Marco Canora

I meant roasted cauliflower but there is also a roasted sweetbreads component on the plate.

I have to admit that I couldn't help but laugh when reading your question because the infamous "carrot tips", "the part we normally snip off and throw away", are actually pickled crosnes, a tuber from the mint family, that are sold at the Greenmarket for about three weeks out of the year. I buy up as many as I can and pickle them, so I can use them year-round. Nevertheless, in this business it is imperative that you are resourceful and try to find a use for everything. For example, my tuna appetizer, which is described in another thread, uses every part of the fish except the skin and the bloodline. I also use leftover chicken legs, the ones I don't serve with the rest of the Roasted Organic Chicken, to make the filling for the tortellini that is served in our Duck Consomme.

While I understand that the slow foods movement can be seen as a conservative movement, which tries to preserve certain values and resist change, I think that ultimately it is raising awareness about some of the scary practices of fast food restaurant chains in a very positive way. I also think that there is nothing standing in the way of chefs who want to be creative and innovative. The movement, if anything, seems more inspirational than restrictive to me.

Tony, I'm not quite sure I understand your question. Please elaborate. Thanks, Marco

Part of my style is to keep my menu descriptions very simple because I like to surprise the customers a bit. I will tell them what the what main components in each dish are and then assume that they are going to be happy with all the variations. My hope is that there is an element of pleasent surprise in every dish. For example, the menu description for our Braised Veal Breast reads "with roasted sweetbreads, cauliflower and carrots." What the customer gets on the plate is a bit of roasted cauliflower, some braised cauliflower, and a dollop of cauliflower puree. For the carrot component, we serve carrot sformato (a savory Tuscan custard) and roasted carrots.

I look forward to the day I get to redo the entire kitchen because the overall quality of all the appliances is pretty mediocre. I would love to replace everything with brand-new, top-of-the-line equipment, but overall the kitchen's current layout and design have been serving us very well. In terms of front of the house improvements, Paul and I both agree that eating in a noisy dining room where you can barely carry on a conversation with the person sitting across the table from you is awful. We contemplated installing sound-proof ceiling tiles in the dining room when we were remodeling that room and I really wish we had, but at the time, they were a huge line item and we did not think we could afford them. In an effort to deal with the noise problem, we just extended the white felt that previously only covered half of one of the main dining room's walls. We also installed two sound-proof panels on the back wall. These changes just went into effect last Monday but hopefully when our next busy night rolls around, there will be a noticeable difference in the noise level.

Your first question about what dictates menu changes other than availability and seasonality of ingredients is a bit hard to answer. A lot of the time new menu items are just based on random inspiration. I also think about what the menu is missing. For example, on our current menu, we do not have a pork dish, so when I change the menu again, I'll probably put one on. As for our selection of side dishes, the reason that they are what they are is because I like to design main dishes that do not incorporate starches. Most of my main dishes right now simply pair a protein with a vegetable. So, it makes sense to me to offer classic starches like polenta, potato puree, and gnocchi and allow customers to choose their favorites. If a customer requests a vegetable side dish, we always have something on hand--roasted winter vegetables, braised escarole, or something else--and we will do our best to accomodate that customer. As for specials, in the beginning days of the restaurant, I have not had much extra time to plan them. As time moves on and my staff and I have more of a handle on the operations, I hope to have more freedom to be creative. My partner, Paul, however, is not a big fan of verbal specials, so whatever I do come up with usually just ends up on the regular menu. For fun every Sunday night, I do run my veal and ricotta meatballs, which people go nuts for, but the meatballs will never become a fixture on the menu because they don't exactly fit in with the rest of the dishes.

Something I realized after my first couple of nights of work at Hearth was how fortunate I was to have worked in such a large, well-lit kitchen when I was at Craft. In the daily grind of things, I had lost sight of how lucky I was to be working there. Like many things in life, it was not until I had left the Craft kitchen behind that I truly came to appreciate it. At Hearth, we are working with four fewer ovens, which is difficult because it's not like we are doing that much less business than Craft. While the lack of ovens initially posed a big logistical problem, we have learned to compensate by making smaller batches of everything on a more frequent basis. When Paul and I were talking about how we were going to use the money that we raised for Hearth, we decided to funnel most of it towards the front of the house where customers could appreciate it more. I agreed to make do with the existing kitchen and its appliances, which were a couple of years old when we opened. Some day it would be great to renovate, but in the meantime I am doing my best to adapt. Ultimately, I believe that you need to accept the kitchen that you can afford and make it work. A lot of kitchens out there are a lot smaller than the one at Hearth and many of them are putting out great dishes. The bottom line is that a large, well-equipped kitchen does not necessarily make for good food.

