Melba's fame

When Jeff, my Great Ciao coworker, caught a box of rye Melba toast on my desk I got a little defensive. The Great Ciao warehouse contains half a dozen brands of hand made crackers from around the world, so why on earth would I eat factory processed, twice toasted, bread cut lengthwise? I squinted at Jeff as he approached, “Melba Toast...,” he started, and I thought “ya, so, it's totally awesome with hummus. Deal with it,” with an urge to tuck my Melba toast box under my purse. But, to my surprise, he finished his thought, “was invented by Escoffier for a ballerina.” Jess (my favorite coworker) chimed in, “I knew that about Peach Melba. Weird.”

Hence, my mostly true story of Melba toast:

At the turn of the 19th century, THE famous chef, Auguste Escoffier, naturally attended high art functions. He was no stranger to art openings, plays, ballets, and operas among other events. His fancy suit matched the embroidery on his beloved wife, Daphne's, dress.

Amongst the highest London society, Escoffier came upon opera singer Dame Nellie Melba, and was immediately spellbound. He waited in an ornate gold and marble opera house lobby, nervously sipping champagne, to meet her. When the graceful Australian beauty finally arrived it took all he had not to shout, but only to offer bashfully, “I must cook for you.” (obviously in a thick French accent). When Melba accepted, it took all restraint, and a little of Daphne's, not to do so immediately.

Eventually, Melba booked an elite party at the Savoy in London, thus granting Escoffier's wish. The chef prepared delicate dishes careful to save injury to the talented singer's pipes. He draped warm peach and raspberry sauces over vanilla ice cream (a rare treat in a time with limited refrigeration devices), as to save her vocal chords from stark creamy cold. Peach Melba retains world wide fame to this day. Especially at the London Savoy.

A few years later, exactly 1897, Melba fell ill. She would accept none other than Escoffier's exquisite cuisine to nourish her. Escoffier, flattered and concerned, rushed to meet her requirements. He created Melba toast (named later by Cesar Ritz, you know, that hotel guy) not only for easy digestion, but also for easy keeping, so the opera singer could eat at her whim.

Melba toast also retains world wide fame as well, but with slightly less glamor than it's namesake counterpart. Rather than order Melba toast at a fancy hotel, we usually enjoy it with our great great aunts Helen because she ran out of rye crisps to host slices of spam. Whatever. I still dig it twice monthly with any flavor hummus (not sun dried tomato though, ick) as an all day lunch. But now I can enjoy my snack with a story, albeit slightly fictitious.

Auguste Escoffier, however, was not fiction. As one of the most important chefs in history, he invented the Brigade de Cuisine system(labeling assigning the tasks of Chef de Cuisine, Sous Chef, Saucier, etc), published Le Guide Culinaire (a handbook you will definitely find in great professional kitchens like local La Belle Vie and 112), and helped develop fancy French cooking as we know it. In reality, he has a pretty awesome “up by bootstrap” story that is elegantly told in Fried: Serving Two Centuries in Restaurants by local author/ chef/ teacher Steve Lerach. Escoffier also invented Melba toast for the real Australian opera singer (not ballerina) Helen Porter Mitchell (stage name Dame Nellie Melba) because she was sick. He died, heartbreakingly, three days after his wife Daphne.

Another true story; defending my food choices is not my favorite practice. Food snobbery sucks. I like this particular story because, in a way, it connects us as a humanity. We are here not only to comfort each other, but also to inspire and challenge one another. While I'm not necessarily hoping to make the list of foods named after people (if I were it would be bacon and cheese stuffed pancakes with hollandaise on the side for dipping), I can hope that someone somewhere will remember you and me somehow. Even if it is only for telling stories.

POST SCRIPT:

Wikipedia.org helped tell this story, and also serves a list of foods named after people. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_foods_named_after_people

You gotta check out how Oh Henry (come on, the delicious candy bar?) was named. All I'm sayin' is there might be a wide eyed child standing at the door of a candy shoppe while a fat man pullin' taffy screams.

Loving It

It seems good advice to do what you love. Life, from what I understand, is too short for anything else. As soon as you find someone doling out paychecks for sitting on the couch with a book or the remote, I'm sure I can make you a bajillionaire. And, as it turns out, teaching English to seventh graders takes a bigger hero than I can muster today. I am a waitress. It combines a lot of the things I love: socializing, storytelling, and food.

The socializing part is fairly obvious; I schmooze my restaurant's guests all night. However, the other undeniable aspect (that over two million American servers in 2007 alone can attest) is the interaction behind the scenes. Servers, cooks, food runners, bussers, barbacks, and even the chef are either working super fast in super close quarters or standing around folding or chopping something entertaining each other. All we do is communicate. As a result, our restaurants are our families. Although we may work in different kitchens, and oftentimes cross paths, we create a bond with forced intimacy and weird hours. Awesome tales come from it.

A good server tells good stories. And not just to each other, but to sell food. For example; a Kobe beef cow is served beer and massaged for its entire life before it becomes your food. The theory is that beer makes the cow fat and massage is spreads it all around, so your beef will be perfectly marbled and explode with flavor. A happy cow gives makes a happy meal. And that's just the beginning. Before I'm through with you at the table, you'll be enjoying your happy steak with the wine from the vineyard I told you all about, and fantasizing about that luscious rain forest chocolate you're taking home with you. In my case, I don't just want to tell you stories about food to separate you from your cash; I love learning these stories, and sharing them. I love food. I love the love it takes to prepare it, both professionally and at home. I love how we use it to comfort each other, and how we politicize it. I love how it nourishes us in so many more ways than we acknowledge.

After quitting teaching, and over the last three years I've waited tables at three restaurants and with one caterer. I've been working at Great Ciao, a fancy food warehouse and written two stories for a local farmer's market. I have immersed myself in food information and it is my goal to spew it here. Hopefully in an entertaining way.

Someday I might try my hand at heroism again, but for now, I'll sling food.