Next I was on a five hour trans-atlantic flight to Iceland. After recovering from food poisoning courteousy of Logan International airport, I spent a magical 3 days in the capital, Reykjavik and am currently looking for an excuse to go back. Ate one of the better meals of my life at Vox. The restaurant is a follower of the New Nordic Cuisine Manifesto(as written by Rene Redzepi chef at Noma). Really interesting local products, traditional icelandic preparations, modern cooking methods(dusts, edible soil, gelatin pasta etc.) and a dessert that mirrored the local landscape made it a pretty unforgetable dining experience. Other highlights of the bizarre little country was a trip to the Blue Lagoon hot springs, eating weird proteins(puffin, horse etc.) and learning that the majority of the population(only 300 000 live in the whole country) believe in elves, trolls and other supposed mythological creatures.
Reluctantly I left the land of vikings and volcanos to begin my british invasion. It was a quick flight to Heathrow where I was met by an old pal from my hometown(Edmonton, AB). Spent the first few days getting to know the cruel mistress that is London, England. I didnt really know what to expect from the restaurant industry here. I knew where I wanted to stage but thought the prospect of actually finding a job would be pretty grim. I showed up with my knives, whites, a stack of resumes, and enough money saved up to allow me to stage around town for a month, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
After being in town for four days I went to meet my only London contact(I had never met nor spoken to the person in question only been told by my former chef from West to meet his friend(Chef Jeff Galvin) in London at 9:30am on the monday in question). I don't think I have ever been so nervous in my life. Here I was going to meet one of the most accomplished chefs in London, having finished cooking school seven months ago and not really believing I could make it in this town.
I showed up early to La Chapelle for the meeting. The newly opened restaurant is one of the most incredible and grand culinary venues I have ever seen....definitely not alliviating my anxiety. I waited in the lounge for about an hour at which point Chef Jeff came in and apologized for being late(accident on the highway on the way into town). I was expecting a cold reception and to be grilled about my credentials and such. On the contrary the interview was a very friendly affair; he asked me about my experience, why I wanted to cook etc. then told me I had a job at the Bistro also owned by his brother(an equally formidable chef) and him and to go "see if I liked it" on wednesday. I was kind of in shock. We chatted a bit more about restaurants in London and Vancouver and that was it. I spent the rest of that day and the next fretting about my trial day. I went into the bistro at 8am, the kitchen already in full swing. Met the crew(who imediately started taking the piss due to my canadian "accent") spent the day working with the saucier. By 6pm Chef Sian(head chef at the Bistro) asked if I could start the following day and whether I had ever run a sauce section. I said I had been on the garde manger in Canada and that i had only been in London for six days and still didnt have a place to live. To that she replied "Ok well then you start monday and you'll either be on the Sauce or Larder, give a ring if youre still homeless on Sunday and we can get you to start a day or two later".
The race was now on to find a place to live and get settled and oriented in whatever area I edned up living in in the next 5 days before starting as a chef de partie at one of the more acclaimed restuarants in a cit of acclaimed restaurants.
SO to summarize the past month: I found a room to let in a dubious flat in a predominantly muslin neighbourhood in east London. It's like living in a different country.....that isnt England. Its really interesting complete with morning call to prayer a large street market where all the signs are in arabic and burkas galore. Ive never felt so far away from home in all my life, but in the best way possible. My place is right off bricklane being a hub for records, thrift, coffee and curry(the corner stones of society) The fact that St. John Bread & Wine is my neighbourhood eatery doesnt hurt either.
I ended up landing on the sauce section when I showed up for work at 7am my second week in town. It was one of the most nerve wracking weeks I have ever spent in the kitchen. The energetic spanish sous chef gave me a summarized version of cooking meat to a michelin standard and that was that. It has gone suprisingly well(an incident involving the splitting of the foie gras boudin blanc mixture aside). You get 3 double shifts a week(7am-12am) and 2 early/late shifts(usually limited to 12 hours) and actually get two days off in a row! I am over the hump of adjusting to living off of 5 hours sleep during the work week. At first I was kind of in a daze all the time and get nose bleeds for no appearant reason but thats all behind me now. I have never worked in such a busy restaurant, averaging 100 covers in the two hour lunch service and 130+ for dinner service....7 days a week. Im definitely learning new ways of extreme organization and cooking meat is actually really fun.
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