Rain and Sun

Today, I had intended to share with you the enchanting dinner I enjoyed at Local 127 last Sunday. But when I started uploading and editing the photographs, I discovered some forgotten photos of a rain-soaked, perfect evening with my friend Kelly at St. Mary’s summer festival, and the plan changed.

When I landed my new job, all of my previous notions about living a “balanced” life—whatever that is—went out the window. By whatever kismet or divine joke or twist of fate, I’m the closest I’ve ever been to having my dream job. I love what I do and I work hard at it, and that feels amazing.

But opening week and the weeks that followed were difficult for all of us. A couple of things happened that really shook my confidence. I never expected this to be easy, but two weeks ago, for the first time since June, I came home thinking, I really don’t know if I can do this.

Lest you begin to wonder too, I still think I can.

I think what really happened was that mind, body, and soul were just begging for a break. Kelly came through with the festival invite at the perfect time, as it was just the catalyst I needed—a chance to take a step back, connect with a friend, and just enjoy humanity and nature and all of the things that ground and inspire me.

I think that’s the new plan. Not a balance so much as a stretch—heels on ground, head in clouds.

And so, I’m sorry, my friends, but dinner will have to wait for a few days.

I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.

The bet.

Thwarted.

Rain!

Dance.

Sunlight.

 

Work and Play

It’s official…on Monday, August 8, Local 127 opened in our new location at 413 Vine Street downtown! We are now open for dinner seven days a week and lunch Monday through Saturday.

I meant to snap a few photos during opening week, but somewhere between developing and testing new recipes, learning to work with a new team in a new space on new equipment, saying farewell and best wishes to Sous Chef George—who has been a mentor and brother to me—and the Restaurant Week business boom, my good intentions were lost and my camera lay forgotten in my knife kit, save for a few quiet moments in the empty dining room at the end of Opening Night.

If you came out to support us during Opening Week, from the bottom of our collective heart, we thank you.

But we’ve all been working our tails off, so let’s not talk about work anymore, shall we?

Last night, the Chefs were kind enough to give me the evening off so I could celebrate the end of Downtown Cincinnati Restaurant Week not by cooking, but by dining!

And dine I did.

My coworker Stephanie—also a major food person—and I made reservations at Orchids at Palm Court, consistently ranked as the number one restaurant in Cincinnati, pretty much the second they announced their participation in Downtown Cincinnati Restaurant Week. During Restaurant Week, participating restaurants offer a three-course menu for a fixed price of $35, giving diners the opportunity to sample some of the city’s finest fare on a budget.

That’s if you have enough self-control to stick to the Restaurant Week menu.

Cough, cough.

We started with a round of cocktails. Stephanie had a lychee martini (sorry, no photo). I can’t remember the name of my drink, but it was a masterful blend of jalapeno-infused tequila, hibiscus simple syrup, and fresh lime juice.

At the risk of overusing the word delicious, which I’m sure I will do long before the end of this post, it was, well…delicious.

May as well start early, right?

Whilst perusing the menu we were delivered an assortment of fresh breads—a sesame roll, a rosemary whole wheat roll with a Bourbon salted crust, and a classic Italian grissini (a thin, crispy breadstick).

Portions were perfectly tiny, so that I could taste all three and still have room for the many courses that followed. Though I will assure you that even if I hadn’t had room I would have found it—the Chef’s mindfulness of portion sizes was just an added bonus!

Accompanying the bread was an assortment of three spreads. In front, a red pepper pesto; at center, an herb-infused olive oil; and hiding behind the red dish, the most rich and savory truffle-salted butter I’ve ever tasted.

The whole wheat roll was perfection, but the sesame was no rival for Local’s Parker House.

Not that I’m biased, or anything.

Next up, we were served an amuse bouche of truffled custard—in an eggshell!—finished with crème fraiche, freeze-dried sweet corn, and chives. The corn was intensely flavorful and just a little bit chewy, almost as if it had been candied—a perfect textural contrast to the smooth custard.

My first course, from the Restaurant Week menu, was an heirloom tomato salad with house-made mozzarella and basil gelee. I was surprised that when I cut into what looks like a huge piece of mozzarella, it deflated into a perfect little medallion.

The effect was somewhere between the mystique of a magic trick and popping the coolest piece of bubble wrap, ever.

I’d love to know how they did it!

