Roland G. Henin

by Susan Crowther

  That’s the kind of connection Roland and I have. It’s about good, excellent, wonderful cooking and great ingredients, but the other part of it is, where does the food come from, what are the traditions and origins of these different foodstuffs? I love these conversations with him. If you were not talking with a Belgian and understanding its origins, you might think that beef flamande would be a chuck cut, portioned into steaks and braised, where in reality, it is a stew. These kinds of things were in the Master Chef exam, so when it came up, I passed it. A couple of tests later, it comes up again, and somebody cuts the chuck into steaks. Roland said, “This is interesting, but this is not how it’s done.” During the Master Chef test, we ate that, together. The two of us could go on and on about beef flamande all night, about what this food is and what it represents: what size of the cut is used; what are the ingredients; how much onion goes in; what type of beer? You can’t use a Budweiser. You need dark ale, because it will give a rich flavor to it, instead of being too bright or bitter. He and I can have that kind of conversation: him understanding precisely what this dish is and my visiting that area and having an Old-School Belgian colleague. Those conversations are rewarded when you understand the origins.

  Roland speaks from the heart, which is fine, but if you don’t know him, you may interpret that as harsh. He’s not being harsh; he’s being honest. There’s nothing personal in what he’s saying. People can be so thin-skinned that when they get real feedback, it might not be pleasant to hear. Roland doesn’t filter what he says. He’s not going to get caught up in the pleasantries of it. His feedback is factual, measurable, and objective. Sadly, people think, Oh gosh, did you hear what he had to say? I’m like, “Yeah, I heard it. He was spot-on.” That’s one of the things I absolutely admire about him. If you’re not ready for professional, honest feedback, then boo-hoo on you. My feedback is exactly like his. I don’t beat around the bush; I give it straight like he does.

  In Michael Ruhlman’s book, The Soul of a Chef, numerous people say he portrays me as the villain, because I leaned menacingly into CMC candidate Brian Polcyn’s face saying, “Your knife skills have to be good, all the time.”

  Author’s note: The exact quote is as follows:

  “The major thing is your knife skills.” He looks Polcyn dead in the eye and says, “You really need to have good knife skills.”

  “Yes, Chef.” Polcyn swallows at the insult and cannot hold his tongue. “Actually Chef, I do have the knife skills. It’s just that sometimes they don’t come out.”

  DeSantis leans into Polcyn’s face, and with quiet menace says, “During these ten days they have to come out.”

  “Yes, Chef.”

  RON: I was not menacing; I was being matter-of-fact and giving straightforward advice. Someone saw it as I’m being a villain, and that’s what people don’t understand. You hacked off a hunk of this terrine and your knife skills were horrible. They were sloppy, and I told you your knife skills have to be exceptional, especially during this exam, and the author saw me as being a menace. How I said it to that chef was exactly how Roland would have delivered it. So, I think our mentorship styles are extremely close.

  When you are part of my mentor circle, you’re in for life. When Roland works with people, he’s always available for them. Probably the most rewarding project we’ve worked on together is the Cancer Nutrition Consortium (CNC). CNC is an extremely rewarding part of my life. I’m one of the founding members on the board. One of the biggest benefactors has been Delaware North. Roland and I developed a team of chefs and nearly 100 recipes to benefit patients undergoing chemotherapy. Cooking videos are primarily from some of Roland’s chefs, such as Percy Whatley and Kevin Doherty. On the website are all these things that CNC has provided for cancer patients, under Roland’s leadership—recipes, photographs, and videos: see www.cancernutrition.org.

  For the last three years, he bugs me to go salmon fishing with him, sending pictures of the salmon he catches and his boat. I’m optimistic that 2017 will be the year. It’s not such an unusual thing, because if you understand what we do in our craft, the natural thing is to know where the food comes from and go from there. Most of us grow vegetables and herbs and support farmers markets. His going to the sea—going to the source, catching that fish and having people join him—is his way of saying, “If you really want quality food, let’s go out and catch that fish. It’s going to be the most delicious fish you can ever imagine, because you’re going to catch it and eat it as fresh as possible. You’re going to be part of the entire process where you’re getting up early, going out against the sea, and dropping and hauling the line.”

