Arlene Stewart - Sweet Hands

 

It's late spring, early summer, 1997, New York City, Hudson River. It's the reopening and rebranding of an acclaimed New York City chef's restaurant. We have to learn his style, his techniques. We have to take his ideas, his palate and put it on a plate. But for some reason, when the chef met me, he decided to make me his personal punching bag. No matter what I did, I could not please him. Day after day after day, he would relentlessly abuse me. He would say things --, “Would you eat that? Would that be something you'd serve your mother? There would be plates pelt--" You know, when you throw a stone and it ripples on the water? He would throw the plate across the path and it would literally ripple across to me. 

 

Day after day, we're getting ready for opening night in the restaurant, and he is riding me and riding me. It's opening night. The runners are running in and out of the kitchen. The wait staff. The kitchen staff is getting their stations ready. My dish is the first dish on the station to go out. Now, the who's who of New York is coming to this event. So, there is an added excitement in this. It's not friends and family night. It is the night. 

 

One of the things that's coming off my station is his tuna gravlax. Now, I know how to make gravlax, because my previous restaurant was a Scandinavian restaurant. Now, gravlax is a beautiful fish, usually with salmon. You take the perfect amount of salt and sugar. It has to be balanced, because if you put too much salt, it will take away the fat, which is so important to give it that smooth, silky, buttery, sexy taste in your mouth. You put a little bit of dill and it just opens up in your palate. But this chef wants to speed up the process. He's using tuna and vodka to make this gravlax. He's not happy with my gravlax. He's on me, on me. So, it's about 05:00, 05:30 in the evening and guests are about to arrive. And he is still riding me, riding me. And I decided, you know what? Fuck this. I'm out, and I walk off the line. [audience cheers and applause] 

 

Now, I'm walking down the west side highway on the river, and I am sobbing, I am crying. I have no rights to be walking off a job. You see, I've been couch surfing and my visa is about to run out, so I really need this job. But I am walking and I'm crying and I'm sobbing, as I said. He is right behind me. He is yelling and screaming at me, “You don't have it. You don't have what it takes to make it in this business. You'll never make it in this business.” It's one of those beautiful evenings in New York City when the sky gets that purple orange color. I'm just sobbing. And in my vision, to my right is the Statue of Liberty and to my left, it's the Empire State Building and I am walking and crying and sobbing. I remember, this is my love. 

 

You see, when I was eight years old, my grandmother's friend came back from missionary in Africa, and she asked me if I knew how to cook. And I'm like, “I'm eight years old.” [audience laughter] She says to me, she's going to set up the coal pot. We're cooking in the backyard. She's going to set up the coal pot and that I need to go to the kitchen coop, get a chicken, kill it, clean it, season it, and bring it back to her. Now, I knew how to do that. [audience laughter] 

 

So, in cleaning the chicken, it's a principle of you have to wash the chicken with lemon or vinegar. Otherwise in a Caribbean house, they don't consider it clean. I have to make this green seasoning. Now, green seasoning is in every Trinidad household. It is a combination of shadow benny, thyme, onions, garlic. You either blend it or you mortar it. So, I do all those things and I bring it back to her. She said, we're going to make stewed chicken, lentils and rice, another staple. 

 

Now, the beautiful thing, if you've ever been to the Caribbean and you get a stewed chicken, it's this beautiful caramel. You put the oil in the pot and you add the sugar. Now, if you let the sugar go too far, it will burn and gives you this bitter taste in your mouth. So, we make the stewed chicken, the lentils and the rice. I'm so excited. I go back to my home and I tell my grandmother. I'm like, “You wouldn't believe what I did.” She sees my excitement, and she decides that she's going to take me on in the kitchen. 

 

Now, I am excited to be in the kitchen with my grandmother, because it's just her and I. This is our time together. Every time we're cooking together, it's just she and I. My grandmother was an excellent cook. She had sweet hands. That's what we call it, sweet hand, when everything you cook just tastes good. She taught me how to make callaloo, and macaroni pie, and bakes and cakes and sweet breads. And I just enjoy the opportunity to just spend time with her and learn how to cook. 

 

So, my future, I'm here in New York, and I'm working through my field and I'm looking for work now, since I walked off the job. I'm going door to door, I'm looking through The Village Voice, and I'm looking for work, and I'm looking for work and I'm being told things like, “We don't hire women.” 

 

Now, you have to remember, this is before becoming a chef was glamorous. This is when someone told me, when I said I was going to be a chef, that, “Oh, I'll pray for you.” [audience laughter] This is before the beer. [audience laughter] So, I'm looking at chef, and they're saying, “We don't hire women. You don't have what it takes to work here,” and on and on. So, I'm on the M10 bus going up Central Park West, if any of you know New York, going up Central Park West. I look and I said to a friend, I said, “You know what? If I tell God I want to work there, He'll let me work there.” 

 

There was Jean-Georges, just opened up. It actually was opening. So, I called up and I asked if they were hiring, and they said, “Yes, bring your resume and come.” So, I put my resume and I came. I am nervous. I remember standing there in the kitchen and my heart is beating. I just can't believe that I'm actually here. I'm looking around and I'm like, “I didn't go to Culinary Institute of America. I didn't go to Johnson and Wales. I don't really have what it takes to be here.” But guess what? He looks at my resume, he thought it was great enough and he hires me. [audience cheers and applause] 

 

I'm excited to be here. It is an amazing place to work. There is camaraderie, there is love, there is exchange of ideas. I'm learning so much. I'm learning the importance of salt, and pepper, and just what acid does to a dish and how it brings depth of flavor and just what fat does to a dish. It's just like a love fest. It just takes me back to my beginnings when I learned how to cook with my grandmother. I can't believe this, that I am now here in this three-star Michelin restaurant, working. 

 

One day, we're having an event and I'm getting my station ready. One of the dishes I have to make on my station is the garlic soup and frog legs if any of you ever been to Jean-Georges. That's one of our staples. I'm making my dish and I'm getting it ready, and I'm putting it up on the pass and I look up and who do I see? My old chef. And our eyes connect. He turns to his sous-chef when he's talking to his sous-chef. You’ll know when someone's talking about you. So, I can tell that he's talking about me. I'm probably sure he's wondering, “Is that her? Is she here?” I remember just standing up and just looking at him like, “Yeah, I'm here.” I have since gone on to cook for presidents and kings, and I can stand and say, I do have what it takes.