Stephanie’s first course was a slow-cooked tuna tonnato, which she assures you was delectable.

We requested wine pairings for each course, all of which were selected by Sommelier Charles Redmond, and were spot on! The white wine that I was served with my first course was one of the best I’ve ever had. I wish I could recall what it was—will have to ask!

After our first course, several surprise gifts from the kitchen arrived in quick succession.

First, a duo of organ meat!

Veal sweetbreads (read: the thymus gland of a sheep) with haricots vert…

And foie gras with rhubarb!

As I had never tried either sweetbreads or foie gras, it was a rather huge and exciting moment, and was—you guessed it—delicious. In particular, the richness of the foie gras was beautifully foiled by the sweet-tart rhubarb. The wine pairing was a Sauternes.

Next up, another gift from the kitchen—herb gnocchi with leek fondue, English peas, chanterelle mushroom, tomato, and Pecorino Romano.

Very good, but we all agreed that Local 127 would win in a gnocchi throwdown. Craig’s pillows of potato pasta are perfection.

Just when we thought we had reached the apex of all food climaxes with the foie gras, and that the rest of our lives would be a downhill slide—we were presented with my favorite dish of the evening. Tempura-battered pork belly, corn cake, goat cheese, and red cabbage. Glazed with honey and finished with fresh bee pollen from—

Are you even ready for this? Trust me, you’re not.

—the beehives on the fifth floor!

Which are, of course, tended by Executive Chef Todd Kelly and Pastry Chef Megan Ketover—I couldn’t resist asking!

At last, it was time for our main course. I had the red snapper en papillote, which was served over a madras curry vinaigrette with green apple tzatziki.

Stephanie had braised pork cheeks with ricotta gnudi.

For dessert, we declined the Restaurant Week menu and request a dessert tasting.

We were treated to a duo of desserts. First, a frozen souffle with lavender sorbet and a crispy pistachio tuile.

And finally, a chocolate bavarian with Bourbon barrel cherries and a chocolate tuile.

The wine pairing was a Moscato.

To end the evening, we were presented with a tray of complimentary sweets, including the most airychewymelty macarons I’ve ever tasted.

It was truly a dining experience unlike any other I have ever had. I’m stuffed, awed, humbled, and inspired. This pastry (not a) chef—that would be me—has a lot more to experience, to enjoy, and to learn!

 

Out With The Old, In With The New

After Monday’s big announcement at work, I spent a night fretting and a day bumming around. And then I realized that I’m helping reopen a restaurant only six weeks into my new career, and that it pretty much freaking rocks.

Especially with this crew.

We painted the kitchen black.

Sexytough.

Organized and reorganized.

The dining room is starting to come together. So exciting!

The new space is so warm and welcoming, with so much character!

Love the Dr. Seuss artwork. I’m a big fan!

We’ve been taking a lunch break each day and I’ve seized the opportunity to try as many new (to me) downtown eateries as I can.

Bi bim bap from Sunny Deli.

Addicting Vegetarian Platter from Al-Amir (falafel, hummus, salad, and dolmas).

Why, why, why does Tazza Mia’s coffee have to be so freaking delicious? Why do they have to be right next door to the new Local 127? This is going to be trouble.

Can you see my beautiful new ovens in the background?

Helloooo, my lovelies.

Nearly everything is in its place…today, it’s finally time to cook!

 

Change and Growth

Saturday night at the restaurant, the atmosphere in the kitchen was electric with festivity.

It was our last night of service before a scheduled week-long closure, during which we’d detail-clean the kitchen, complete trainings, and test new recipes. We were slated to reopen the week of August 8, with a completely revamped menu, just in time for Downtown Cincinnati Restaurant Week.

At the end of the evening, we put up a big meal and gathered together around a long table in the main dining room. Chef Steven Geddes spoke to us as a family, heralding our spirit and our greatness as a team, and thanking us for our service.

We toasted with the open bottles of wine left over from the evening’s dinner service.

This morning, we stood together again as a family, along with the crew from The Bistro, another Relish Group-owned restaurant, while Martin Wade, owner of the Relish Group, regretfully informed us of his decision to close both Local 127 and The Bistro.

In the split seconds that followed, as my heart hammered in my ears and the thousand times I’ve wondered if this is all just a dream clouded my vision and forced everything from my mind besides the completely foolish and illogical mantra, “Do not cry, do not move, and if everyone in this place turns tail and runs for the door and the ceiling crashes down, you will be the last one standing here.” I could feel nothing more than that, and only hoped that my chin was still held high, my shoulders square.