  It’s just an obvious thing that he would ask. We’ve gotten together over the years and had fellowship of the table so many times. It’s so rewarding and such a great way to exchange ideas. You talk about things like the Master Chef test and how to strengthen it, mentoring others, and how to drive things forward that are good for our industry. Those are valuable conversations, but taking that bigger step of going to the source and catching the food is so Roland Henin. That is exactly the right kind of thing to do.

  Rich Rosendale, CMC

  Chef & Entrepreneur, Rosendale Collective; Advisor, Bocuse d’Or USA 2017; Star of Emmy-nominated Recipe Rehab on Zliving

  You never know who you’re training—you may be training the next Thomas Keller.

  RICH: The first time I met Chef Henin was in 1998, as an apprentice working at Hartmut Handke’s restaurant, in Columbus, Ohio, where we were hosting a CMC dinner. This is something they would do once or twice a year—all the Master Chefs would come together and each of them would prepare a different course. Chef Henin, being one of the CMCs, would do one of the courses. I had heard about him, obviously being Thomas Keller’s mentor, for one thing. Roland Henin had an ominous, legendary reputation, one that would command respect.

  SUSAN: What led you to apprentice with Hartmut Handke?

  RICH: The culinary world is this big ecosystem. There is a lot of crossover, a lot of relationships that run parallel to each other. You may not have worked with somebody but feel like you know them because of the lineage of chefs who came through these kitchens. There is a lot of cross-pollination of cooks and chefs who worked with each other’s mentor. When I finally met Thomas Keller, I felt like I already knew him well, because of my working closely with Chef Henin all these years.

  I was a young apprentice at the Greenbrier resort. The Greenbrier has an old apprenticeship program—founded in 1957, it is the oldest program in the United States. You could be a young chef working with Chef Henin and may not understand his degree of training and the world he is coming from, but the Greenbrier program runs in the manner of Escoffier and the classical kitchen brigade, a European-style apprenticeship. I used to wear a starched chef hat and neckerchief; that’s the way the Greenbrier was. Many CMCs have passed through that kitchen. An amazing depth of talent came through there. You would hear Roland Henin’s name muttered many times, as a way for other chefs to motivate you. The apprenticeship season ran from April through November. In November, you had the opportunity to work during off-season and return in the spring. I decided to work with Hartmut Handke, a CMC who also used to be the executive chef at the Greenbrier, and who was also good friends with Roland Henin—again, a lot of crossover. You’re a few degrees away from every other chef; it’s a big sprawling network.

  Chef Henin has been in both worlds: out there in the public restaurant and Michelin world, but also coming from that CMC/European training. It’s almost like two different worlds. Chef Henin touched both of these groups, like a bridge between different sectors of the industry. And also, he’s touched the competition world; Chef Henin understands and participates in the entire culinary spectrum.

  You don’t see Thomas Keller and Daniel Boulud taking the CMC exam, but the cooking principles are the same. It’s why I get along with them; we understand and appreciate each other. There are not a lot of places where you can get this kind
of training anymore. You’d have to go to Europe, to these old brigades with Escoffier-style training, and that’s just not common. It used to be part of a chef’s upbringing: work with a chef, through all of the disciplines in the kitchen: charcuterie, saucier, etc. This form of education, the apprenticeship, is becoming a lost art.

  In the Michelin world of restaurants and restaurants in general, competition hasn’t been something you see a lot of—that is, up until now, with Thomas Keller and Daniel Boulud very much involved in the Bocuse d’Or world culinary competition, in Lyon, France. Hartmut Handke also competed in the Bocuse d’Or. At the Greenbrier, culinary competitions were a large part of your training program. Their legacy is now passed down to me, as the next generation of chefs. I have a restaurant in Virginia and am also in the Bocuse world. I go out to the French Laundry in January to mentor the next competing team.

