The markings on a chef’s hands conspire to tell the unabridged story of a culinary career. In the same way that war veterans compare battle scars, chefs wear every callus and burn with unmitigated pride. Part of that pride bears from the fact that being a chef is—literally and figuratively—way more than just a 9 to 5 job; it’s a mindset.
The American-Statesman recently visited the homes of three successful Austin chefs, observing what happens when the professional becomes personal.
Ryan Samson, Head Chef of Vespaio and Enoteca Vespaio
By most standards, Ryan Samson and his wife, Maggie, lead hectic lives. The young couple met as culinary students in Vermont, and they’ve spent much of their marriage following job opportunities around the country. For the past five years, they have worked their ways up the ladder at South Congress’s sister restaurants, Vespaio and Enoteca Vespaio, where Ryan is head chef and Maggie is a manager. (Full disclosure: I work at Enoteca’s deli, and Maggie is my boss).
Ryan and Maggie live in one of those South Austin neighborhoods where every house looks pretty much the same, except to the people who live there. The unremarkable exterior of their ranch home belies an interior that oozes uncluttered sophistication. The sectioned-off kitchen offers only enough room to work, and open space occupies the rest of the ground floor. Sparsely arranged furniture—impressive in form, but clearly selected for functionality—draws the energy naturally from the front of the house to the back.
On the rare occasion that Ryan and Maggie are able to share a meal, they prefer to cook and eat on the patio that overlooks their spacious backyard and garden, which buffers sound pollution from closely-positioned neighbors. The garden—yielding more than 20 vegetables, fruits and herbs at a given time—runs roughly 75 feet along one side of the yard, contrasting explosively with the buzz-cut clean grass. Absorbing the juxtaposed greenery from a shaded table on the patio, one understands implicitly why Ryan spends most of his free time outside.
Growing up in a family of cooks, Ryan developed an enduring appreciation for fresh food and self-sufficiency. When using vegetables from his garden is not an option, Ryan buys organic produce. The avid hunter also prefers meat from either local animals or animals that he killed. Evidence of Ryan’s do-it-yourself outlook can be found inside the house, as well. A massive pine bench that Ryan built with his father trails one side of their dining table, providing a sturdy alternative to the patio during ugly weather.
Ryan recently demonstrated how he handles a typical session on the grill. “I like to use B&B charcoal,” he said. “It tastes much better. It’s local, too… Once it catches fire and you dump it out, it’s good to go, and your food doesn’t taste like kerosene.” Ryan’s butane-free menu included a garden-fresh artichoke salad, asparagus spears, bruscetta, an aged rib eye from Central Market and homemade venison sausage mixed with local pork and garden herbs.
Maneuvering around open flames at work and home can be tricky business. Ryan acknowledged that he “used to get burned a lot,” before adding with a laugh, “Now I kind of have asbestos hands. If I get burned on my fingers, it’s a really bad burn, like a third degree burn.”
His hands may lack feeling, but that hasn’t stopped Ryan from using them to provide for himself or others.
Mark Chapman, Executive Pastry Chef of The Driskill Hotel
Were you to seek the lexical meaning of the term “bachelor pad,” you would probably find a picture of Mark Chapman’s Westlake bungalow next to the definition. A cozy retreat nestled amongst trees on the older side of Lake Austin, Mark’s house easily could belong to Tom Hanks’ character in “Big.” From the drum set in the den to the bicycle dangling from the parlor ceiling to the imported patio furniture that doubles as a dining set—the place reeks of rustic bliss. And with a private entrance to Lake Austin directly across the street, it is also an ideal place to experience the city’s natural beauty.
As the executive pastry chef at the Driskill Hotel, Mark spends long hours away from his home kitchen, which he recently outfitted with stainless steel appliances. His sleek two-level house pivots around a central hallway. The rooms bleed into one another, thanks to a minimum number of doors and a strategically placed window hole that frames the main living and dining room from the elevated kitchen.