In the moments that followed, as Chef Steve spoke to us, we learned that next Monday, Local 127 will reopen at 413 Vine Street, in the space that was The Bistro, while the building at 127 West Fourth Street will be used for events such as wedding receptions. Our two crews—Local 127 and The Bistro—would join together as one family. Those who wanted jobs would have them.

In the hours that followed, I learned that I would still have my job. That I would still be a baker. That the little loft in The Bistro’s kitchen would be converted into Local 127’s new pastry kitchen.

That I would have two entire ovens that work…that I won’t have to twiddle and cajole or kick and curse.

I spent the remainder of the the afternoon with the crew of guys who have become my adopted brothers, packing up the old space and cleaning the new.

Leaving the old space is bittersweet.

After all, the kitchen at 127 West Fourth is the first professional kitchen I ever set foot in.

It’s the place where my dream of becoming a cook—and someday, a chef—began to take shape.

It’s the place where, one Friday night at the end of April, Chef Kyle Johnson agreed to give me—a nobody with no training and no experience and big dreams—a chance.

Where I learned just how lucky and blessed I am to have not only my new family at the restaurant, but my amazing family from my former life as a school psychologist.

It is a place where my life has changed.

But it’s not the place that has changed my life, it is the people and the experiences that we have shared.

And so even though the change is bittersweet, it is also exciting.

This week, we’ll work together to deep-clean and redesign the space that was The Bistro. Chefs, cooks, dishwashers. Front-of-house and back-of-house staff. Side by side, in plastic aprons, on our hands and knees with rags and sponges. We’ll turn the place around, gut it and redesign it to our exact specifications.

It’s the best way, really—at least for me. I need to be with these people who have become my family. I need to work, to do something constructive so as not to give in to the destruction of fear and worry about all of the things that could happen.

Next week, Local 127 will reopen in our beautiful new space. It’s welcoming, comforting, and casual, and much more in keeping with Local 127’s farm-to-table concept than the old space was. The location is spectacular, just steps from Fountain Square.

We’ll be able to do more than we did before, too. In addition to dinner, we’ll do lunch and maybe eventually a Sunday brunch.

It’s like Local 127 has been trying to cram itself into a mold that just didn’t fit.

Sort of like me, before I quit my day job to become a baker.

Finally, we can just be who we are.

Read more about the move on Campbell’s Scoop.

 

How Cati Got Her Groove Back

I’ve had a case of writers’ block lately.

Should the whole truth be told, I’ve been feeling in a bit of a tailspin.

I went for a beautiful, sunny walk yesterday afternoon, and I was struck by the thought that for years, my life has been a search, and now it is a found.

Finally, my life and I feel full and round, like a snow globe, only one that’s been turned upside down.

Slowly, I am growing and stretching to fit my new job. I never expected it to be easy, but it’s harder than I ever imagined it would be.

I work long hours. Sometimes when I come home at night, my body hurts. My hands hurt from kneading dough and shaping rolls and scooping cookie dough. My arms and shoulders ache from hefting the heavy mixer bowl. My legs are stiff from running up and down the stairs. I have burned myself more times than I can count.

Seven years ago, I was a bona fide couch tater. In May, I ran my second half marathon. But this? This is a whole new kind of training. After six weeks in the bake shop, I feel stronger than I have ever felt in my life.

The physical demands are great, but the emotional ones are even greater.

I’m learning to be fast and efficient, to evaluate the quality of my food, to make good professional judgments. Yet my bread is rarely as soft and flavorful, my caramel as dark, my timing as precise, or my plating as beautiful, as I would like.

Taking criticism when I’m pushing myself to the limit and not meeting my own expectations has always been my biggest challenge. Adapting to unanticipated changes, my second. And every day, I have to face those challenges head-on.

There have been more good days on my new job than bad ones, and they have been wonderful. The bad days? They turn me inside out. I have cried. I have cursed. I have thrown dough at the wall. A couple of times, I’ve gone home shortsightedly wondering what the hell I’ve done with my life.

But please don’t read me wrong. That’s not a complaint, and it’s not regret. It’s passion. And the ability to feel passion in what I do every day, whether it’s a good day or a bad day—it revives me.

