Such a Glamorous Life!

So many exciting moments have surrounded the publishing of the I Love Trader Joe’s Cookbook.

Receiving that first book in my hands, a moment some of you shared with me, as it arrived during a class at Chez Cherie.

My first-ever book signing, at Mayfield Junior School, with an overwhelming response for this first time author.

The day I walked into the independent bookstore where I’ve been a customer since I was about four years old, and saw the book, not only on the shelf, but on the “New and Notable Non-fiction” table!

                                       

Reading the first reviews on Amazon. Followed immediately by a cycle of obsessively checking the Amazon ranking…this is a sickness many authors share, and it can really eat into your day, clicking and clicking the “refresh” button to see changes that make your heart soar or sink!

And recently, my first live television segment to promote the book. Out of town, no less. Doing a TV segment in a strange city is a challenge. I’m not calling St. Louis strange—I had a great 19 or 20 hours there!

And a terrific dinner at Niche restaurant that stood up to anything I’ve had in LA, Portland or San Francisco recently. Pasta alla chitarra and pork belly with grits? YES! And a luscious rhubarb crumble with house-made rhubarb ripple ice cream. Happy, happy girl.               

                                                                But I found the challenges of being an “on the road” chef to be logistically…well, let’s say interesting.

After several lovingly heated discussions with friends who wish me only the very best, I declined to bring a personal assistant, make-up artist, hairdresser, wardrobe master and/or propmaster with me. Hey—I ain’t Ina, and I don’t merit an entourage.  This was a 5-minute segment on Great Day, St.Louis!  Not an hour-long PBS special. Plus, even with a trusted friend in tow, I thought I’d be distracted from my mission—laser-like focus on hitting my marks and nailing the segment. I’m a mommy at heart, and I know I’d spend time making sure my traveling companion was taken care of, rather than allowing her to do that for me. More therapy needed? Perhaps.

Having decided to go solo, the next step was a few trial demos. I videoed these—a painful exercise for me, but super-helpful to figure out the talking points, and the little things that make a difference. Like tipping the pan toward the camera as you plop the contents on top of the salad. As a left-hander, I’m inclined to tip the bottom of the pan toward the camera—-and that’s not nearly as appealing-looking as the other way. Thank you, Flip video!

Practicing the segment also helped figure out every single piece of equipment I’d need. The producer’s email was very clear—guests should bring absolutely everything necessary to dress the set and make the recipe—the show doesn’t provide any of that stuff. Which brought me to a major decision—not only would I be toting tongs, platters, tablecloths, knives and forks, pans and other equipment, I’d bring alllll the ingredients with me, rather than counting on finding those (purposefully few) items at a local Trader Joe’s.

Seems crazy, I know.

But we all know that products come and go at TJ’s, and even if I’d called ahead, introduced myself to the St Louis TJ Captain, and made a request list, misshipments happen, and I knew I’d have a panic-attack if I had to switch recipes at the last minute, due to unavailable ingredients.

I sure didn’t want to have to recipe-punt right before a live appearance!           Let alone try to find the TJ’s in a place I’d never been, without much time!

So, I selected a recipe with only six ingredients, plus salt and pepper, and I bought triples of everything! Having done a few segments in my home town, I know that TV appearances require a pre-made “hero”—that’s the prettied up, pre-cooked version of the dish for the camera, as well as back up ingredients for—well, for back up, in case something goes awry.

Packing provided some challenges—TSA would snatch that cooler of Trader Joe’s Very Thinly Sliced Sirloin, or those jars of Corn and Chile Tomato-less Salsa in a sweet second if I’d tried to put them in my carry-on. So, weird as it sounds, I packed three packages of sirloin, gel cold packs, jars of salsa, bags of mixed greens, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and all the rest of the cooking stuff in a suitcase, along with a couple chef coats, copies of the book, and oh yeah, the hairspray and toothbrush. That was one head-shaking TSA inspection, I have no doubt…

My carry-on? Well, that was for two identical platters, of course, wrapped in two tablecloths in different colors, so I’d have set dressing choices! I packed a saute-pan, but as I was obsessively running through the scene in my head the night before I was to leave on the “shut eye” flight (that’s several hours earlier than the red-eye!) something occurred to me. Thank goodness for those “should be sleeping, but let’s run this crazy loop in our head, instead” nights…that pan would look fine on camera, but it was anodized aluminum. And I realized that the cooktop was induction—-that pan wouldn’t have worked on those burners!

There’s a TV moment I never want to have…

Disaster averted—I’d just grab an All-Clad pan from the cooking school on my way to the airport. Now, get some sleep!

At oh-dark:30, as I prepared to shine up a saute pan for its on-screen moment, I first realized that my carefully timed manicure would not survive the scrubbing our well-used kitchen equipment would need in order to be ready for its close-up. 

I might get the pan camera-ready, but my nails would be toast. So I started to give it a quick once-over, telling myself that rustic is chic. And that’s when I channeled kitchen goddess, Chris. I heard her incredulous voice in my head:     “You crazy chica! You schlepped all that food half-way across the country, by yourself on a plane, and you chose that ghetto-a$$ pan to use on TV??” 

Uh oh…gotta get a Plan B, quick.

I figured that it would be easier to buy a shiny, new saute pan in St Louis than all the TJ stuff, so upon landing, I set the GPS on Macy’s mode, and grabbed a suitable model (sadly, no beloved All-Clad available). Then, upon check-in, all I had to do was wash that baby up before using it on set…
                                             

                                               in the hotel bathtub, of course!

Thank goodness that occurred to me, as there was no running water on set.

All the planning paid off—everyone onset was terrific, the segment* ran smoothly (although I see at least a half-dozen mistakes), and the producers were happy with the results. The cast and crew claimed the left-overs, and I heard from one happy young production assistant that she was thrilled I left a few copies of the book on-set. She’s got a new apartment, and is going to give her copy a work-out.

Just a day in the glamorous life of a TV schlep—I mean chef!

*click to watch the clip!