Tin Chefs

In this age of the seven-minute chicken, maybe it shouldn't shock that students are eager to leapfrog into the elite strata of professional chefdom. Yet arriving at that level doesn't necessarily mean an end to the drearier aspects of the job. Brana notes how "there have been many days when a dishwasher doesn't show up, and the recent grads in my kitchen are taken aback to see me and my sous chef in the back washing pots. They are even more surprised when, being the low men on the totem pole, they are asked to peel potatoes or mop floors with the dishwasher at the end of the night."

They'd likely be stunned to witness the trials endured by those toiling in an Old World apprenticeship. Only in recent decades, and most prominently in America, has a culinary diploma been deemed de rigueur. Most who eyed careers in the kitchen trade worked their way into the field via a system of indenture that dates back to medieval times (when, in order to avoid forgeries, apprenticeship certificates were torn in half and the ripped edge of the student's copy then matched with the master's for verification of proper training).

Apprenticeships, still held in wide esteem throughout Europe, are generally understood to be an employment relationship lasting between two to four years in which services are rendered in exchange for instruction and training (and sometimes a small stipend) in the master's discipline. Tim Andriola, chef/co-owner of Timo, isn't sold on the idea. "With school you get knowledge from a number of sources, in all different ways, shapes, and forms. Provided that you work during your schooling, you will walk away with practical knowledge as well. With an apprenticeship you get the view of the chef you are working for, and his opinions only — right or wrong."

In a sense, all would-be chefs start out apprenticing in one manner or another — nowadays it just means working with one or more talented culinary craftsmen either before, during, after, or in lieu of formal training. We spoke with some of this town's top toques — all of whom jumped from the frying pan of culinary schooling into the fire of professional restaurant kitchens — to see how they managed the transition.

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Toque Talk
Allen Susser is the man who put the mango in the Mango Gang. Nationally recognized via his Chef Allen's restaurant, cookbooks, food publications, television appearances, and extensive charity work, he is precisely one of those star chefs whom J&W students aspire to become. Susser began by earning a degree in hospitality management at New York City Tech, followed by a bachelor's in restaurant management from Florida International University.

"That was 30 years ago," Susser recalls, "when there was no glory in cooking. I went to cook because I love to cook. The school prepared me pretty well, not at a high end, but the basics of what was going on in kitchens." Just the same, he attended Le Cordon Bleu in Paris afterward "to find out more about food. Back then, Paris was still the center of the culinary world." His first job was making souffles at Le Cirque in New York City ("I just wanted to be in the best restaurant in town"). He would spend a couple of years honing his craft at that legendary establishment, but would "work ten years before I looked at myself as being a chef." Susser has since been accorded another academic credential: an honorary doctorate in culinary arts from Johnson & Wales.

It wasn't long ago that the busboy swabbing Chef Allen's floors at the end of each evening was a skinny chef-wannabe named Tim Andriola. He was a dishwasher at age fourteen, moving his way to prep, salads, and hot foods at the restaurant while attending high school. His boss suggested he go to culinary school, and he didn't know of anything he liked to do better than cook, so he applied to and ultimately attended the Culinary Institute of America (a.k.a. the CIA). He moved to South Florida shortly after graduating in 1992 and was offered employment by a few of Miami's most notable chefs, but was adamant in his desire to work for Chef Allen.

"Of course he was the one that didn't have a job for me," says Andriola, "so I told him I would do anything — wash dishes, whatever it would take. He told me to talk to the maitre d', who hired me as a busboy. I worked for $4.25 an hour and tips." That was at night, but every morning he would volunteer his time and help the chef de cuisine. "After about two months, I had worked my way into the kitchen, getting paid $9.50."