Author Archives: vagabondallen

Sage Advice

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I’m considering a new series of posts, but I can’t decide how to classify them.

A little background. As of this writing, I’m 43 years old. Like many of my peers, I sit snugly between the old and the new. I’m old enough to remember all things analog, but young enough to embrace all things digital. My parents were old fashioned by their generation’s standards. While most teens were idolizing Tom Cruise and John Hughes films, I was admiring the works of Danny Kaye and Cary Grant. I spent a good portion of the 90’s catching up on the 80’s. I’ve worked more jobs than I can count, in multiple career fields, such as service, retail, restaurant, design and marketing, etc.  My parents taught me values that have carried me through my toughest times. As a late bloomer, I’m now raising my first child, a precocious 10 month old who’s exploring his newfound ability to stand up in the crib behind me as I type.

Because of him, I think a lot now about the legacy I can leave behind. I also think a lot about how I’m wired, mentally, relative to my peers. Much of my character, and moral/ethical compass point me to higher notions of nobility, honor, and a strong work ethic. I’ve also learned to apply intelligence and logic to perform most tasks more efficiently.

Here’s my dilemma. I can’t decide if I should just focus on advice for a stronger work ethic and better job performance, or if I should think in broader terms and record my advice on all things in life. One motivation is to address the need to teach others better thinking in the workplace. I experience daily reminders that many go through their day to day oblivious to how much better it would be if they elevated their approach. However, I’m also motivated to record my thoughts for my son, should something happen to me and I not be there to speak him in person.

As I write this, an idea begins to take form. Perhaps the simplest solution would be to write bits of job advice and then correlate them to a broader life application. Perhaps I’ll write one and see what people think. In the meantime, be well, and as always, enjoy!

My 16 Truths: Expanded – No. 8 through 16

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I left this series of expanded posts about half done back in June. It was around the time my wife went back to work after the birth of our first child (who is currently begging for attention in the background behind me as I try to write this.) A lot has happened in the last eight months, and I have decided I would rather focus on other things. So here is a summarized expansion for any remaining points I still feel like expanding.

8. I am your server. I feel I covered this one pretty well. Gratuity is for what i do and how I do it. The check is for everything else. Please don’t let what happens with one impact the other. Just as I would hope to get a good tip for great service even if the meal was bad, I’d expect a bad tip for bad service no matter how good the food was.

9. If you ever visit an establishment where servers rely on gratuity, and you knowingly don’t intend to tip for any reason, you are a thief. I recently learned a little bit about the history of tipping. It became popular in the U.S. during Prohibition, when restaurants took a major hit on profits from the loss of sales of alcohol and decided to make their servers look for income elsewhere because they could no longer afford to pay them. The system is outdated and I’m in full support of it going away. Until it does, there is an unwritten social agreement between establishments who rely on this system to pay their waitstaff and patrons who make use of these businesses. Breaking the agreement is theft. Failing to clarify if the agreement applies is cowardice. Neither is punishable by law, but those with a conscience should keep this in mind. Those without, well, everyone’s gotta eat.

10. I love food. I don’t love all food. People continue to appreciate my candor about food. At the place I work now, we have a dish that I find to be a poorer example of what the kitchen can offer. I always describe it as hit or miss. One recent guest called it fabulous. I explained this to the next guest while giving my usual warning. I came back and she said it was just okay, but that I did warn her. She tipped me just fine, in spite of her disappointment. The point is, tastes are so subjective, but dishonest descriptions would impact my income over the long haul, so I avoid them.

11. Every day I work is a “quality versus quantity” contest. The best example of this is people who don’t crack open the menu for their first 20 minutes at the table, or more. I want to say, “If all you wanted to do was talk, you could have stayed home. You came here to talk with your mouth full. Get to it, already.” I don’t say that. You’re welcome.

12. A great guest experience is extremely important to me. I was raised of a nobler ilk than some. I’m wired to care about others to the point of guilt. I genuinely want others to be happy, because that genuinely makes me happy. I’m reminded of an episode of Friends where Joey challenged Phoebe’s notion that there was ever such a thing as a truly selfless act. In the end, while your joy is great thanks, it is not ALL the thanks I need.

13. Poor tipping or non tipping will have zero impact on improving your experience. I work really hard at giving good service. So when I screw up, I know it I promise it’s not intentional. Yet if all you do is leave a bad tip, you accomplish nothing. No matter what you hoped to communicate with a bad tip, a bad tip does not speak.

