Nobu Doesn't Work Here

This is the first in a series about some of my experiences as a private chef.  I have signed confidentiality agreements with my clients, therefore no names or specifics shall be mentioned...

Thank goodness for rich people who do not cook. For various reasons- perhaps they don't like to, don't know how to, are too busy or simply do not want to. That is their privilege and for the professional cook an opportunity to make some dough.
First, there is a subculture of the "downstairs" employees. That would consist of chef, nannies, housekeepers, chauffeurs, property managers, laundresses, personal assistants, gardeners and tutors (in one home, only to be referred to as "homework helpers", not exactly sure why).  The chef is in the kitchen and is responsible for that most important currency, food. The chef can charm anyone by giving them a cookie, or some extra chicken salad. I always make friends this way. However, there were times when I also became the priest where they would come to profess their sins or to vent about one another. One household had two nannies, one for the weekend, one for the weekdays. They overlapped on Fridays every week. Somehow it fell on me that I had to hear from each nanny about how the other one was doing everything wrong. Like a good priest, I merely nodded my head, and using as few words as possible tried not to get involved. In that particular household the staff loved to camp out at the island in the kitchen and gab on and on. It did not occur to them that I was actually working and had a deadline. They managed to scramble pretty fast though if the lady of the house came home. First place she headed for was always the kitchen too.
They told me the story about the former household manager/driver who took it upon himself one day while the family was away to invite his mistress over for a little swim au naturale in the pool, followed by doing the nasty in the boss's bed. He was caught because they had left the dirty sheets- yechh.  The current driver apparently was always saying inappropriate things to one of the nannies. Again- I'm just trying to make some tuna fish! Would you please get out of my office?
On a positive note, it's also a bonding experience. One PA ( in domestic employment that means personal assistant) was hilarious in the stories that she'd relate about our boss. Her commentary kept me going, during the week when our boss had no way out having to go on a vacation alone with her husband. With no servants, no kids and private plane, it was inevitable that she was going to have to have sex with him at some point. As the trip got closer and closer, her excuses to get out of it multiplied. But for once, she did not get her way and with a long face and expensive luggage, glumly left on their romantic weekend for two.
This lady of the house was always to be addressed as "Mrs.--". The truly wealthy let you call them by their first names. They don't waste time with faux formality. These days only the nouveau rich think that's what fancy people do. She also had a huge portrait of herself hanging in one of the upstairs landings. It was very traditional, straight on portraiture sitting with her hands clasped in her lap. Something one would expect of the queen of England perhaps. All she was missing was a tiara. On the other hand at one home I worked in, an incredible Manhattan townhouse, hanging in the stairway there was not one, but two portraits of the man of the house, by Chuck Close. The Chuck Close. Now that, is the real money.

