Stephanie and Karen heat up 12's kitchen
May 30, 2003 | 12:00am
Restaurant 12, you ask. 12 what… the number of secret herbs and spices in its special sauce? The 12 different ways you can slice a carrot? The 12 apostles, the 12 days of Christmas, the 12 monkeys who are really behind this whole operation?
Twelve is more of a concept than a number, and refers to the fact that the restaurant invites guest chefs to create new menus for them every month or so. Which brings us to why I’m sitting at one of 12’s tables on a rainy day in Greenbelt 2, staring at the high ceilings, the coolly stark interiors, contemplating the significance of trees sprouting from giant beakers suspended on the wall, and thinking about numbers. Also, waiting to be fed by a teenage girl running around in sneakers.
One of the guest chefs for the week is Stephanie Zubiri, former Young Star Magazine writer and current high school senior studying for the International Baccalaureate. Ah the pressure! I remember those days, being an alumnus myself, I had found it impossible to juggle even a watered-down social life with the hair-pulling stress of IB exams. But here Stephanie was, managing everything with grace and charm – from checking up on her friends and family who have come for support and also to taste the goods, to handling her cooking duties in what is really her first foray in a professional kitchen.
I peek at the menu she has whipped up. At 17, the most I could have probably offered my guests would be instant noodles, grilled cheese sandwiches, and more instant noodles. Stephanie has laid out a combination of traditional classics with some inventive creations pulled from the pantry in her mind. If she were a DJ, her mix tape would include Kool and the Gang and DJ Shadow, the Rolling Stones and the Flaming Lips – but enough with the bad analogies since it’s time to eat.
I am treated to a sampling of delights, starting with the porcini mushroom soup, which is smooth and creamy with a hint of mint and a touch of basil. For the main courses we had the seabass sushi, Stephanie’s most popular dish. Imagine a big slab of sushi, and not the small roll kind you just pop in your mouth. Baked Chilean seabass is perched on top of a bed of sushi rice and wrapped snugly with a strip of seaweed – like a sea-green obi tied around a flowing white kimono, and just as lovely, especially with the drizzle of a spicy mustard and sweet soy sauce that gave it its taste and color.
The duck confit came smothered in a sweet and sour sauce made tangy with zest of orange and lemon, and laid over slices of grilled banana and bokchoy. Toasted almonds and pepper were sprinkled on top, the confit-confetti at this party. Lastly, a golden oldie was brought out, chicken parmigiano with linguini and pesto lightly topped with shaved parmesan, a dish Stephanie usually makes for her family.
After I had stuffed myself, la chef du jour came by to ask me if I had indeed stuffed myself OK. Ms. Zubiri is deferring college for now and heading for a year of training in Basic Cuisine and Pastry at Cordon Bleu, the renowned culinary institute in Paris. She had never formally trained before, but learned through experimentation and cooking at home, and this stint at 12 was a great opportunity for her to show off her homegrown skills and prepare for more heat in the kitchen under master chefs who act more like military commanders.
"Cooking and writing are really my two passions. Maybe one day I can combine the two, and write a cookbook," she quips. She extends her arms out from under the sleeves of her white uniform – with the battle scars of the initiate. She is now a real chef.
Dessert time. I scan the list of six delectables and deliberate with difficultly over what not to get. Fortunately, the choice has been made for me, and I dip my buds into the almond teacake with strawberries, draped in vanilla and chocolate sauces, and the fresh fruit minestrone with mango sorbet floating in a papaya-lime soup. Karen Yang is the devil behind these delights, the 26-year-old daughter of old McDonalds. Perhaps tired of a lifetime of McDo apple pies and hot fudge sundaes, I wonder if she fled to Stanford and then to the Cordon Bleu with the promise to never again eat any sweet, frozen or baked, that was squeezed out of a machine.
Yang is actually a computer science grad turned pastry chef. It does boggle the mind – one doesn’t usually associate the rigid rationality of programming with the sweet, sensuous and sinful pleasures of creme brulees and chocolate parfaits. Even her fiancé, whom she’ll be married to this December, is another programmer, and one she met at the Cordon Bleu. I detect a pattern here. Perhaps burnt out computer geeks in a depressed tech economy de-stress by throwing themselves into a frenzy of baked goodies, a commodity that will never go out of style.
Actually, I think it’s rather because being a pastry chef does require a precise and mathematical mind. Baking is different from cooking in that exact measurements, timing and ingredients need to be adhered to or else your meringues will melt, your flans will falter and your dough will definitely deflate. I ask Karen if it is difficult being a female in a male-dominated pastry cheffing world. She said that it was, and in school, she had to start at the bottom, scrubbing floors and crying because of rude French chefs who wouldn’t hesitate to embarrass you for making mistakes. Being a girl, however, was easier because people tend to be less rude, but on the other hand, harder because it takes a lot of physical strength to carry on in the kitchen, lifting heavy trays and buckets of batter. And yeah, it’s hot in there.
After the Cordon Bleu, Karen interned with the famous Pierre Herme, dubbed the "Picasso of Pastry" (hopefully not from his blue period), and this is the man who has largely influenced her direction in pastry. She hopes to open up her own shop in San Francisco one day, but hasn’t completely abandoned her other love, computer science. Hmm, maybe she can combine the two and write a program that automatically reduces the calories involved in chocolate chip cookies and glazed donuts. I wonder how the heck she keeps thin, being around so much creamy fillings, being professionally obligated to try out every patisserie she sees. She says she walks a lot in San Francisco, but that has changed when she got back to Manila. Anyway, she’s more concerned now with finding a wedding dress.
Karen moves back to the kitchen to join the rest of the busy staff. The open plan of the restaurant enables patrons to see the cooks hustling in the kitchen, preparing our meals. A connection is formed, between the chefs and the guests, and the food becomes alive, not something that could’ve been whacked out of a can and heated in the microwave. There is a contrast in the way the two young guest chefs work – Stephanie, in a printed headscarf and hoop earrings, looks more like a gypsy than a fry cook, and has that certain teenage stamp of disorganization, the method hidden in the madness. Karen, on the other hand, has got her methodology down pat, and seems to be in control of her environment. And yet – their results are both proof that dedication and a passion for cooking are the most necessary ingredients, and these are the strongest flavors that come out.
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