On Sundays, the only day he is able to cook at home consistently, Mark likes to entertain friends—most of whom are also chefs. “Because I’m single, I go to the store and cook for one or two during the week,” he said. “And on the weekends, it may be up to six or seven.” One of Mark’s frequent guests is Josh Watkins, the new executive chef ar the Driskill, with whom he owns a small boat. Because of where Mark lives, the boat stays in his driveway and often factors into weekend get-togethers. Mark and his chef friends like to cram into his bite-sized kitchen, grabbing ingredients from the fridge and improvising a feast fit for boating.
On a recent evening, after working all day at the Driskill, Mark showed us how he prepares such a meal. The water-friendly menu consisted of ahi tuna and olive tepanade quesadillas, organic red chile sausage breakfast quesadillas, breakfast pico, cherry streusel cobbler, purchased muffins and bloody marys.
Before moving to Texas in 1997, Mark held a number of high-profile jobs in New York City, including an unpaid internship with Jacques Torres at the original Le Cirque. His last job in Manhattan was as the executive pastry chef at Maxine’s, where he had the staff seeing red on his first day. “I had all the crew down, doing a demo, showing them the kind of work that I do,” Mark recalled. “And two minutes into the demo, I whacked my fucking hand open and had to rush off to Mt. Saini (Hospital).” Despite the sometimes sanguine conditions, Mark is nostalgic about his time in the city.
“Working in New York, you worked in such small spaces,” he explained. “It’s amazing the work that’s produced in a very small space. And my (home) kitchen is probably 10 feet by eight feet. That said, I can get a lot done in a small space. People who haven’t worked outside of Texas don’t understand.”
Kristine Kittrell, Co-Executive Chef of El Chile, El Chilito and El Gringo
She looks harmless enough, even inviting. But don’t be fooled—Canadian-born Kristine Kittrell (maiden name: Stortini) is in the mafia. She, along with three like-minded guys, comprise the Manor Road Mafia, whose victims tend to be more of the livestock or swine variety than the rat or fink. The Manor Road Mafia, you see, is the name adopted by the four founders of the popular East Side eateries El Chile, El Chilito and El Gringo. Kristine shares the responsibility of overseeing the kitchens at all three restaurants with chef Jeff Martinez.
Five years ago, Kristine and her husband, Casey, purchased a home a few blocks east of I-35, somewhere between the river and Manor Road. The property’s location was promising, but the actual house required some imagination. With little professional help, Kristine and Casey essentially gutted the existing structure and rebuilt a home around their lifestyle. After sanding and refinishing the original hardwood floors, they decided to use the large space into which the house opens as a dining room. The living room therefore was relegated to a small alcove that abuts the kitchen, affording whoever sits there a courtside view of the action.
“I wanted open space, some kind of serving bar, and it had to have good flow,” Kristine recalled of her renovation goals. “I wanted everything accessible so that when people come over they don’t have to ask me where stuff is.” The realization of Kristine’s vision is a compact kitchen space in which the minutest details—from the faceless cabinets to the assembly-line arrangement of the appliances—reflect thoughtful consideration. Everything Kristine needs to prepare a meal is within reach from the center of the floor.
Kristine and Casey host dinner parties several times a month, including “a couple of humdingers every year.” Their interest in feeding friends spiked five years ago, when they studied Thai cooking while vacationing in Chiang Mai. Upon returning, they purchased a custom-built outdoor wok stand, which still serves as the cornerstone of their dinner parties.
Kristine allowed us to watch her host a recent lunch party under the pergola in her quaint backyard, which provides easy access to both the indoor kitchen and the outdoor wok. Using ingredients purchased at the Hong Kong Supermarket on Research Blvd. and and the Say Hi Market on Burnet Rd., Kristine prepared a menu that included homemade fishcakes, spring rolls, green papaya salad and duck red curry mixed with eggplant, pineapple and grape tomatoes.
Although her prep-work took nearly two hours, the meal cooked remarkably quickly, thanks largely to the 140,00 BTUs powering the wok. The accelerated cooking time allowed Kristine to be more attentive to friends than the meal—a welcome reprieve for someone who spends her workdays stewing in a sweaty kitchen.
