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This is part two of a two-part series (check out part one here if you haven’t already seen it).
In her memoir, “My Life in France”, Julia Child writes of many first meals all of which blew her away. Escargot, for example: “I never thought of eating a snail before, but, my tender escargot bobbing in garlicky butter were one of my happiest discoveries.”
Sometimes it’s as much about the process as it the product.
The first time I tasted creme brulee, I was forever changed. Not just the dessert itself, but this whole ritual that happened at the table and the fire — amazing.
Certainly, family meals come into the picture.
Two types of food/dishes come to mind.
The first thing that comes to mind is my mom’s stuffed cabbage. My family is a big Irish family with tons of family recipes that were passed down to the women (and only the women!) but luckily, my wife has the recipe now.
Mom’s stuffed cabbage is still my “death row” meal. It’s a simple recipe but is the most comforting meal on a cold day. Cooked low and slow in a fire-roasted tomato sauce, it’s stuffed with rice, meat, onion, and other “whatever-is-in-the-fridge” veggies — delicious.
The second thing that comes to mind is the first time I had Chicago-style Italian beef as a kid. Another staple in my house, and one of a handful of dishes my mom did really well. My dad is from Chicago, so when my parents met, Chicago-style Italian beef was something she learned to make as a way to impress him. Obviously, it worked because they’ve been together for almost 40 years now.
Succulent roasted beef with vinegary sweet and hot giardiniera is a must-have if visiting Chicago. (Side note, you gotta smother it in the au jus.) Easy to make, even easier to eat. If we weren’t making it at home, we were picking it up from the original Luke’s location.
Grandmas are great influencers when it comes to tasting foods for the first time.
The first time I had a medium rare piece of meat (rib roast) was at my grandma’s house at the ripe age of 10.
You have to understand that my grandma was farm-to-table long before it became cool. At her home in upstate New York, she had a WWII Victory Garden that took up a whole house-sized plot of land. I remember my dad being shocked that I went back for seconds of what I called “bloody beef” complete with vegetables and sides.
I must have been around nine years old when my Nana cooked dinner that evening. Everything seemed normal — she had her usual two cigarettes going, one burning in an ashtray and the other in her hand, with ash dangling precariously. But as I walked to the table, I sensed something special. The big dishes, silverware, and shiny spoons all hinted at a fancier meal.
My Nana placed the main dish on the table and announced it in French: “Langue de boeuf en sauce.” It sounded exotic, and I was thrilled to try something new. She sliced and plated my portion, and with one bite, I fell in love with the flavor. My siblings and I kept asking what it was in English, but my Nana playfully refused to tell us.
It wasn’t until I was nearly full and insisted on knowing the dish’s name that my Nana finally revealed the secret (it’s beef tongue in sauce). I reacted with a shrug, “Ha, that’s no biggie,” but my Nana’s knowing smirk said it all. That was my last bite that night, and it marked the beginning of my culinary journey.
Looking back, I realize that my Nana’s cooking that evening not only introduced me to new flavors but also taught me the value of culinary exploration and the joy of discovering something new. As a chef, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of using the whole animal, and I believe that offal cuts like tongue, often overlooked, are truly delicious and deserving of more attention. My Nana’s dish that night was a testament to the versatility and richness of these underappreciated ingredients.
As a chef, I often look back on my childhood experiences that shaped my passion for cooking. That particular evening stands out — a night that sparked my curiosity and love for culinary exploration.
And then there are the times when you have no choice but to eat what was prepared.
This is a little story of my best dining experience that holds till today. Back in New York, a friend of mine and his family and I were going to see the premiere of the first “Rocky” movie in Scarsdale, New York.
Before we went to the movie, we went down to Arthur Avenue in the Bronx to eat. I can’t remember the name of the restaurant, but the chef was making chicken rollatini that day, (there were no menus)(you ate what the chef was making). Everyone ordered it.
The dish was so wonderful that is still my number one dish that I’ve ever had in my life.
Read My First Time: Part One here.
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