Born in a Chef Salad in
the mid sixties and raised by a band of gypsies in the travelling circus. This
was the story my parents used to tell me.
I’ll never forget my father’s comment to his friends that “I was growing
like a weed”. I now realize the
weeds grow right alongside the all the other crops and dream of growing up to
be fine produce.
My parents were on the
forefront of the self-sufficiency movement and longed to grow their own food
and live off the "Fat of the Land".
My father would rescue chickens
that had the good fortune of falling off the trucks on the way to slaughter. We
thought they were the most exotic pets. Those regal poultry; Rhode Island Reds,
black and white Plymouth Rocks and iridescent black Wyandotte. We would bring
them in the kitchen on cool winter nights to keep them warm. Once, we left
one of the girls out and an unexpected frost came and the next morning our
dearest was frozen hard as a rock. We prayed she didn't suffer.
After much scheming, my
parents purchased 50 acres of verdant pastureland complete with a farm pond,
seasonal creek and buzzing beehive in a hollowed out tree trunk. They
built their own barn, which became their home for about 6 months and after one
too many excruciating cold showers they broke ground on a passive solar home
with the help of family and friends.
I swore we had three acres
of gardens. There were herb gardens. I couldn't even imagine so many herbs
existed; culinary, medicinal herbs as well as fragrant edible flowers. Then
came the vegetable garden, which easily measured 50' by 100'. Two 100'
rows of rhubarb were planted followed by two rows of asparagus. These were the
annual crops that slept underneath the snow of the long winters and provided
spring delights as their buds began to peek through the cool soil and signal
the birth of the new growing season. The rhubarb leaves ended up being more fun
when worn as hats than in the tart sauce my Mom used to make. The warm sun
of May, signaled the annual tilling in preparation for planting of heirloom
tomatoes and numerous varieties of potatoes, celery, a cornucopia of squash,
cantaloupes, multicolored peppers, green and yellow string beans, sugar and
snow peas and of course the pumpkins for Halloween.
Since we had a barn, it
had to be filled with animals. There was a family of horses, cows (black and
white belted Galloway’s, black angus and mottled black and white Holsteins),
not to mention chickens for laying eggs and some for roasting. The farm pond
proved to be a popular swimming hole for children as well as the ducklings we
added to the menagerie. When those ducks matured, they were transformed
into a succulent roast duck with wild blueberries. There were free ranging
turkeys raised on cracked corn that provided for an exquisite foundation for our
family Thanksgiving celebrations.
A resourceful child,
instead of the usual paper route, at the age of twelve I developed a French bread
route. I baked fresh baguettes daily and delivered them door-to-door. At
thirteen, I landed my first job at a restaurant down the street working in the
kitchen doing prep work for a demanding military chef who found great pleasure
in barking orders at me to chop faster. When I turned fourteen, eager to
improve my culinary skills I talked my way into my second restaurant job at a
popular seafood restaurant in the picturesque summer community of Boothbay
Harbor, Maine. There, I worked on the line as the fry cook and I learned the
fine art of suffocating hundreds of pounds of the freshest most delicate
seafood with a heavy breading and fried it up until golden brown for the
throngs of tourists who had come to taste our overcooked Maine seafood.
I had a diverse
educational experience that started in public school and progressed to catholic
school with the Bonne Soeurs of St. Mary's of the two Ferry’s as my sister
Renee always claimed. From there, I was off to a private college prep school.
At fifteen, I followed my wanderlust and quest to perfect my French to France
to pursue my studies in the French Lycée. Once there, I landed in a
charming family that took a rough country boy and schooled him in the
foundations of French culture, language and glorious food. After
perfecting French and my taste for the gourmet, I completed my scholastic stay
and decided to make a visit to Geneva, Switzerland. Three days later and two
jobs, (a mime at the opera, a bartender at an English Pub) it was time to
enroll in university and earning my degree in international business
management.
After university, I became
friends with a guy from my little village who worked aboard a cruise ship, when
he told me about the work and the adventures, I knew this was a perfect fit for
me and my quest to travel the globe and experience culture and food. John recommended me to Cunard Lines and
I hitched a ride on a private plane down to New York City to interview. Within
two weeks, I was on a plane to Fort Lauderdale to join the ship. It was an
incredible formation in stellar service onboard the Cunard Princess and Queen
Elizabeth II. After eighteen months of traveling the seven seas, entertaining
passengers 20 hours a day, starting my own business seemed and easy
undertaking.
On a trip to California I
discovered San Francisco and the wonders of food in America. I started seeing
Odwalla Fresh Juice in abundance and thought this concept would be popular
in Maine with all the health conscious.
In 1989 I founded 24 Carat
Fresh Juices and began selling fresh carrot juice. I'll never forget the demos
in grocery stores. "Would you like to try some fresh carrot juice?"
The comments were hilarious. "Does it taste like V8? Will it turn me
orange? Do you have it in the quart size?" The business took off and soon
we were in major supermarket chains as well as at some of the top local
restaurants. I sold the business in 1993 to travel the globe with a focus on
Asia. At the end of 1993, I moved to San Francisco to pursue my dreams and
adopted my son Julian.
The last 15 years has been
spent managing condominium communities in the San Francisco Bay Area. I got
involved in this field because I saw great potential in building strong
communities where neighbors could reap the benefits of knowing their neighbors
and watching out for each other. I reached the pinnacle of my career in
2010 after receiving both my state and national certifications having managed
some of the most prestigious communities in San Francisco.
I treasure my upbringing on the farm and those concepts of growing up
close to the earth and the abundance brought forth from its soil. I love
to introduce my readers to local restaurants, chefs, farms, farm products and
those humble farmers who work in symphony with Mother Nature to contribute to
our sustenance.