This job is going to teach me what I’m made of. It’s going to make me a better person.

So, please, keep shaking this snow globe. I may think that all I want is for the flurries to settle and fall into place, but deep down, I know I’m only kidding myself.

 

Moving Week

Sweeeeet. I found my computer!

Finally, I can blog again!

Okay, I made that up. But it sounded good, didn’t it?

So, here’s what I’ve been up to while I’ve been away from Crave and Create:

On Monday, I said my final goodbye to the old place.

And hello to the new.

I can’t believe the boxes all fit inside!

After four trips with the moving truck, I treated my helpers to pizza at Dewey’s and ice cream at Graeter’s ice cream. Thanks Mom, Dad, and Kit!

Settling into this little apartment has been sort of like solving a Rubik’s cube, which I’ve never actually tried to do, probably because I’m afraid of what it might say about me if I couldn’t actually solve the Rubik’s cube.

But that’s another story. 

On Tuesday, I came home after work, ate some leftover pizza, and face-planted into my naked mattress and plastic-covered pillows. Four hours later, I woke up and killed an entire bottle of Lysol Mold & Mildew, three-quarters of a bottle of Soft Scrub, and three hours scrubbing every surface in my bathroom.

Then, I took a shower.

Priorities, people.

On Wednesday, I overslept.

On Thursday, I unpacked my cookbooks.

On Friday, I organized my kitchen.

Given my recent career change, I felt that two entire shelves in my pantry should be dedicated solely to baking ingredients.

Since my pantry and cupboard space is so limited, I artfully arranged all of my pots and pans and bakeware onto two chrome shelves that I tried to sell on Craigslist before I moved, but couldn’t. Doing this made me so happy that afterward, I just sat and stared at it for awhile.

I also couldn’t help giggling about how dinky and doll-like my Kitchen Aid mixer seems compared to the huge Hobart at work.

Speaking of work, on Saturday I baked off twelve cheesecakes, made batter and baked off 96 cornbread muffins, made a test batch of panna cotta that turned out beautifully, baked off 108 cookies, beautifully caramelized five apples, and made dough, rolled, and baked off 105 Parker House rolls and nine burger buns,

And a partridge in a pear tree.

By Sunday, all of the moving boxes, save one, were gone. To celebrate this grand feat, I bought a candy thermometer for my next big cooking experiment.

By Monday, I collected Max from the kittycat spa and brought her home. She was trying to jump out of the window within minutes.

Speaking of Max, I’m currently debating whether or not putting the hand vac next to the litter box is a really genius idea, or if it will just make Max afraid of the litter box.

Anyway, on Monday afternoon, someone emailed me about buying my shelves, and within an hour, my kitchen was all over the floor again.

Actual conversation between me and the guy who bought my shelves:

Him: “Ooooh, were you a baker before you moved here?”

Me: “Nope, I moved here because I’m a baker!”

Him: “Oh.” (Puzzled expression.)

Me: “So, what do you do?”

Him: “I make generic pharmaceuticals.”

Me: “Oh.” (Awkward silence, during which I ponder bottles and jars of unidentifiable and possibly illicit pills and powders lined up on my shelves.)

Him: “My wife said I have too much stuff at home and that I have to buy shelves to organize it all.”

Me: “Oh.” (Relieved.) “Well, you should take this shoe rack, too!”

Him: “Well, I don’t have any more money with me.”

Me: “Oh, no, I’ll throw it in for free. Please, just take it!”

Him: “Um…well, okay.”

Looks like that cooking experiment may have to wait until I can make a trip to IKEA.

By the way, does anyone need a twelve-cup Krups coffee maker?

It’s sexy, it’s clean, and it works like a charm.

It’s also roughly one-quarter of the size of my kitchen countertop.

Therefore, it must go.

Anyone?

Anyone?

Tonight, a group of my former coworkers are coming in to Local 127 for dinner. I can’t wait to see them! I hope Chef will let me run some food out to them and say hi!

 

The Food Memory Project

Good morning!

Today begins the process of cramming my life into about three hundred and fifty square feet, which, according to IKEA’s standard’s, is still fairly sizeable, and completely doable.

Game on.

While I’m running around like a crazy person this weekend, please feast your eyes upon the enchanting brunch that my good friend and I enjoyed at The BonBonerie last week.

Enjoy!