  The origins of so many of these relationships, these seeds, were planted through people like Chef Henin. Think about what he started and what has manifested; it’s remarkable, a ripple effect. You couldn’t possibly imagine the reach that it had: the chef who took somebody like Thomas Keller under his wing and shaped him, and look how many people Chef Thomas has trained and influenced. And now, here I am—a different generation, talking about Chef Henin who has influenced me, flying out to the French Laundry next month to give feedback and critique to the next team competing at the Bocuse d’Or. It’s layers of an onion, all connected and traced back to someone like Chef Henin. Chef Thomas and I didn’t know anything about culinary competitions and the Bocuse d’Or until somebody like him exposed us to it.

  I tried out for the Bocuse d’Or in 2008, the first time that Keller, Boulud, and Henin all had gotten involved. At the time, I was team captain for the Culinary Olympic team, and I was opening a second restaurant, plus having a child. My wife was not thrilled when I decided to try out, because it’s such a consuming endeavor. But I said, “Hey, all these people are involved in this; I’ve just got to throw my hat in the ring.”

  They announced the tryouts, and I went through the process. Eventually, you make it to the final cook-off in Orlando. I was the first chef out of twelve to put my food up. I thought I did well; in the end, Timothy Hollingsworth from the French Laundry was selected. I got second place and Michael Rotondo from Charlie Trotter’s restaurant placed third. When they put the medal around my neck, I said I would be back. I wanted to compete again and I did … in 2013, I was selected to represent the US.

  Before I was selected, Chef Henin was probably the most important person in helping me prepare. It’s one thing to say you want to do the Bocuse d’Or, but you must earn the right to compete. Chef Henin essentially created the framework for me to be selected, and I followed diligently. He coached me one-on-one. I would fly out to other cities to meet with him. I didn’t think there was anybody else but him who understood what it was going to take. He was the best person in the country to talk to. It must have been a good decision, because I got selected.

  I stayed in touch with him from time to time, emailing him, and letting him know that I eventually wanted to do the Bocuse d’Or. I also was heavily involved with international competitions all over the world: Germany, Switzerland, Luxembourg, and France. Being someone who was also passionate about culinary competition, I would see him at these events. If he would ever tell me to call him anything other than Chef Henin, I would still call him that, because I had so much respect for him. I still call him Chef Henin. Whenever we meet, he asks about my career and my culinary team. He would ask me a lot of questions about how it was going at the Greenbrier. Early on, he had a soft spot for me. He liked that I was getting similar training to his. Anything I talk to him about—whether the CMC exam or the Bocuse d’Or or my experience on the Olympic team—whatever it is, he wants to improve the person, system, or process. He is not standing on the outside looking in, complaining about it. He always gives a solution.

  He puts so much thought into an email and a conversation. Nowadays, you try to get somebody to send you just a text; they misspell half the words and it’s like a partial sentence. This guy writes an email like it is a letter, and, by the way, he still writes handwritten letters, which I think is so refreshing and thoughtful: somebody who would take the time to write a handwritten letter or send several paragraphs in an email, with proper etiquette. It’s just uncommon.

  SUSAN: What qualities attracted you to each other?

  RICH: I’m a disciplined person. Some might say intense, but I think of it as passionate, and he could see that. He’s always going to help people and offer his feedback. People like him see qualities in someone that the person may not fully realize or may not see in themselves. He will try to bring out the best in you. Who knows … maybe if some of those emails had never come across to me, I might have taken a different route in my career. Maybe I wouldn’t have tried out for the Bocuse d’Or.

