Gathering Together Farm (GTF) is a certified organic farm in Philomath, OR that plants more than 50 acres in vegetables. They have been part of the community since their beginning in 1987. The farm stand and dining opportunities were introduced in 2003, and are now under the leadership of Chef J.C. Mersmann. All of the vegetables that are served come directly from the farm, and much of the cheese and cured meat is made at the farm as well. The menu is seasonal, following the best that the field has to offer. Below is an account of my experience in the kitchen at GTF as a sous chef.

One of my secret passions is knowing what goes on behind the curtain. I love the behind-the-scene-ness of a performance. In high school I worked backstage at plays, and perhaps the most fun I’ve had in a job was when I worked the set up shift at tradeshows in the tech industry. These days my curiosity resides in restaurants, specifically in the kitchens.

This curiosity is what drove me to bid (and bid, and bid some more) at the Philomath Montessori fundraising auction last winter for the opportunity to be a sous chef for a day under Chef J.C. Mersmann at Gathering Together Farm. The farm boasts much more than its restaurant, growing organic vegetables for a CSA serving about 350 families and farmers’ markets up and down the Willamette Valley. But my interest was in discovering what happens to food grown at GTF when it enters the kitchen.

I hadn’t really considered food a performance before my experience as a sous chef (and I’m using this term loosely), but in fact it is. I knew that I wanted “in” on the behind-the-scenes operation, but I didn’t completely understand until I witnessed it that preparation, timing and choreography are all part of getting the meal right. And each person in the kitchen, along with the wait staff, is critical in creating a seamless on-farm dining experience.

Much like other behind-the-scenes situations there are secrets, which if one thinks to ask, probably aren’t secrets at all. Take, for instance, the drop of lemon juice squeezed over the pizza as it comes piping hot from the wood-fired oven. Or the fact that at the staff dinner after the restaurant closes, the chef lets his staff eat their fill before he reaches for a bite. The secrets I learned are part of the sweetness of the kitchen at GTF, and they are part of what makes it a community.

Upon my arrival Chef J.C. assigned me tasks for the evening: making potato salad using the goose eggs that a local farmer had dropped off earlier in the day, sautéing the beets and beet greens and then plating the vegetarian entrée, making vegetable stock to use as cooking liquid, and plating the rhubarb dessert. ‘Easy enough,’ I think, but then immediately have to ask what “plating” means. J.C. explains that I’m to put the prepared food on the plates to be served to diners. I begin with the potato salad and J.C. quickly discovers that I am not speedy at kitchen tasks. Using his personal knife (the lack of sharpness a godsend for me), I carefully cut each hunk of potato to just the right size. He was a generous teacher and a patient chef, and still I couldn’t help but feel shy and not just a little intimidated about my lack of skill and ease in the kitchen.

In the ebb and flow of my discomforts throughout the evening, Brad, the number two chef, would show up with a plate of salami, or a bit of cheese on a baguette, for me to taste. J.C. offered me a spoon of demi-glaze, a taste of pork shoulder, and a tender bit of duck breast (all raised, cured, and baked locally). While I learned that my skills are likely not honed for working-kitchen life, I was welcome here.

The goose eggs were a beautiful addition to the salad (we hard-boiled, peeled, and cut them into large chunks); only a few people ordered the vegetarian entrée; and I rocked at making stock (which requires almost no skill). Plating the rhubarb dessert was my biggest challenge as I had to stretch out 20 servings. The party of 13 the kitchen staff planned for turned into 15 then 17, and finally 20. Was there enough chicken? Enough dessert? The confusion caused distraction and a bit of tension, but as the dinners were plated and then dessert went out the air cleared, the tension dissipated and the energy shifted to the next ticket and new groups of diners.

Mid-way through the dinner service a farm worker came into the kitchen asking, in Spanish, for a cup of coffee. Brad responded and started a fresh pot. They embraced in a warm hug. Three days a week, GTF kitchen staff cook lunch for staff who work in the farm’s fields, so the connection between them is intimately tied to food.

Having no experience in a working kitchen, I have no comparison on which to judge my evening in the GTF kitchen. According to Matt, who was working the pizza station that night and has experience in many kitchens, this one is an anomaly. Matt was a recent hire in the kitchen, but didn’t let that stop him from singing as he worked. He was kind enough to show me how to make pizza and bake it in the wood fired oven. The digital thermometer read 625 degrees Fahrenheit as I slid my pizza off the peel. He was also the one who shared the secret lemon juice trick.

I asked J.C. what makes the GTF kitchen unique. “Like most kitchens this one is an island of crazy,” he responded. “But what defines Gathering Together is our philosophy of generosity. The guests can feel it at the table, and the visitors to the kitchen often remark on it. I value the practice of sharing my knowledge, experiences and responsibilities with the kitchen staff. Because of this generosity they all like being here—and so do I.”

The finale for the evening was the staff dinner in which leftovers were placed on the table, family style, and the staff sat down to eat. J.C. offered up beer from his private stash, and we dined.

For an inside look at the kitchen happenings at GTF check out Chef J.C.’s blog, kitchenpirate.com.