14. I have no problem splitting the check for my guests. Splitting checks is a much easier task with the modern computer systems employed by most restaurants. So don’t be afraid to ask them to split it by seat or group of seats or evenly among specific payers.Allow more time for these multiple checks to be processed and don’t try to get too carried away. “Can you split the bottle of wine with her, but I’m paying for part of his appetizer over there.” So annoying. Also, if you’re paying part with cash and part with card, hang on to the cash, have the card(s) run, and then put the cash in the final. It will take away some of the fear that someone is going to forget how much the whole bill is.

15. Bad tipping won’t ruin my day, because I don’t have bad days. The one nice thing about being a good server is that I can usually attribute a bad week to things like the weather or sporting events like the Super Bowl (which is very much not a busy day for my employer.) However, according to a Stanford University study, when factoring what part service plays in the average tip, the difference between good and bad service is only 1%. It doesn’t mean I’ll give worse service, but it does mean I’m less prone to think my service had anything to do with how much I got paid.

16. In the end, my little monologue (unless it goes viral) will have little impact on the world around me. So far, it hasn’t gone viral, as far as I know. So I’m letting go and moving on. Enjoy!

Nutty

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I have a thing for peanut butter. I love the stuff. Crunchy or creamy is fine by me. It’s been one of my go-to quick fix meals for years, the classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Occasionally, it’s been banana, or honey, or marshmallow fluff. About the only jelly, jam, or preserve I’m not too fond of is orange marmalade. I generally prefer my bread toasted, so the peanut butter gets a little melty and gooey.

In the last few years, I’ve become more educated on ways to use peanut butter in a non-traditional manner, at least non-traditional for me. I already knew peanut butter is used in some asian dishes, but the first dish to really wow me was an african dish called Muamba. Now, a good friend of mine, Lynne, makes a killer version that utilizes a crockpot, and it’s always amazing! I’ve yet to attempt it, but I have the recipe saved on Food.com for future use. Soon, my precious, soon… More recently, I saved a go-to recipe for stir fry with a thai feel that uses peanut butter from Allrecipes.com. I change out the main ingredients, but the sauce always delivers each time I use it.

However, my two newest obsessions involve PB&J for breakfast, and peanut butter with something entirely unexpected for lunch. First, I had the brilliant idea to cook plain oatmeal, then toss in a spoonful of peanut butter and a spoonful of jelly to flavor it. Delicious! I’ve since done just peanut butter in an apple-cinnamon oatmeal and that’s outstanding as well. Plus the protein source adds additional health benefits to give me a great start to my day. Then, just a week or so ago, someone posted on FB an infographic of 15 different alternative toppings for a sandwich. So, on an adventurous whim, I tried topping my PB with a fried egg. I’ve done it twice since then; it’s that good. The salty peanut butter blends delightfully with the rich flavor of the egg. This one is definitely an “on-toast” prerequisite.. I’m sure I’ll do it again before the week is done.

As I expand my knowledge and palette, I’m learning more and more not to shoehorn ingredients into narrow categories, but to let myself experience some crazy combinations that I’d never had before. They don’t always work out, like the time I tried to wing it with a “mexican” spaghetti, but I’ll keep at it, and savor my successes. A few are bound to even end up here as original recipes from yours truly. Enjoy!

Not Chicken Anymore II: The Final Bow

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Recently, I tackled my first whole chicken as described in this post. It was a smashing success, but a few days later, all that was left was the wings and a carcass. Cathy suggested I make stock from it. I’d never made stock before, but I figured all I needed was guidance from a recipe to get the job done.

Four hours later, I had a nice stock going. However, I still had to make dinner and I’d defrosted a chicken breast, so I got the idea to make a chicken noodle soup. Another recipe served me as a guide for cooking times and I went to work. I roasted some onions with the chicken breast until the chicken was pull-apart tender. I used the left over lemon and olive oil drippings from when I’d roasted the whole chicken for the roasting oil. I carefully pulled out as much edible meat form the remains of straining the stock and tossed that in. I didn’t have carrots or celery, but I did have some frozen pureed carrots we had been feeding the boy. A few tablespoons of that went in for flavor and nutrition. I used gluten free fusilli for the pasta.

Cathy and I downed two bowls each without blinking. I dished up four more helpings into storage containers for lunches this week. Another successful night in the kitchen, but so much of the process was unmeasured that I’ll never be able to truly repeat this again. To get the broth just right, I did something I hadn’t really done much in the past. I tasted as I went. That led me to toss in a little citron salt flakes we had on hand and a couple bouillon cubes to balance the broth. Tasting is an important part of the process that I need to trust more in the future. Like a great many other aspects of my growing kitchen skills, it’s the thing that will build my confidence and lead to future successes. Which I’m sure I’ll report on as soon as they happen. Enjoy!