It's not too often that I feel any real tension between what I want to serve and what customers want to eat, but occasionally a conflict will arise. I remember when I first opened Craft, I put a tripe dish that I was really excited about on the menu. But after four days we had not sold a single order and I had to throw away everything that we had prepared for that dish. I also tried serving veal tongue at Craft, but that didn't sell well either. In such instances, you really have no choice. If a menu item does not sell, then you cannot keep it on the menu, no matter how much you like it. I know you said that you weren't talking about compromising the quality of ingredients, but the quality versus quantity conflict is an on-going issue for me. Ultimately, I want guests to perceive that they are getting a good value when they come to my restaurant for dinner, and an easy way for a guest to perceive value is based on the quantity of food they see in front of them. It is much harder for some of them to perceive the quality of the ingredients they are eating. For example, one night a few weeks ago, a man approached me to complain about the size of his tuna appetizer. What he did not realize is that he was getting the best quality tuna there is--the stuff all the best sushi restaurants use. To him, that didn't matter; he would have been happier with 8 ounces of mediocre fish. But for those kind of people, I will never compromise. They can go elsewhere if they want to eat large portions of a crappy fish. Incidentally, I know a popular restaurant that buys C grade tuna, which is a pretty unappetizing color, and reddens it with beet juice just so they can serve whopping portions and make a big profit. That kind of stuff disgusts me and I would never go down that road, no matter what the commercial rewards might be.

Every night we have a half-hour family meal before service starts. During that time, my partner Paul and the floor managers get up and speak to the entire front-of-the-house staff. I also come out and talk about any specials we are running as well as any food related issues that need to be addressed. For example, a couple of nights ago, a customer ordered a black and blue steak and then sent it back to the kitchen because he wanted it cooked more. Tonight, I'll mention this situation to the entire staff and explain to them exactly what our understanding of "black and blue" is so that they can then clearly communicate that information to other customers and prevent situations like the one that I just mentioned from happening in the future. During our nightly staff meetings, my partner Paul takes a huge initiative in educating the front-of-the-house crew about wine and points of service. Every night, either he or Hailey Rose, the Beverage Director, pick a wine for everyone to taste and they talk about where it is from, how it was produced, and what its characteristics are. Elena Silva, the service director, also speaks about service issues such as maintaining water levels in the guests' water glasses, polishing silver, and making sure that the staff's uniform shirts are clean and pressed. So, yes, these meetings are considered very important by all those involved. My personal feeling is that to be a good server or back-waiter, you need to know as much as possible about all of a restaurant's food and beverage offerings. Many people also need to be constantly reminded about the points of good service; otherwise, they get sloppy and things slip. All the restaurants that I have worked at have similar meetings where the same types of issues are discussed. The only exception I can think of was the seasonal restaurant that I ran for six summers on Martha's Vineyard. There, we as a staff met less frequently--usually just a few times a month. The difference was that the Vineyard restaurant had a much smaller staff with very little turnover, so it was easier to communicate what we wanted on an individual basis rather than sitting everyone down for a lengthy meeting as we were rushing to open for dinner.

In terms of using local sources, I have always been a big supporter of the farmers at the Union Square Greenmarket. My relationship with many of those guys dates back to my Gramercy Tavern and Craft days, and it's great to still be doing business with them at Hearth. Eight months out of the year most of the ingredients I use are local, but during those four cold, dreaded months of the year, from late November through early March, we have no choice but to source products from elsewhere. When it comes to purchasing certain specialty items, being a New York City restaurant chef is a lot of fun because you have access to products the world over. For example, I always get bay scallops from Nantucket when they are in season, dried oregano from Sicilily and miatake mushrooms and hamachi from Japan.

Hey Alex, Dan hugs you back. We're hoping you'll come visit the restaurant some time soon. Glad to see you are staying in the loop with egullet. Marco

For my tuna appetizer, there are three raw preparations and one cooked on the plate. The first preparation is raw tuna minced through a fine mesh food mill, which gives the tuna a very creamy texture, and paired with crunchy, fried capers. The second preparation is a diced tuna tartare paired with capers and preserved lemon vinaigrette. The third preparation is a sushi-style plank of tuna with a dot of parsley puree and a marinated white anchovy. The fourth preparation is tuna poached in extra-virgin olive oil and slathered with a traditional tuna sauce that is used in the classic preparation of vitello tonato.

I am a huge fan of slow foods, and the menu at Hearth definitely reflects my admiration for the movement. Every item that we serve is made on the premises; we do not buy anything that is pre-made. But as much as I embrace the movement and encourage others to do the same, I realize that in not every body can afford to. The movement encourages people to stop eating at fast food restaurants where the food has little or no nutritional value and to cook at home instead. While this may sound appealing in theory, I think it is unrealistic to expect people who have been working long hours to keep clothes on their children's backs to come home with raw ingredients and spend an hour preparing a meal for their entire family. When faced with the option of going to the store and buying a tomato, onion, lettuce, and ground meat so you can go home and make tacos or taking your kids to Taco Bell where the tacos cost 59 cents each, I think most people are going to choose the latter, simply because it is more cost effective and convenient. And you really can't blame them, can you? The fact of the matter is that there are harsh realities that make this movement seem a little idealistic. But of course, the ideals that the slow foods folks support are ones that I would be ectastic to see become a reality. I will say that, to its credit, the movement seems to be having an effect as large fast-food chains are offering more healthy options to their customers. While this may not be exactly what the slow foods people were hoping for, I think it's a step in the right direction.

