even thought about it."

"There is a sizable prize."

After the interview, the casting producer pressed her card into my hand and said, "I really want you to do this. I would root for you."

And I felt that thing that I hadn't felt in acting auditions for a very long time. When you feel it it's golden. The feeling of, "Oh, I'm the one they're looking for."

Over that weekend we made the home movie that Masterchef required. We did pizzas from scratch with Duncan assisting, Shaw observing from the bouncy seat and Nicole on camera. In my mind ever preparing for let down, I'm thinking "Even if this doesn't happen we'll have this great home movie."

I sent off the movie, food photos, family photos, show photos with the very personal 27 page background check to the address in Southern California and did my best to forget about it. I wrote about the first experience here in this forum.

I received an email saying that I should not write about my Masterchef experience or tell anyone about it as I am still being considered and talking to the press or blogging could jeopardize my chances.

So, they had read my stuff. I took the entry off and let them know that I had.

Another two weeks go by and I get another email. This one telling me I am still be considered and I need to now make arrangements to have certain dates open for a 4 to 6 hour interview/psych test and be prepared to go to California for as long as 5 weeks. The email tells me they should be able to tell me if I am a finalist on Feb. 15.

In the meantime, I'm going to acting auditions and starting to wonder what would happen if I did get Masterchef. Maybe I would get more of that golden feeling. Then it dawns on me. "The greatest thing that could happen to my acting career would be to get the cooking show." Even if I got knocked off after the first week, it would give me some level of D list celebrity cred that seems to be absolutely required to get a part on Broadway these days. And what if I did win? What if I won? Could I instantly become a Masterchef? Would I travel the world and become a food network celebrity and eat and drink and.....

I started to want it.

I started to think, what if I did become a chef? What if I did leave the acting business behind? What if I did something else? Now, you must understand, I have been focused like a laser on making my living in this business for the last 26 years, and never really have entertained the notion of imagining doing something else, not really, not like this. And frankly the idea of doing something else thrilled me no end. The idea of not dragging myself to auditions for pieces I don't really want to do and trying to squeeze myself into some concept of what it is I think the folks who are casting want, the idea of not having to deal with a 96% rejection rate, the constant failure, to have some say over the outcome of my life, these ideas, the newness of them, the almost naughtiness of them made me quite drunk indeed, and I fear/hope might have changed me forever. Because I tell you, the thing that hurts me lately is I don't enjoy the acting enough. I'm mad at the acting for not staying lucrative and I wonder if I could take that onus off of it, if I could love it again someday... I kind of hope so, because I miss loving it. It is, after all, just an art form. My economic problems are not it's fault.

Masterchef folks were not the only ones who read my last piece here. An old friend from high school read it. Sarah Sandback. She read my stuff on Facebook and liked it. Sarah wrote me to tell me she is starting a publishing company called Kid Zenith and asked I be interested in writing children's literature for them. It was the Masterchef piece that she responded to.

I stood at the grill with the chicken. The charcoal smell reminding me of camping and Michigan like it always does. Smells like Dad-hood. I thought, "My life is changing. Whether or not it happens, the Masterchef thing, packing my stuff in the cooler and driving to Manhasset changed my life."

I wrote Sarah back and said, "Oh yes. Oh yes indeed." I submitted some material, they liked it and asked for more. They sent me stipend checks and contracts. Oh yes. Oh yes indeed.

I was in Michigan on February 15 when the Masterchef folks were supposed to let me know. They didn't call. I got grumpy.

On the 16th around 5:00 as I was making some pasta for the family (broccoli rabe and sausage) my phone vibrated. I saw it was a southern California number. As I finished laying out the sliced Italian sausage in the saute pan I felt the second vibration indicating that there was a voice message.

I stayed in the moment of not knowing. I allowed myself the thought of "Why would they call if it was no?". I thought that if it is no, I'm glad that I was cooking when they called because yes or no, I'm going to keep cooking.

It was no. The casting manager in Southern California told me that casting and the food judges were very impressed with me but I would not be a finalist on Masterchef. They wished me well and said that had my file now and I would be considered for future seasons.

Back in New Jersey, in the house that we are now considering leaving in a very real way. Trying to squeeze the concept into our upright midwestern thoughts that maybe there is no shame in not meeting a mortgage. Trying to wrap our minds around the concept of foreclosure in a real way. Knowing that if writing and cooking are the future, well we could do that anywhere; it doesn't have to be in the most expensive area of real estate in the world. The Kid Zenith stuff is awesome and points to a kind of future, but does not stop the boat from it's immediate sinking. As far as the acting, I keep thinking about that definition of insanity, "Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome."

I'm cooking differently lately. With more precision, with more purpose. Masterchef changed my life.

BARBEQUE CHICKEN WITH DIJON FRIED RICE

MICHAL SYMON'S BBQ SAUCE
(If I don't have time for this, I use Famous Dave's)

1 Tbs. butter
1 c. chopped red onion
2 Tbs. minced garlic
2 Tbs. mince jalepeno
1/2 c. espresso beans, mashed with the flat side of a knife
4 ounces Worcestershire
4 ounces tomato paste
1 ounce apple cider vinegar
1 ounce balsamic vinegar
1/2 c. packed brown sugar
2 ounces apple cider
4 ounces veal stock
1 Tbs. chile powder
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. coriander


Melt butter and sweat onion, garlic and jalepeno. Add the remaining ingredients and cook on very low heat for 1 hour. Strain through a chinois.