Not Chicken Anymore

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As I continue to try new things in the kitchen, I find myself facing many new firsts. There are still a great many things I’ve never tried before, such as making a soufflé, poaching eggs, or gutting a fish. (The first two will probably come up soon, but I’m in no hurry to try the third.) So I still have a lot of exploring to do.

One thing I hadn’t tried yet was cooking a whole chicken. I had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know if I’d have to scoop out giblets by hand, or if I would over or under cook it. So I waited till Cathy was available for questions, since I had seen her cook a whole turkey before, inside a brown paper bag no less. I figured she had to know what she was doing. I also found several promising recipes to pick from and reviewed those with her as well. As it would turn out, we had one of what I would call beginner chickens. The giblets were neatly tucked into a wax paper bag and the chicken included a… I don’t know the technical term so I’ll call it a popper. You know, those pre-inserted thermometers that pop when the bird is done. Very handy, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

After emptying the bird and rinsing it out, I left it to dry in the fridge, propped up on it’s tail for a few hours. I chose a lemon and herb roast recipe, because I have had pretty consistent success with roasting in the past, and the recipe’s seasoning mix included mustard powder, which I happened to have on hand. The mixture was sprinkled inside and out, and then the lemon juice and olive oil blend was drizzled over the whole thing. Popped it into the oven, and started my basting timer. The recipe said to let it cook for an hour and a half, but I wasn’t sure if I should trust that or the popper. A quick call to the sis-in-law confirmed the popper’s idiot-proofness, so after the hour and a half was up, I switched to ten minute basting intervals. Right around the two and a quarter hour mark, I finally got a pop and out it came. After 20 minutes rest and a masterful carving job by the wife and we ate like kings.

I don’t know what I’ll tackle next (maybe cornish hens?), but I eagerly anticipate each new adventure. After all, I may not be an expert at cooking a whole chicken, but that doesn’t mean I have to be one anymore. I just have to trust in my ability to comprehend instructions, and I should take courage in knowing that so many have paved the way in the kitchen before me. Thanks to them the whole experience of cooking truly can be a joy. Enjoy!

Italio! Like Piada, only closer.

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A couple years ago, I visited Easton Town Center in Columbus, Ohio on a business trip to help open a new Cooper’s Hawk. While there, one of the restaurants I visited was a place called, “Piada“. At the time, I commented in my Facebook check-in that it reminded me of what it would be like to walk into a Chipotle and think to myself, “Actually, what I really wanted was italian.” While their italian “burritos”, aka street wraps, were pretty good, the pasta bowl was the real winner.

So today, I got the chance to try a new local eatery called, “Italio“, In Orland Park, IL. It has nearly everything in common with Piada. There’s the option for a wrap, a pasta bowl, or a salad bowl. There are lots of choices for meats and fresh toppings, several tasty sauces and multiple cheese toppers. My dad and I shared a meatball sampler with the spicy diavolo sauce, and then we each selected our own pasta bowls. I ordered the diced steak for my protein choice, and blended their alfredo and marina sauces. Overall, it was a delightful experience.

In the end, Italio is so similar to Piada that I’m not entirely sure why they aren’t the same company. I’m thrilled to have a place like this within a reasonable distance, and I look forward to visiting Italio again soon. The only thing it didn’t have was Piada’s italian soda tap that offered multiple tasty flavors. Italio does carry little bottles of San Pellegrino’s sparkling blood orange soda, so it’s not a complete loss, but those don’t come with free refills. If you’re ever near a location for either company, stop in for a real treat. If you can make it twice, try the wrap at least once. Otherwise, take my advice and go for the pasta bowl. Vi piace!

Maybe You Get Bad Customer Service Because You’re a Bad Customer | Matt Walsh

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Maybe You Get Bad Customer Service Because You’re a Bad Customer | Matt Walsh.

While this starts out like so many other rants I’ve read, there’s a bigger point here that I’ve seen many times before. There are a great many grown adults who behave like children because they couldn’t take a moment to see outside themselves. The thing that always gets me are the people who think the only way to get satisfaction for their perceived slights is to go straight to “mad as hell” right off the bat. It’s so important to remember one simple truth. Empathy is a two-way street. People will be much quicker to understand your plight if you take a moment to understand theirs. Enjoy!

It’s a kind of magic.

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I had a particularly good shift at work last night. I made decent money despite the typical January slowdown, and I had fun with my tables. At one point I joked that I would open a restaurant called “Allen’s Hands” because I had them eating out of mine. I even won the contest for sales of the special surf and turf. Part of my prize was an order of the bone-in filet and horseradish crusted salmon, which I packed up to bring home.

