It’s called the Food Network Effect: a culinary movement spawned by a generation of diners weaned on cable TV cooking shows. This new class of foodies yearns for experimental dishes that creatively utilize locally sourced, all-natural ingredients — and it’s a big part of the reason why terms like “farm-to-table” and “gluten-free” have entered the mainstream lexicon over the last decade.
This heightened interest in food is fueled largely by the rise of the celebrity chef. Whether it’s being wowed by an entrée you saw Alton Brown make, intrigued by the story behind a dish Anthony Bourdain sampled in Malaysia, or inspired to seek out the exotic ingredients you saw Giada De Laurentiis use, the effect has made TV the unlikely ally of chefs of the non-celebrity variety as well.
“We’ve certainly seen a lot more people who are educated about food and are curious to learn more,” says Nina Santucci Maiale, who co-owns/operates the Okemos small plates restaurant
Red Haven. “Recently we had two high school girls come in, asking very in-depth questions about things I’ve only recently just tried. It’s great to know this passion for food is out there.”
Red Haven is dedicated to the farm-to-table ethos of cooking. All of the ingredients in their dishes come from within a short drive of Metro Lansing; the farthest (and only non-Michigan) location is an organic vegetable farm in Ontario.
“It makes sense to buy local — it not only reduces your carbon footprint, it just tastes the best,” says Tony Maiale, Nina’s husband and the restaurant’s executive chef. “And I try not to manipulate the food too much to preserve that flavor I like to keep it simple, but interesting.”
Red Haven opened in October 2012. It’s the brick-and-mortar spin-off of the duo’s food truck,
Purple Carrot, which they started the year before. The Maiales had worked in several restaurants along the East Coast and in Texas before striking out on their own in Michigan. And they wasted no time catering their techniques to local palates. For example:
“(The Midwest) is known for stuffed chicken — airline chicken breast with cheese and peppers,” he says. “It’s mundane. I do a version where I make a mousse out of the chicken meat, roll it into a tube in the skin, poach it, cut it, and sear it. People see ‘stuffed chicken’ on our menu and have no idea what to expect. I love to play with textures and flavors. It keeps people guessing.”
As a farm-to-table bistro, the menu changes frequently as different produce items come in or out of season, so there’s really no way to know if a dish you liked on one trip will be available the next. But that’s a problem that chef Isaac Benjamin, owner/operator of
Cuisines by Isaac, doesn’t have to worry about — he doesn’t even work from a menu.
“The best way I know is to prepare a quality meal in a client’s home,” he says. “My philosophy is be true to the food.”
Benjamin launched Cuisines by Isaac in 2007. He had worked in restaurants around the world for over 20 years, but had an epiphany while waiting in line for nearly an hour at a popular restaurant.
“I was there in the lobby and I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if I could get the same quality at home without having to wait,” he says. “From there I realized that this was something that people might really like.”
Benjamin specializes in home-cooked gourmet meals, from one person up to 50-person dinner parties. His father, a lawyer-cum-chef, actually trained under Julia Child, so his customers could get a dish that’s two degrees of separation from America’s first celebrity TV chef.
“A lot of my French dishes are things I picked up from my father, which he learned directly from her,” Benjamin says. “My poached pears are prepared in exactly the same style as she did them.”
But Benjamin thinks the recent popularization of adventurous cuisine thanks to celebrity chefs has had a relatively deleterious effect on diners.
“The Food Network has increased knowledge, but it’s like reading a law book without going to law school,” he says. “It’s just enough information to be dangerous. (Similarly), what you learn in the field is light years from what you learn in school. It’s good that my customers are asking for more sophisticated dishes, but they have to know that some of these ingredients are expensive, and sometimes take some experimentation to get right.”
Experimentation isn’t a luxury common to industrial chefs, but Melissa Martinez, a sous chef at Michigan State University, has found a way to let her creativity flow — and do a little on-the-job educating to boot. She oversees the Gallery, which is the cafeteria at Snyder/Phillips Hall. Her work has less to do with developing individual dishes than keeping up with the ever-evolving tastes and aversions of students who come from everywhere in the world.
“Keeping track of all the allergies and religious dietary restrictions is a huge challenge, but it keeps us always evolving,” Martinez says. “I’ve seen a lot more (of customers) willing to try new things, particularly with international cuisine. As many problems as there are in the world with differences between cultures, food is the one thing that can bring us together.”
Martinez started out in politics, but said that world burned her out pretty quickly. She had always loved working in her aunt’s restaurant (“The kitchen was the only place that felt like home”), so she went back to school to learn to be a chef. She graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in New York, one of the best culinary schools in the country. She initially wanted a career in the restaurant world, but then decided to move home to Michigan so she could be closer to her family.
“When you’re a (commercial) chef, you’re expected to live in that world,” she says. “You won’t see your family, you won’t have strong friendships outside the kitchen. Before I came (to work at) MSU, I didn’t know much about the non-commercial side of the industry. But I don’t think I could ever go back to working in a restaurant now.”
Martinez has flourished in her position. She designed a menu line that resulted in a 30 percent increase in sales, helping to reverse the negative stereotype about cafeteria food — in addition to the students, the Gallery now draws a wide variety of diners from MSU faculty and staff as well as from the community She’s won some cooking competitions, and in January a national food industry website recognized her as a rising star.
“That was a real honor,” she says. “Not too many chefs win that — it’s mostly dietitians and research and development professionals.”
And with the foodie movement being a mostly younger crowd, she’s at the front line of this industry-wide sea change.
“A lot of people are suddenly concerned about (organic) food, which is perfect because the entire field is moving in the direction right now,” Martinez says. “We use MSU beef, but there’s only so much produce we can use from the student organic farm as we can. It’s not at a level yet where it could support even one hall. But these educated diners has forced us to be much more proactive, and that’s a good thing.”
This new wave of popularity for cuisine has inverted the old trope about working in the kitchen as a menial, grunge work. Suddenly it’s hot.
“I’ve got science majors, law students, medical students (working in the kitchen) who have never cooked before, and because there are all these cooking shows out now, they’re much more willing to do it,” Martinez says. “These could be the chefs of tomorrow.”
And who knows — if they’re telegenic, they could just be the celebrity chefs of tomorrow.
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Allan Ross is a frequent contributor to Capital Gains.
Photos ©
Dave Trumpie
Dave Trumpie is the managing photographer for Capital Gains. He is a freelance photographer and owner of
Trumpie Photography.