Cooking for Bernie Sanders

It was the winter of 2016 in remote Wisconsin. I was new to the state and had just started cooking in an excellent little restaurant in which I spent most of my evenings alone in the kitchen.

The general pace of service was fantastic, I’d turn out a few groups of four and the occasional 8 top. Then I’d clear down and be on my way.

The menu greatly respected this less than max capacity urgency. By which I mean the entrees were classic French dishes, and a single chef could prepare several at a time with no problem.

However, an unannounced campaign party of 50 people only moments before the closing of a kitchen is not something this menu, nor myself, had accounted for.

Now, I can respect that for security reasons people who are running for an esteemed political office (such as the president of the United States) would not announce there arrival before hand at a restaurant.

But a group of 50 people 10 minutes before closing? My grill was stone cold at this point. In fact all of my equipment was turned off, the food was put away, and I had just finished mopping.

Even the security staff was surprised when they came to inspect the kitchen and found only me there. I kindly offered them some of the stale french fries I’d been munching on, but they exited without any acknowledgment.

The parties orders were now being taken when magically my boss, the restaurants owner, kicks the back down open. She puts on an apron, ties her hair back and give me a disappointed look for not being prepared for the occasion.

We proceeded to get the 50 plus orders all at once and put forth a very valiant, but scrambled effort. In a matter of minutes the completely cleaned kitchen was frantically turned inside out. I’m not going to lie, they all waited too long, some of the food was cold, and it was a little disheartening to not put out my best work.

However, the party couldn’t have been more grateful! I really appreciated being able to give this group of people some scratch cooked food, when I knew they had been on the road for a long time. The experience, although stressful, was incredibly fun! I’d do it again at the drop of a hat.

Bernie ordered the special I had been running that day. A steak sandwich with aged white cheddar, a horseradish cream sauce, and arugula on a baguette. I believe he ordered it rare, but it’s hard to say with full confidence with all the chaos going on.

Normally, after I would close the kitchen I’d have to wait for about two hours for a ride home, in sub zero Wisconsin conditions. I’d normally go across the street to a 24 hour laundromat and pretend to do laundry or read their dated magazines to avoid the nightly snowstorm. On this occasion it was closer to 4 in the morning before all the dishes were done.

Being put in situations like this is one of the things I love most about the restaurant industry. You can make make educated guesses about how your day is going to look and you can play the odds accordingly. Ultimately, it’s a roll of the dice, and once in a while you get surprised completely out of left field.

Who knows, maybe I’ll get the chance to cook for Bernie again some time.

P.S.

To make a nice horseradish cream sauce simply mix 1 cup mayonnaise and 1 cup sour cream together, add in 2 heaping tablespoons of ground horseradish, add the juice of one lemon, season with salt and pepper.