  We take the journey for granted: no matter what, the outcome is always going to be the same. Subtle or seemingly insignificant interactions with somebody may end up having a profound impact on the trajectory of your life. Conversations with him were meaningful and heavily influenced my decisions. A lot of people will point to circumstances in life as being what drives where you’re going to end up or what you’re going to accomplish. I don’t think that’s the case. I believe what we’re going to achieve is based on decisions, and your decisions are heavily influenced by the people you surround yourself with. I feel fortunate to have met him and to have maintained our relationship.

  The CMC exam needs to live and have a more relevant position in our profession. We need more people to take it. A lot of chefs are scared to death to take that exam, because it’s pretty likely they’re going to fail. The fail rate is about 90 percent. I think he saw, in me, somebody who could pass it, and so he pushed me. He also believed I was someone who could complete in the Bocuse d’Or, and so he pushed me. I’m glad he didn’t just shoot off a two-line email, because who knows how things would have turned out? Maybe there were some parallels in his career that he saw in my experience. You look at Thomas Keller. If he had not met Chef Henin, who knows … maybe the French Laundry wouldn’t exist. You think about the ripple effect that he has had on American cooking, and how many lives have been touched—not just the chefs, but the cooks who work for the chefs, and the people who work in these restaurants, and the customers who eat in these establishments, and buy the products, and share their passions with more people. It all starts with Chef Henin meeting someone and having that initial dialog.

  SUSAN: Describe a few Henin stories that represent the man.

  RICH: In preparation for the 2013 Bocuse tryouts, I decided to contact Chef Henin for his advice. This is a year before the tryouts. I had not yet taken the CMC. I was executive chef at the Greenbrier, which is a huge property: 750-room hotel; 15 kitchens and 200 chefs. The Greenbrier is a massive operation and still, I wanted to compete. I reached out to him, asking “What do you suggest?” He sent me this email back. Wow. I just reached out for suggestions on how to plan and prepare, and his response was like … it was like he was waiting for the question.

  Basically, Chef sent me a blueprint. It was everything from: what would you expect; creating a training kitchen; talking to my employer about the commitment required; talking to my family; talking to my employees about what it’s going to take; fund-raising and having the capital necessary to fund doing it right, to be ready; getting an isolated training kitchen, solely dedicated for my training; maintaining my role in my personal family life. As executive chef of this property and overseeing the apprenticeship program, he suggested hiring a trainer to develop my stamina, making sure I wouldn’t fatigue. His being a runner, I’m not surprised that he would factor fitness into the training regimen. He also suggested taking the CMC (which I did), as part of my training for the Bocuse d’Or.

  Most who would read this, their heads would be spinning. They’d be like, WOW. You’re talking about taking a ye
ar of 100 percent relentless sacrifice while you’re working a full-time job, and you also have all your normal personal commitments with roles as husband and father. A lot of people would have thought, this is crazy, but for me, I knew, This is it. This is what it’s gonna take. He’s 100 percent right. I took that and used it as my framework—The Plan.

  I took that email, printed it off, and highlighted it. I used the topics as bullet points for what I was going to do that year, leading up to the tryouts. Mind you, this was just for selection to be able to compete. I went so over-the-top for preparing and finally getting selected. Then, I used a lot of his principles and training again, for being focused in the actual competition. When he said, get a training kitchen … when I was at the Greenbrier, I discovered a nuclear fallout shelter built during the cold war, a decommissioned bunker. I commissioned the maintenance team to go in there and jackhammer out the floor in the cafeteria, and we built an exact replica of the kitchen I was going to compete in, in Lyon, France. That’s where I trained—behind a twenty-eight-ton glass door. People would look at me and they were like, Does it really take all this to get ready to compete in a culinary competition? Chef Henin understood. His emails would talk about how everything had to be exactly as it was, in France. Your muscle memory for reaching for something and dropping something off should also be pulling something back; no motion could be wasted during the competition. He was probably the only person I knew who got it. There was nobody else who spoke that same language. It may be one of the reasons he had this relationship with me. He knew I understood what he was saying and that I was going to do it. And I did. I did everything he said.