BBQ CHICKEN
(I usually use chicken thighs with skin and drum sticks that I buy from Costco)

Put 2 quarts of water in a large non reactive bowl and dissolve 1/2 cup to 3/4 of a cup kosher salt. Put chicken (8 to 10 parts) in the brine and let soak for at least 4 hours.
Remove chicken and pat dry with paper towels.
Place about 30 charcoal briquettes evenly on one side of grill and light.
Take about a 1/2 cup of olive oil and brush on the chicken parts. Grind fresh black pepper over pieces.

Sear chicken in batches over the direct heat side of grill about 2 minutes per side. Should flame a great deal.
When chicken is seared on both sides transfer to the indirect side of grill and brush on BBQ sauce. Cover grill with vents open and cook over indirect heat for twenty minutes. Flip chicken brush on more sauce, cover and grill for 20 minutes more.

Sprinkle with chopped fresh herbs of your choice. (I like chives and basil among others.)

DIJON MUSTARD FRIED RICE

Vegetable oil
1 onion chopped
chopped mixed veggies - ie: broccoli, green peas, carrot, etc.
2 eggs beaten
4 cups cooked sushi rice
2 Tbs. soy sauce
3 Tbs. Dijon Mustard
1/4 cup chopped basil (Thai if you can get it)
1/4 cup chopped scallion
Fresh ground black pepper

Heat oil in a wok over high heat. (1 Tbs. at a time) Saute onion until soft and set aside. Add oil and saute veggies in batches until bright in color and soft and set aside. Add oil and cook eggs until firm remove, dice into 1 inch chunks and set aside. Add oil and heat rice through. Add soy sauce and mustard mix thoroughly. Fold in previously cooked ingredients and basil. Grind pepper over and mix again. Remove to large bowl and top with scallions.

Room Temperature is Relative to the Room

Nicole's Dad died the day after Christmas. I guess I sort of wanted to more artfully work that in, but really what else is there right now? Nicole, Duncan and Shaw stayed another week in Missouri after Carrie's wedding and helped Angela (Nicole's mom) with stuff. I came back to New Jersey so that I could jump back into whatever might come along work wise, and as of January 23rd, I remained poised like Michael Phelps on the block - ready, ready.... and... ready.

During my week alone I dismantled Christmas, deep cleaned the house, slept very little and cooked for one, something I hadn't done in a long time. On Friday on the phone with Nicole, who was returning Monday, she asked me if I had missed the date for the amateur chef reality show entry that Kara had sent me via the emails. I checked and by God it was that Sunday. I downloaded the application, map quested the Manhasset location, and began constructing the dish I would plate for the judges in my head.

To my mind the challenge was to create a dish that would be yummy at room temp or chilled. There would be no heat element provided, you had to wait in line, go in the room and plate your dish.

One of the side effects of eating alone all week was that I was drawn to the wok. In order to keep my middle aged waist line in check I find that I need to eat small meals (Low fat protein, simple carb, veggie) every three hours. This regimen is easiest to maintain when I'm doing a show. I can do all the cooking in the morning and load up small meal sized tupperware in my bag and head to the train. I save money and drop weight. When the family is all home and I'm in between jobs, it's more difficult to perpetuate this regimen because of the high value we place on the dinner ritual. However, during the alone week, I discovered that putting the protein, carb, and veggie together in the wok with some asian seasonings was providing a tasty new angle on the small meal regimen. So, I was in an Asian frame of mind.

So, Asian, room temp and show them chefiness. I had salmon in the freezer. I researched poached salmon and learned the french way. Ah! It started to form.
I would do an East meets West across the plate poached Salmon. On the right side of the plate I would do Satay noodles and continue the Satay sauce on the fish. On the right I would do broccoli rabe with shaved parmesan or pecorino and a green pea/mint sauce that carried over to the fish. Across the bottom of the plate Asian marinated mushrooms. While each sauce would be pure East or West, the sides would have secret elements that would foot them in both East and West cuisines. In other words, the satay noodles would use Italian spaghettini instead of bean thread noodles, and the broccoli rabe would be prepared in the wok using soy, oyster sauce, and toasted sesame. The fact that the salmon was the common ground felt very right due to it's prominence in both cuisine worlds.

I had a plan and I had a whole day to prepare. After a trip to the market, I put on my Iron Chef chef's jacket Nicole bought one Christmas in Brooklyn years ago and spent the day preparing my dish.

One of my last conversations with Paul, he sat at the counter in Marshfield while I made the sweet sausage/cream spaghetti for dinner. I told him that I had made a decision that I would somehow get some formal culinary training this year. I told him what he already knew, that we couldn't survive another year like the one we'd just had unless I had another way to make money. He said he thought it sounded like a good idea. What I loved him for is what he didn't say. He didn't say, "Are you crazy for ever trying to support my daughter and grandchildren by singing and dancing and telling stories? You better get a real job McVety." No, he didn't say that, and I loved him for it. He said the spaghetti looked good and asked me what "caramelized" meant.

