Traci Anello

The Power in Food


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When speechless is a good thing

The last couple of weeks I have been battling this annoying cough. The one you have to just wait out. So with some over the counter meds, hot green tea and gurgling here and there, I’m beginning to combat it. Then, two days ago, my voice vanished. I woke up and it was gone. Not sure where it went but it peaced out sometime during the night.

With every obstacle comes a lesson. I decided to limit my speech for the next few days. This ,my friends, is not an easy task for me. I’m Sicilian so when the mouth is moving so are the hands. When the mouth isn’t moving, the hands are lost. My body is confused. Then suddenly I realize something very important. I’m listening. I’ve stopped to listen. What a concept. Incredible things I’m hearing. It’s like stopping to smell the roses but better. It’s okay not to talk. It’s okay to hear how the other person views the world in whole sentences. When you can’t speak, you pay more attention after the initial shock wears off that’s it’s just not your turn.

For a while today we worked in silence. It wasn’t a bad thing at all. Silence was actually a pleasure. Until my co-worker decided to sing the song “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” completely off-key. My hands couldn’t take it. They had to say something. I put my hand straight up as if to say STOP. Please. The hands were content they had the opportunity to say something today.  We both laughed and realized silence can be fun.

The funny thing for me is when I’m in the kitchen, I generally have Jazz playing in the background. Other than that, I work in silence. I love to get into what I’m making. Creating dishes makes me happy. My hands are too busy to coordinate with the mouth. I love to cook. Some of my best work is done in silence. I used to work with a chef de cuisine. He permitted no talking in the kitchen. He was a master. You didn’t dare breathe. It was like watching a symphony of food being created in front of your very eyes. I loved to find any reason to walk through that kitchen just to see him work. With my hands in my pockets, I would make a brief stop and observe. I learned something everytime. His silent kitchen brought harmony throughout the night. It was incredible.

Wedding cakes are very similar for me. I have to be by myself and I permit no talking. It’s all about precision. Silence is the master. It puts me in a world of creativity. It all has to flow uninterrupted. From start to finish, it’s a private world of thoughts that are reserved solely for this cake. Silence is good. This was important lesson that I passed on to my culinary students.

The next time you have a cold, cough or you just can’t talk, it’s okay. Take some time to listen to what’s going on around you. Silence is a good thing. And if you’re anything like me, you might have to sit on your hands while someone is talking to you because without the mouth to execute a good sentence, your hands can really blow the message with the wrong gesture. Being Sicilian isn’t a bad thing but learning self-control with your hands is beneficial.

I’m thankful I had this opportunity to be quiet. Being speechless has been  a good thing today.


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What do you mean there’s no equipment?…A true story about challenges, faith and triumph.

About 12 years ago, I was working at a beautiful cafe in mid coast Maine. We had a dining room, a lounge and a full gourmet bakery. I was the bakery manager at the time. The one thing the owner said was to make sure everyday the cases were full and looked their best. She said you never know who’s going to walk in that door. Her words rang true a May evening.

A well-known movie company was filming in town. That evening the prop master decided to come in for dinner. By then I had gone home after a long day of fresh baked breads and pastries. He commented on how lovely the cases looked and asked to speak to the bakery manager. The host informed him that I had left for the evening and so he gave her his business card with instructions for when I was to call. The following day I called. He wanted to ask me to come to the set and create a New England style continental breakfast for a scene they were doing. He especially wanted the scones to look like the ones he saw in the case. No problem. It was a long day but a great experience. I worked with them for the next three days.

A well known actor’s caterer happened to be there and asked me if I would fly to Georgia for 6 weeks to make his pastries and help with the desserts for the crew. This was a very good opportunity but I took a couple of days to think about. I decided to go. My plane left in mid June. I packed my favorite knives and some cake supplies (Thank God I did!). I get to the hotel and check in. It was a beautiful hotel. I went up to my room unpacked and then out to see the historic city. I got my itinerary from the front desk and needed to meet the crew in the lobby the following morning. We were taken in a van to an old warehouse with a Sysco refrigerated truck already filled with product and ready to go. The caterer had a small utility truck which had the grills, tables and other set up equipment. The catering truck had pans, sheet pans, some refrigeration and work stations. As I peaked around, I realized there was no baking equipment…at all! No mixers, no measuring spoons or cups, no scales…nothing. My heart sank. I went to the neice who was now my supervisor and her reply was simply this,”Next week you will get a check. Get what you need then.”.

I went back to the hotel room and buried my face in my hands and just sobbed. What would I do without the right equipment? What did I get myself into?? I thought…Hollywood…good money…best equipment. Boy was I wrong. I called a very good friend and told him I was going to book a flight home. This was a nightmare already. He said,”You? You’re going to give up without trying? You? The one that’s always saying never let them see you sweat? Put your game face on?” I told him this is why I called him. He was always there ready to reason with me. I got on my knees and prayed. I prayed hard too. I asked to just get me through this. It was only going to be 6 weeks. I went down to the bar and had a martini and thought about how I was going to pull this off. At 4:30am, the games would begin.

After a brief sleep and a good shower, I met the rest of the crew at the van. We headed over to the warehouse to prep for the morning. I decided that chocolate chips cookies would be my first attempt at beating the odds. All of my recipes were in weights so I had to do a conversion with each of them. I saw a few pallets stacked off to the side of the dock so I got my tea and headed over for a brief thought. After a few deep breaths, I decided how I was going to make this work. I would take a pound of butter and a plastic zip lock bag. I would hold the butter in one hand and put flour in the other. I closed my eyes and when the bag and butter felt at even weights, I had a pound of flour. The repeated the same for sugar, brown sugar, eggs and chocolate chips. I put gloves on and mixed the batch by hand. I portioned them out on a sheetpan and in the oven they went. If this worked, I would convert every recipe that way. Waiting for these cookies to finish was like being in labor. Deep breaths and constantly watching the clock. Even a few cramps found their way in my stomach. I had to pull this off. I couldn’t let them see me sweat. The timer went off and moment of truth was about to show itself. I opened the oven and there they were! Beautiful little cookies that said nothing more than “You did it!!”. What a relief. That was all I needed to give me the confidence to get through the 6 weeks. I tried everything, cookies, cakes, pies, cream puffs, cream puff swans even. When the cater saw what was coming out of the ovens, they presented me with a beautiful Kitchen Aid mixer and anything I needed. This caterer bragged he had a pastry chef that could make whatever he needed. He may have thought that but fortunately he was too busy all of the time to remember what he said. I kept it simple and elegant.
I didn’t have to use that first paycheck on anything more than a new pair of shoes.

By the end of the 6 weeks, I remember being in my hotel room and thinking about how I made it through that mess or challenge as I like to look at it. Then I sat quietly and looked down at my hands. I realized then that I had the right equipment all along to get this job done. I thanked God for getting me through this challenge, strengthening my faith and being there to colebrate my triumph.