About the Chuck Close portrait guy- I only did a tasting for them, I was not hired. A tasting is when a chef comes and cooks for the potential client. The client gets a chance to taste their food, assess their talent, and see how they work. Usually a tasting is paid, but the food is always paid for by the client.
It's a very high pressure situation, especially if it's only one meal. I did one for a family where I actually worked for four days for them. This was paid, and very handsomely so although ultimately I did not get the job, I walked away with two grand in cash. No hard feelings there!
Before a tasting I always try to get a read on the client's likes and dislikes. I ask what their favorite restaurants are, and do they have any chefs who's style they like in particular. Of course I have to ascertain diet restrictions, allergies or foods not allowed by religious beliefs or foods that they just don't like.
I was sent from a family assistant in one case, a three page document on their particular food preferences. First was the wife's, then the husband's, then the kids. Now to make a meal that is acceptable for all of these and not overlap anyone's dislikes was truly challenging to put it mildly.  After serving one dish that overall was liked very much, the Mrs. did feel it necessary to remind me that there were cucumbers in it which she hates. I had forgotten that. On the other hand, would it have been such a big deal to just pick out the one or two cucumber slices? I know that she was just letting me know that I wasn't pulling anything over on her, but really? Besides, what's there not to like about cucumbers? Capers, onions, anything assertive I might understand but the mild and lowly cucumber?
Anyway, the answer to my question about favorite restaurants of the wealthy always is always the same, Nobu and Le Bernadin.
So let's break this down. Nobu, the groundbreaking, at one time the most innovative Japanese restaurant in America (now world-wide) founded by the great chef Nobu Matsuhisa. Gleaming, fresh sushi, jaw-dropping presentation along with jaw-dropping prices.
Le Bernadin, the 4-star legend successfully taken over some years ago by Chef Eric Ripert. One of the greatest experiences in dining from the pristine food, elegant presentation and service that is off the charts. With prices that are off the charts too.
Um, no problem.
Like the man who wants a woman that is a whore in the bedroom and a lady in the boardroom, these people want it all. To work in someone's home where they need the table set, the food served to them, the courses (even on say, a typical weeknight we are talking about appetizer, entree, dessert), diet restrictions taken into consideration, a possibility of a separate kid's meal needed on the fly- oh and can we just make a little pasta for the homework helper too? And by the way, he's a vegan, but don't make him anything fancy. A three course meal also takes a lot of pots, pans and  utensils and if the chef does not have a helper, that's a lot of dishwashing for the Nobu du jour. Part of working in a private home is making sure that the kitchen does not look like a bomb went off in it. At least not the way I work. It means removing trash. One crazy that I worked for got very upset if the trash ever looked full, maybe she owned stock in Hefty because we went through an inordinate amount of bags.
Another extremely important element is shopping. I think shopping is the part of the job that I despise most of all. In restaurants a big truck pulls up and the food comes to you. Or, a lower-level cook can go pick up the order at the farmer's market, etc.  In private chef world it's all on you. I had one client in Connecticut who was very insistent about where I bought everything. Most of the food was from Whole Foods, but the garbage like Gatorade, which had to be the BLUE flavor for one kid and GREEN for another one, could not be purchased there, thus entailing a trip to the grocery. Seafood had to be from the fish market and bagels from a particular bagel store and the muffins (which I could have easily baked and would have been far superior) from another place over the NY state line. Back then at least, I had a car which helped. I was paid for my time and mileage too.
Shopping in New York City is a nightmare without a car if the family does not have a driver who will pick you up. Out of necessity I started taking taxis even if I was only a few blocks away. Not because I was lazy but it was just too much to carry. Hopefully there is a doorman who will whisk the bags away and bring them to the elevator. Depending on the building you may be required to ride in the service elevator. My favorite places though are those swank pads where the elevator simply opens up right into the foyer in the apartment.
The main reason that I hate shopping though is when a store does not have that one little thing that is a must have, thus requiring having to go to yet another place. If I'm in Balducci's with 7 bags of stuff and I have to get almonds with the skin on and no salt which they are out of that day, I now have to go find them elsewhere. Do I schlep the bags? Do I take a cab, bring them up to the apartment, unload- maybe I will get lucky and there will be an agreeable housekeeper who will unload for me, go down the elevator again walk to another store or two to find the nuts and by the way the housekeeper asks me if I can pick her up a pack of Mr.Clean Magic Sponges. Hopefully I will find both in a timely fashion and not have to waste any more time so I can get down to the business of cooking.
I don't think I've seen Eric Ripert chasing down nuts on the Upper East side.

Hopefully you work with a diligent and agreeable housekeeper. This means when you arrive and can finally begin preparing a meal you can start with a blank slate. The sink and dishwashing machine should be empty and clean. Garbage cans also empty with a fresh bag. In other words, ideally there should be nothing that needs cleaning or putting away before you start work. Sometimes this is not the case, again taking up more of your time, when you've got to prepare a meal that must be on the table by 6 o'clock. Nobu can fire someone who does not do their job before you enter the kitchen. I, cannot.
Although the pay can be really, really good, it is a high pressure job.  It is different from the high heat, chaotic life in a restaurant kitchen. Yet sometimes the private chef job is awesome. In the words of Dr. Seuss, "Oh, the places you'll go".  People you meet, the things you can see are amazing. Bottom line though, it's all about personalities. You must mesh with the people you work for. If not, it will never go well.
I will end on this positive note. Over the years I have cultivated one client, that is my plum, my cherry picked favorite. We have a trust and a bond that makes my job easy. It's physically draining, the shopping is a pain in the ass and all that. But the lady of the house will say, "oh, you know what we like", and mean it. They are nice, appreciative and treat me well. When a client believes in you, you can really excel. They've been to the four-star restaurants and enjoy them as much as the next person. But at home, they don't need Eric or Nobu. They want me.