The moment I walked into the parlor of the cooking school; I felt at home in a place I had never been. Sitting behind a large mahogany desk, strewn with books and papers, was a large black man in a white Chef's coat with a snow-white beard and a shock of white hair accentuated by a widow's peak. He welcomed me with a Santa like twinkle in his eye and an enormous toothy grin. I gently grabbed the hand for a quick and polite shake. His hand crushed mine in return with an intense yet friendly power.
This very charismatic and unique man was John Snowden and I was in his cooking school for Francophiles or anyone else interested in food. He also ran a semi-legal catering business that specialized in home parties to the elite North Shore set of Chicago. I was there to talk about taking classes. I was twenty years old and at a point in my career where I wanted to stop working in pizza joints and get a job in a real restaurant. As we talked he discovered that I was very interested in making cooking a career. He asked if I had considered becoming a chef. I immediately said yes, not knowing at the time what that meant or even what the difference was between a chef and a cook. He took this affirmation as an opportunity to enter into a long dissertation on the life of a chef. He painted a colorful picture of the hard work, long hours, and often, poor working conditions. He also told stories of great dinner parties, cooking for royalty, being in charge of a battalion of cooks and other chefs. He also spoke of the great chefs in history, names I had never heard before, like Tallevant, Careme, Escoffier and Point. I had just come off a three-year crusade of partying and having as much fun as possible while personally trying to end the war in Vietnam through protests and speeches. I was hooked by his fables. I had never imagined the world of cooking and kitchens to be so full of traditions and artistic challenges. I was caught in the rapture of a world I never knew existed and found it very comfortable to be there.
He must have sensed this, because I barely said a word during his narrative. He ended his oration with an offer for me to become his apprentice. He explained how I would learn far more as his apprentice than I would by merely taking classes. Most of the class sessions were geared towards home cooks and the basics they needed to be able to cook like a Frenchman. If I were to become his apprentice, not only would I attend every one of these classes, but I would also take part in the advanced classes for people who wanted to learn specialty cooking like sauce making or pastry. And then there were his catering jobs. These were mostly grand dinner parties in private homes where we would prepare the classics of French cuisine. He explained that this education wouldn't cost me a dime. In return for this fabulous gift I would work for him by keeping the kitchen clean and help him prepare and serve food for parties. If I was up to the work, he guaranteed I would walk away from this experience with a knowledge of cooking that would let me into any kitchen anywhere in the world. Without the slightest trepidation I eagerly agreed and shook his powerful two and half fingered hand to seal the deal.
We talked for another hour, or should I say he talked, about what it was to be an apprentice. I had an idea what an apprentice was but knew very little about the details of this particular position. In order to set the tone for my education he described his own experience as an apprentice in France under the great Fernand Point of La Pyramide in Varenne.(The very same restaurant to train Paul Bocuse many years later.) Chef Snowden, though he insisted I call him John, had left his home at the tender age of fourteen and traveled to France to become an apprentice. He worked in the kitchens of La Pyramide for four years as an apprentice before leaving for his first job as a full-fledged cook. During his apprenticeship he was not allowed to touch food for the first year. He would clean the kitchen, the dining rooms, tend the garden and look after Madame Point's dogs. This should have sent a clear message to me about my near future. But, I was so enthralled with this man and his stories, he was so charming and charismatic, that I put my apprehensions aside and felt welcome in this New World I was about join.
Comments