I took a job fresh out of culinary school at a small shop in Dallas called D.H. Oliver Foods. The owner came here from Philadelphia with plans of bringing the big city formula to a small town setting. He was an architect by trade, but a foodie at heart. The shop was way ahead of its time in our area. One of a kind in the mid 90s. He focused on prepared foods displayed beautifully in a cold case. Platters of balsamic glazed chicken breasts, hassleback potatoes, quiche Lorraine, and stuffed grape leaves to name a few. He offered dishes made from the finest ingredients, by a chef, that were convenient and flavorful. He had a separate 15 foot case full of homemade desserts including cakes, torts, pies, muffins and more. Everything made from scratch.
I walked into the shop wearing my white chefs coat, my hounds tooth pants and a big smile. My knives, fully sharpened and ready to go. We worked hard, long days. We catered parties for affluent people. We made bite-size treats for gallery openings. We made wedding cakes...I had to quickly teach myself the art of cake decorating.
Our daily lunch crowd consisted of professionals and ladies who lunched...sometimes for hours. The owner had impeccable taste, a flair for decorating and a reputation for cutting edge cuisine. I was 25 years old, I knew very little. I had to learn multitasking quickly. Think making sandwiches to order, while baking a cake, while assembling a pot of homemade soup, while prepping a catering order being delivered later that day. It was all a part of the day to day, constant motion. To be honest, most of the time I had no idea which end was up. I was learning as I went.
Most people, when they leave culinary school, go and work for a chef who becomes their mentor. They look for a job to learn technique and to build a resume. You basically have to start from the ground up. I had plans to work the job for a while, gain experience and then move to Philadelphia to bigger, better restaurants. I never moved. But I had gained very much experience and a love of the business. It’s not for everybody. My heart was in it. I’m happy to say it still is.
I walked into the shop wearing my white chefs coat, my hounds tooth pants and a big smile. My knives, fully sharpened and ready to go. We worked hard, long days. We catered parties for affluent people. We made bite-size treats for gallery openings. We made wedding cakes...I had to quickly teach myself the art of cake decorating.
Our daily lunch crowd consisted of professionals and ladies who lunched...sometimes for hours. The owner had impeccable taste, a flair for decorating and a reputation for cutting edge cuisine. I was 25 years old, I knew very little. I had to learn multitasking quickly. Think making sandwiches to order, while baking a cake, while assembling a pot of homemade soup, while prepping a catering order being delivered later that day. It was all a part of the day to day, constant motion. To be honest, most of the time I had no idea which end was up. I was learning as I went.
Most people, when they leave culinary school, go and work for a chef who becomes their mentor. They look for a job to learn technique and to build a resume. You basically have to start from the ground up. I had plans to work the job for a while, gain experience and then move to Philadelphia to bigger, better restaurants. I never moved. But I had gained very much experience and a love of the business. It’s not for everybody. My heart was in it. I’m happy to say it still is.
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