This morning, I decided to take some of that meal and turn it into a delightful breakfast to get the day started properly. I diced up my side of asparagus and cut up the filet into bite-sized chunks. I added those to a batch of well-whisked eggs and made a tasty scramble. Still, the best was yet to come.

Over the years, I’ve eaten at many a restaurant offering classic ingredients and sauces that I’ve never attempted at home. One popular sauce that seemed almost magical was hollandaise. I always loved how it tasted, but I’d never made one. As I’ve been studying wine, I recently read how there are these restaurants in Alsace, France that open from April to June to only serve asparagus, often drizzled with hollandaise sauce. So, I decided I wanted to make a hollandaise sauce if I could to drizzle over the eggs.

Now, I’m quite certain hollandaise aficionados would be appalled at the thought of a version made in the microwave, but the recipe was quick and easy, and worked perfectly over the scramble, just as I’d hoped.

Sometimes, classics like a hollandaise sauce can take on an almost mythic quality until I’ve attempted to make it at home. Like any good magic trick, once you learn the secret, the trick is no less magical, but now I, too, can make the magic happen. For me, that’s what learning to cook is all about. Enjoy!

2015

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I am not a poet. Not because I’m not a very good writer; I’m quite the talented wordsmith, and I’m well known for a good turn of phrase. However, most of my poetry in the past has been pedestrian at best, the stuff of lyrics and Hallmark cards. I tend to leave poetry to the experts and stick to prose in my general writings. So when the inspiration for a poem strikes it tends to be kind of a big deal. Last night at about 3:49 AM I woke with one line at the front of my brain.

“Her blood is loss and sadness.”

This immediately inspired the following. Just three simple stanzas for your enjoyment.

Her blood is loss and sadness
His blood is toil and tears
They mingle through the harshest times
That pass amongst the years

Her blood is fear and anger
His blood is dread of death
They mingle through the maddest times
And learn to hold their breath

Her blood is hope and laughter
His blood is triumphs found
They mingle though the best of times
The proof true love’s been found

I hope to post at least once weekly to my blog this year. Only time will tell if I make good on this one resolution. Until then, as always, enjoy!

Close Quarters Cuisine

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Last night my wife and I visited a place called Riganato’s in Geneva, IL. We had been out traveling in the area and thought we’d stop somewhere for Italian. Siri included the place in a list of suggested local establishments so we gave it a try.

The place is one of those old converted houses with lots of charm. A newer establishment that opened in 2012, it’s clean and well appointed decor on the inside instilled confidence for a quality experience, but the cheap looking disposable menus made me wonder what to expect.

The menu offers a mix of Greek and Italian dishes, pizza, burgers and sandwiches. We started out by sharing the Arugula and Mozzarella salad. This is a delightfully tangy salad with large chunks of artichoke hearts, diced tomatoes and mozzarella, and is well proportioned. My wife thought it was a bit overdressed, but I enjoyed cleaning my plate with my bread. We decided to go lighter and cheaper this time. They offer a large selection of gluten free options, so my wife enjoyed a yummy pork sandwich and a side of sautéed garlic spinach. She said the bun was well done, but we can only assume it was store-bought. I had a Manchego and Jalapeño burger with sweet potato fries. The fries were quite good, a bit limper than I’ve had at some places but the outside was still crunchy. The burger was generous and flavorful, offering a medium level of heat. To round out the meal, they offer these little mini dessert options that sounded delightful and are a perfect portion size. For GF there is only a house-made rice pudding, but that and my chocolate cake were great cappers on a pleasantly surprisingly good meal. We fully intend to return there some day soon to try their dinner entrees.

These kinds of places have been some of my favorites over the years. There is a certain charm to dining at a place that used to be a home. The layouts are always intriguing, many with fun twists and turns, and a cozy, lived-in feel. Cafe Isabella’s in Tinley Park has been a favorite for years. There are many of these types of restaurants throughout most major cities and I’ve visited a few in Springfield, MO, Dallas, TX, and San Francisco, CA. There are dozens of these throughout Chicagoland worth exploring, and I’ve enjoyed quite a few. I imagine the appeal of opening restaurants in such properties is based on factors like climate-consistent basements for storage, wiring and piping in place for gas, electric, and plumbing, offices and storage upstairs, built in porches or patios, and the charm of creating the feeling being invited into someone’s home.

Whether it’s your first date, or your first date since the baby was born, consider one of these restaurants for your next dining experience, and unleash your adventurous side. Enjoy!