Olallie Update (VIII): Kitchen in the front?

To catch you up to date on the progress of my upcoming San Francisco restaurant, Olallie, I am highlighting aspects of the design process that occurred over the past 4 months. The meetings described in this post took place during the late autumn of last year.

Previous progress reports on Olallie can be found here:  Prequel, Intro, Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII

On our drive over to our first sit-down meeting with the Architect at his office in Oakland, N was filled with excitement. I, however, was feeling apprehensive about starting over with a new architect.

"We know this architect is fantastic. We love his work and we know we're lucky to be working with him. Let's trust his creative process and see where it takes us," N said in an attempt to quell my concerns.

We walked into the Architect's office, a converted warehouse with rough-hewn cement walls, broad steel beams, and 25-foot ceilings, and sat down at a long glass table.

According to an email we received days before, this meeting was to focus on programming: "ideation, functional program requirements, look and feel" (architect speak for what do we want our restaurant to look like?).

After admiring little paper-and-wood models of past projects lining one wall, we got down to work. The Architects (now a two-person team) asked us questions and listened deeply as we described all our hopes and desires for our little restaurant.

We declared our desire to be a quintessential neighborhood restaurant, reflecting the character of our Noe Valley neighborhood and our city. I described my "urban farmhouse" menu that would feature boldly flavored, rustic dishes crafted from the seasonal, sustainably produced bounty of the Bay Area. I talked about my culinary influences, from Spain to India to Berkeley . I described restaurants that inspire me, particularly the small, personal, chef-owned restaurants that N and I have enjoyed during our frequent trips to New York City and Spain, especially Barcelona. We discussed a wide variety of topics that have personal meaning for us and that we thought would help inspire the restaurant's design: an open kitchen, counter seating, tapas bars, a wood-burning oven, the symbolism of the "hearth," Slow Food, farmers' markets, eating locally, sustainability, green building practices, using reclaimed wood, textures, wabi sabi, and juxtapositions (urban/rural, industrial/rustic, loft/barn, homey/minimalist).

The Architects then surprised us. "What do you think about putting the kitchen in the front of the building?"

I remembered scoffing at the idea during my initial meeting with the Architect on site. Couldn't he see then that I didn't like the idea? I thought about restaurants in the Sunset district and even nearby in Noe Valley with kitchens in the front, and I wasn't keen on their look. "Kitchens in the front are for taquerias, pizzerias, and diners, not sit-down 'fine dining' restaurants. Isn't that obvious?" I silently thought to myself.

Then I remembered N's encouragement on our drive over to allow the Architects space for creativity. Be positive, open-minded. Trust them. They know what they're doing.

"We're open to the idea. I have some concerns, but we're willing to explore the possibility," I said.

By our next meeting 2 weeks later, the Architects had drawn plans and even built a tiny model of our future restaurant. All of the options featured the kitchen in the front with a wide open view into it from the street. They explained that they chose to place the kitchen there for several reasons.

• It would create a seamless flow between the back garden and the interior.
• It would allow the few diners who were seated in the garden to feel a part of the main dining room.
• It would reinforce the diners' connection to the farm, the fields, and the earth.

When I peered through the window of the tiny model, I was thrilled by the design. I loved it aesthetically and understood the reasoning behind it intellectually.

Nevertheless, something bothered me about the kitchen being in the front. I reacted to the very thought as if fingernails had been scraped along a chalkboard. What bothered me about it? Why did it matter where the kitchen was? I could even think of a few positive examples, like Swan Oyster Depot, Berkeley's Grégoire, and Barcelona's Cal Pep, the latter a major source of inspiration for me.

My negative reaction boiled down to one thing: exposure. Placing the kitchen in the window would be taking the "open kitchen" up a notch. A naked kitchen. Even the floors and floor mats would be exposed. Restaurant kitchens are hot and dirty, full of steam and smoke, grease and grime, sweat and curses and (sometimes) blood. Do people really want to see what goes on in the kitchen?