I have made such a decision and since I can't afford any training until I get my next lucrative acting job I am sort of Catch 22ing it here. My toes curled over the starting block, head bowed, knees flexed, measured breathing, eyes on the prize, ready... ready...

I spent the day before making the sauces, poaching the Salmon, rehearsed plating the dish and then packed everything in the cooler so that I could plate with ease and rapidity in front of the judges in Manhasset, bringing all necessary tools with me.

I followed the map quest instructions arrived and waited with the other amateurs for three hours in the 22º Long Island air. When my turn came, I plated the dish on a waist high table with eight other amateurs on either side of me. The judges came and I explained my dish. I had gotten as far as "hidden clues in each side element" when one of the two judges, the food judge I guess, asked me if I had had any culinary training. I said "No." She nodded and moved on with out tasting. The other judge, who I guess was the personality judge, asked me what was the most life changing event I had ever experienced. I told him about Paul, and that I now am really responsible for his and my family and I have to find a way to keep feeding them. He pointed me toward the girl in the back.

I cleared my plate and repacked everything. I made my way to the girl in the back who told me that I would be going on to the next round. I was actually giddy like any American Idol contestant going to Hollywood. While I had been waiting in line, I watched the people relate to each other, telling about their dishes, struggling to keep their Lobster Fra Diavalos, their venison stuffed peppers warm. I found I didn't have anything to say to anyone, and I worried about it. I worried that I wouldn't have the reality TV show personality thing kick on when I needed it. But an interesting thing happened. Once I got into the room and plated the food, and saw other people's food all I wanted to do was talk to them about it. "Man, that looks great! Beautiful." Not sure what that's all about except that I'm not very good at small talk.

There will be more Masterchef to come. It's not the same as enrolling at the French Culinary Institute, but it keeps me moving in a certain direction.

SPICY ORANGE SATAY/PEPERONCINO NOODLES

6 tablespoons smooth natural peanut butter,
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
3 tablespoons seasoned rice vinegar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 to 3 teaspoons hot chili paste (Sambal Oelek)
1/4 to 1/2 cup orange juice

1/2 lb. Spaghettini Noodles (I used ones pre-infused with peperoncino. )
Cucumber, peeled and cut into match sticks
Radish cut into match sticks
Chopped scallion green part only.

Whisk sauce ingredients until smooth and season with salt and pepper.
Boil pasta in salted water until al dente. Toss with enough sauce to coat pasta. Refrigerate serve cold garnished with cucumber, radish and scallion.

MARINATED SHITAKE/PORTABELLO/OYSTER MUSHROOMS

1 tsp. sliced garlic
1 Tbs. sliced fresh ginger root
3/4 pounds mixed mushroom caps wiped clean and stems removed.
1 tsp. Sambal Oelek
1/2 cup sesame vinagrette
2 tsp. sesame oil
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup Rice wine vinegar

In heavy saucepan, heat the sesame oil over medium heat. Add the garlic, ginger root, and mushrooms and saute for three minutes. Deglaze pan with vinegar and reduce over medium high heat until almost no liquid remains. Stir in sambal oelek and salt and remove from heat. Add the vinagrette and stir. Cover and refrigerate and allow to marinade for at least six hours.

EAST/WEST BROCCOLI RABE

1 bunch broccoli rabe
2 Tbs. olive oil
2 cloves garlic sliced
2 tsp. toasted sesame seeds
2 Tbs. soy sauce
2 Tbs. Oyster sauce
Shaved Pecorino Romano

Fill stock pot to half with water and bring to boil. Submerge broccoli rabe in boiling water for two to three minutes. Remove from boiling water and submerge in ice water immediately.

Heat olive oil in wok over high heat. Add garlic and saute for 20 to thirty seconds. Add broccoli rabe in batches, do not over crowd. Add soy sauce, oyster sauce, and toasted sesame seeds, salt and pepper and saute in wok until wilted and tender - two to three minutes. Remove from wok and allow to cool. Cover and refrigerate. Garnish with shave Pecorino Romano.

POACHED SALMON

Two Leeks,
2 cups white wine
2 cups water
Bay leaf
3 shallots
2 cloves garlic
salt and pepper
Salmon fillet

In Dutch oven with lid, heat all ingredients until wine and water are boiling. Place salmon skin side down until just submerged. Reduce heat until liquid is just barely bubbling. Cover and poach salmon for 15 minutes. Remove salmon and reserve broth as fish stock. Allow salmon to come to room temperature then cover and refrigerate.

GREEN PEA SAUCE

1 cup frozen or fresh green peas
1/2 stick butter
splash or two of cream
1/2 cup fish/poaching stock
Tbs. fresh chopped mint

In blender combine peas, butter, cream, fish stock. Blend until all elements are incorporated. Add more stock as necessary until desired consistency is reached. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Stir in chopped mint.