We're going to City Hall, for a high-profile event. And I gotta look good. I mean, that's what the e-mail said.
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| The fruits of some of my labor: snap pea salad and a milk-braised pulled pork slider with fennel slaw |
I was stuck in a sticky, hot corner of a makeshift kitchen, so did it matter whether I had actually put on eye makeup? Eh, not really.
This event could have gone smoother. And that's putting it diplomatically.
We were hit with some changes in our timeline: passed hors d'oeuvres started 45 minutes before they were supposed to (eeeep!), and the buffet started earlier than scheduled as well. Oh, and guess what? We were serving 200 big eaters -- farmers and gardeners, hello (sweeping generalizations, hello). Yeah, there was nothing left. It's nice that there was so little waste, because catering is prone to it. That notwithstanding, we shouldn't have run out of food the way we did, or been subjected to such mad scrambling.
You'd like to avoid these mishaps, but you can't prevent them entirely. It's difficult to be flexible in catering. In our mini-disaster, staff should have gotten there earlier. But the call times for employees were sent out a week ago; can you manage to get ahold of your employees, only hours before they're supposed to show up? Maybe, most likely not. Did we even know the timeline was going to change -- that guests would, maybe, start showing up earlier than expected, or that there might have been some miscommunication between client and staff? Did we realize one of the cooks wasn't going to show up, for whatever, most likely valid, reason? In these cases, we can't exercise much disaster management once on site. Heavy. Sigh.
However, these messy scenarios also reveal why I find catering so intriguing. The sheer level of planning that goes into a small event is mind-numbing. Get ready for your eyes to glaze over, because I'm about to list some things you'll need to consider when catering an event. Skim it if you're not organized and anal-retentive to the very core:
Your food. What elements need to be prepped ahead of time, what should be prepped ahead of time, and what can or needs to be made on site. What about a detail as delicate as a garnish? How will you store the food with the facilities and equipment you have? Is the food appropriate for the event? Events are often planned six months in advance -- so what produce is going to survive potential drought or crap weather to be good enough to serve once the event comes around? Caterers aren't soothsayers. I get to go to the market with my soon-to-be Chef this week; there, he truly sees what's good, produce at it's peak. In that respect, he has a major advantage over caterers.
Your venue. Is there a kitchen? If there is, what equipment does the kitchen have? Will you need to bring certain equipment? If there isn't a kitchen, how will you set up? Do you need ovens, burners? Does the site have the electrical capacity to handle your equipment? Will you need to set up tents (if you're outdoors, for example)? How many tents? Oh, P.S. Some of those kitchens, and excuse my French because I will use it sparingly on this blog, can be fucking gnarly. I still shudder at the thought of those few. Ew.
Your equipment. For the kitchen to consider: bowls, butane burners, butane, hotel pans, spoons, whisks, lexans, bus tubs, coolers, plastic wrap, aluminum foil, platters, plates, sternos, ovens, tables, risers for the tables, uniforms, knives, cutting boards, towels, gloves, vinegar and water, sanitizer, soap, first aid kits, extension cords, Crescors, freezers, dry ice for the freezer. For the front of house to consider: saucers, flatware, silverware, glasses, coffee cups, trays, folding tray stands, linens, uniforms, tables, chairs, carpets/mats, portable bar(s), liquor, wine and beer (and their permits), coffee, water, cocktail shakers, coasters, bus tubs, dance floor, stage... and the appropriate size, quantity and type of each of these items.
How will these items be transported? How will you pack the truck?
Your staff. How many cooks? How many servers? How many captains on the floor? How long will they work? Will you drive them there, or will they get to the site themselves? And who will do what? Certain employees might be better suited to certain events. There's one guy at my work who's always working the charcuterie action station, because he has the perfect "look" for it. And there is always an A-Team.
Your timeline. When will your staff arrive? How long will setup take? When will cooks begin prep work? When will guests begin arriving? When will most or all of the guests arrive? If there are hors d'oeuvres, when will they be passed and when will they finish passing? When does everything need to be set-up, prepped and served so that you're ready for your guests?
There. You're welcome?
Oh, yeah, and you need to load and unload everything. So keep yourself fit, which I've realized I have to do just to keep injury at bay. Doesn't mean I am fit...crap.
Restaurants require much more planning to get off the ground, no question about that. But they're not subject to this sort of rigidity once they're open for service. At this point, I'm speaking only from limited experience, so I'll get back to you in three months with a more detailed comparison.
Sidebar: I still won't be an expert on the hospitality industry at that point, so don't take my opinion too seriously. Kay? Kay.
What did you do in all of this madness, Ms. Author? See the colorful salad at the top of this entry? I worked on that.
It was presented on buffet tables in tiny, individual, Chinese take-out boxes. Thirty to a platter, six platters made. Tedious, indeed.
Oh, but the components came together so well. Sugar snap peas, radishes, edamame, julienned red peppers, hajiki, scallions and sesame seeds, all tossed in a miso vinaigrette and garnished with micro cilantro. Hajiki? Heh? It's the black stuff in the photo. Similar to seaweed, it grows on rocks along the shorelines of China, Japan and Korea. It added an interesting texture (somewhat tough, very savory) to the slightly mealy edamame, crispy snap peas and radishes. From the point of view of a cook on a learning curve, who was in the weeds, the micro cilantro was a pain. I didn't think it lent a whole lot of dimension to the salad, but it looked slightly prettier with it.
I also learned, from a more experienced cook I was working with, that the scallions are so delicate they might tend to "cook" in the vinaigrette. Taking this into account, because I had to mix two large batches of salad in advance, the scallions weren't so much "tossed" with the salad as they were used as a garnish, sprinkled on top.
The veggies all looked gorgeous in the tiny to-go boxes: the red and white of the radishes contrasting with the bright green of the peas, beans, and scallions, the black hajiki, the dots of golden sesame seeds, all in the whimsy of little to-go boxes, filling up a large, square tray -- muah! I would have taken a picture, but alas. The hungry crowd made the servers nervous, and they were, understandably so, breathing down my neck for platter after platter.
I ran out. What's on the plate was my dinner, the straggling peas and radishes leftover in the Lexan, inadequate for another serving.
The tiny sandwich pictured above is a milk-braised pulled pork slider with fennel slaw on a mini brioche bun. Yum. The lonely sammie was one of about seven that I had for dinner. Talk about not keeping kosher! I assembled a few dozen of these as well. Easy task. They were a huge hit.
I also chopped some chives for a chilled corn soup. Note: need to find a better way to chop chives. Sounds like a useless piece of information, but I'm writing all my thoughts down. Including observations about my inadequate knife skills. So deal with it, meager Internet audience!
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A certain Chef who has a certain TV show about pulling restaurants out of the merde made a snide, backhanded comment in the British version of his show. Upon inspecting a disgusting fridge, he commented that the state of such a kitchen was "an embarrassment to catering, let alone a restaurant."
Echem... what?
I hope that, from what I've detailed in this entry, it's apparent good catering requires a massive amount of organization, planning and skill. No doubt there are bad caterers, just like there are bad restaurateurs, cooks and chefs. But a good caterer is not just ultra-organized, they can also churn out fantastic food (above) that pleases a hungry crowd. So let's give them a little respect.
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