I’m not just here for the food. I am attending the 2020
Chef-to-Chef conference at the Westin Hotel in Charlotte. This is a rendezvous of
roughly 500 private club and resort chefs from all over the country, here to
engage with each other, listen to lectures, eat food, and see new trends. I’ve
never been to anything like this before, but I’ve been to several food shows,
which are one-day events where vendors show off their goods in hopes of
promoting their businesses. Here, there are vendors, but many of them show off
wares, applications, and services.
I don’t have any desire to bore you with the intricacies of
the lectures I endured, but I did pick up some highlights which I will surely
bring back to the club and unwrap with my management team. What I enjoyed more
than anything was the tour we took of three local clubs: Carmel Country Club, Quail
Hollow, and Meyer’s Park. All were unique and similar, and all had their own
flair that they showcased for us; fellow club employees.
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| In North Carolina, private clubs are not subjected to health inspections, therefore, they can do cool things like curing meats, and aging steaks without having to write a HACCP Plan. |
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| These are the bubble girls. Because when you have so much money you don't know what else to do with it, you put acrobats in bubbles. |
First, yesterday was Monday, universally the only for-sure
day off in the club industry. I am forever in their debt for not just showing
us around an empty club, but for bringing in an entire staff to cook and plate never-ending
small plates for us to gorge ourselves on. And second, I was inspired equally
by each club for going over-the-top for us; non-paying non-members. It felt
good to be waited on for once, to simply set a used plate down on a tray and have
somebody whisk it away. I gleaned an essence of what it is to be a member, what
it’s like to be treated like you are important, and I can use this to up my
level of service to our members at our club.
I am also here for the food, and I had a bad taste in my
mouth after our disappointing dinner at McNinch. I wanted to expound on my
experience at the Stalling’s Rockhouse BBQ joint we started the trip with, not
necessarily bbq, but good southern food. We picked a place called The Asbury,
which sat beneath the sophisticated Dunhill Hotel. The door was locked, and
there appeared to be not a soul inside. Fortunately, one of us (not me) had the
idea to go through the hotel entrance, which provided us ingress and eventually
a table for three. And I was wrong; there was plenty of soul in that
restaurant.
When in Rome, you do as the Romans do. When in North
Carolina, you seek out soul food, and you gain weight. They had a menu I could
have eaten. Grits, chicken, biscuits and gravy, porridge, oh my; I’ll take one
of everything, please. I settled on the chicken and waffle with collard greens,
and when it arrived, I could only smile.
Soul food has a place in my heart although I’ve only ever
cooked it much to the dismay of my patrons over the years. I can cook, and I
can cook soul food well, but people in my home region don’t seem to have a
taste for greens, okra, grits, and so on. I’ve always wanted to try real
chicken and waffles in a real southern state, and I was in absolute heaven when
I dug into the perfectly balanced dish. Sweet, savory, crunchy, and chewy are
the best possible descriptors for this dish. I’ve never had anything so great,
and instead of a $200 bill, it was under $20. What a perfect rebound.
We left to check in at the hotel, to find they were behind
schedule, so we left our bags with a stranger and proceeded to attend mini-lectures.
We went out for a late lunch of BBQ at Queen City Q, where I ordered smoked
chicken, brisket, sausage, and ribs, with fried okra and maque choux. We also
ordered smoked wings and pork rinds which were still popping when they arrived
at our table. There were six sauces at our table to choose from, and I tried
them all and once again landed on the mustard-based as my favorite. Truly, I
was in a state of bliss, and I wanted to live my life in that restaurant, but
we had to pack up the remains and get back to the hotel…. For dinner.
To be continued…