While we place a big emphasis on education and training with our front-of-the-house staff at Hearth, I don't believe that the basic qualities of good hospitality, such as personal warmth, an interest in learning, and a positive attitude, can be learned or taught. So, the hiring and interviewing process is very important. My partner, Paul Grieco, has an excellent sense for people with strong potential. Many of our staff didn't come to us with a whole lot of experience, but Paul does a great job of molding and inspiring them. He is able to really get the servers, hostesses, and managers excited about delivering great hospitality and service to the guest.

There are currently two dishes on my menu that really illustrate the classical cooking of Tuscany in a "fresh, modern way." The first is the monkfish osso bucco, where I have taken monk tails, portioned them leaving the bone in, prepared them in the exact manner of veal osso bucco, and served them with the traditional accompaniment of saffron risotto. The other dish is the tuna appetizer with anchovies, capers, and lemon. This combination of ingredients has been used for centuries; I have just tweaked them in such a way that they appear more refined and offer several variations on a theme. As a chef, I find inspiration in classic combinations and techniques, so I try to make these the foundation of all my dishes. I'm really not a fan of this new movement in "laboratory cuisine" that Fernan Adria has pioneered.

Well, Truman, the question you pose is indeed my supreme challenge. Now that I have opened my first restaurant, which happens to be in the East village and does not have a flashy address, half-million dollar kitchen, or a celebrity chef, I know just how hard it is to find qualified cooks. Even when I was at Craft, which had the flashy address, the million dollar kitchen, and a celebrity chef, I had a hard time finding talented, devoted cooks. Now, it is ten times more difficult. (I have to confess that when I first came to New York as a young cook looking for work, I took a job at Gramercy Tavern because of its large, shiny, new kitchen and chef Tom Colicchio's reputation.) Nevertheless, in terms of opening Hearth, I have been very fortunate with regards to the kitchen staff. Each of the cooks is someone with whom I previously worked, and I have a lot of respect for their work ethic and talents. I first met Dan Sauer, my chef de cuisine, on the Vineyard when he was fresh out of culinary school. He worked at La Cucina in garde-manger and then came to New York as a line cook and helped me open Craft. I feel very fortunate to have him as my right-hand man and hope to have him with me for many years to come. Lauren Dawson also came over from Craft to work as Hearth's pastry chef and is invaluable to me. I think I have been able to attract such a great staff because I really try to lead by example. I want them to respect and take food as seriously as I do. Over the years, I have learned that you have to treat your staff well if you want them to stay. To that end, I offer a competitive salary and try to create a working environment that is enjoyable to be in. The bottom line, however, is that good line cooks rarely stay longer than a year at any given restaurant because once they have learned the chef's style, they are ready to move on and learn from new experiences. I also think that the pool of great cooks out there is very small, so it is always a challenge to find cooks who can allow you a day off. In terms of training people to meet my standards, my staff knows that if I am dissatisified with a dish, I will ask them to make it again even if the customer has to wait a little longer for his food. If this is your MO, your staff quickly learns to maintain high standards.

I think that being able to source good ingredients is really a function of my time and experience in the restaurant business. To get the most pristine products you have to first establish relationships with individual purveyors. Over time, they get to know what you will and won't accept. The tricky part is maintaining cordial relations without compromising your standards of quality. When I first opened La Cucina, a seasonal restaurant on Martha's Vineyard, it was amazing how all the purveyors tested me. It wasn't until after I sent orders back, called them to complain about the quality, and became a regular tyrant that I began to see a difference in what I received. It was obvious to me that the caliber of any given purveyor's ingredients ranged from poor to pristine and they need to find someone to sell their mediocre product to. As a chef you need to establish the reputation of someone who won't accept anything less than great ingredients.

The biggest thing I learned at Cibreo was to see how Fabio Picci, the chef/owner, maintained consistency. He was in the kitchen every day tasting and adjusting every dish--The fact that he has been there for over twenty years and is still so dedicated is really inspiring. Also, to see the artisanal aspect of how he runs his restaurant was amazing. Every day a slew of different purveyors came to Cibreo, each with his own impressive product. I came to realize that there was a person behind every ingredient in the restaurant, and those people weren't simply the delivery people; they were individuals who took pride in what they had to offer and were held accountable for the quality of their products, which is not often the case here in New York. While Fabio did not need to be at the restaurant every day because he was surrounded by talented cooks who had been with him for years and knew exactly what he wanted, he still chose to be present. As a chef/owner, I now realize the importance of following his example if I want to ensure the quality of every meal served at my restaurant. In terms of specific influences, I came to appreciate the importance of soffrito, an aromatic vegetable base that Fabio used in virtually every dish. While I grew up eating food that was made with soffrito, his use of it made me realize just how versatile and integral it can be to the flavor of a dish. I learned the concept of treating this base as though it were a caramel, controlling the color and potency from a pale blonde (less concentrated, more subtle) to a burnt umber (very potent and rich), and how different concentrations are suitable for different dishes.