On a deeper, visceral level, what I really feared exposing was myself. There would be nowhere to hide.

But then it dawned on me.

This is exactly what I want Olallie to represent. Honesty. Truth. Openness. The restaurant exposed, transparent. Letting everyone know "we're not hiding anything." It's kind of like this blog. This is who I am, this is what I value, this is what I believe, this is what I do, this is how I do it. I have nothing to hide.

I know I will find a team of people to work with who hold similar values, so the "I" in those statements will become "we."

I believe it's imperative that, as consumers, we know where our food comes from, how it was raised, how it lived its life, whether we're talking about a shallot or a salmon. In an ideal world we would also know what happened to it once it reached the restaurant — how it was handled, how it was prepared, how it was served, how the parts we didn't eat will be used or disposed of. We would know the labor that goes into preparing our dinner — the faces of the fisherman who caught our king salmon, of the fishmonger who gutted and scaled it, of the delivery person who delivered it, of the cook who cleaned, filleted, and slowly roasted it to juicy perfection, of the server who generously brought it to us, and of the dishwasher who will wash our plates when we're done. Have all those people been treated well and fairly compensated? In the words of Slow Food founder Carlo Petrini, is the food we are eating "good, clean, and just?" Has our dinner been prepared with love?

The window into the kitchen will offer a glimpse into our world. It will help you to answer all your questions.

"That's all nice and good, Brett, but I just want to fill my belly with delicious food, toss back a cocktail and a glass or 3 of wine, and have myself a little fun," says you.

I'm with you on that one. While I'm a passionate supporter of sustainable and ethical eating, I'm no preacher. I'll leave that to others. My main roles as head cook are to forage the best ingredients possible, to make them into something delicious, to hire and train my coworkers to do the same, and to take care of my team to the best of my ability.

Besides head cook, another role as restaurant owner will be that of the host of a nightly dinner party. Olallie will be an extension of my home and those of you who dine with us will be our guests.

The open kitchen in the window, along with the 7 or 8 stools at the counter, will be there to spice up your evening. To add a little excitement and entertainment to your dining experience. It will be like an open kitchen in your own or a friend's home. It's the room where everyone ends up hanging out during the party. It's where all the fun is taking place. It's where the magic happens. With the kitchen in the front, you'll be able to see and feel a part of that action from every seat in the house, even those in the back garden.

I'm trusting my Architects on this one. And I hope that all (or at least most) of you will love it too!

Food|and Drink|Restaurants|Opening Restaurant|San Francisco

Comments

[david L]

As long as you're open by mid-June, whatever design you choose is fine with me...

[Amy]

I admire your willingness to go outside your comfort zone. When I went into the French Laundry kitchen I was impressed with the quiet and precise movements in the space. No screaming, that's for sure. I wonder if being willing to allow people see the kitchen changes it's character?

[matt]

GOD BLESS YOU BRETT for sharing this process with us! It is so completely facinating and you are to be commended for sharing a process that involves every bit of your body and soul. WOW WOW WOW WOW!

[Derrick Schneider]

Brett,

You should also check out Oakland's Jojo. The dishwashing station is in the back, but the kitchen where Curt and Mary Jo work their magic is right out in front. Same ideas, and it works so very well. Plus, we get to say hi to them as we walk in.

[elle]

This is all very exciting...but who is doing your cooking oil???

[Sean]

Considering the proximity of Ollalie to our house, you will no doubt be a proxy dining room for us as well. You'll be sick of our faces before long! :-)

[Anita]

I'm so gald you're blogging again, although I don't begrudge you a single second of the planning, dreaming and even -- gasp -- relaxing in between that kept you away.

We can't wait to sit at the bar. Or in the garden. Or... everywhere. :D

[Linda]

I read your blog regularly, but just had to comment on your kitchen in the front. One of the hottest new high end restaurants in my city, Fuel, has their kitchen in the front and the kitchen bar is the place ti sit. I think it is a wonderful idea and I suspect it will be popular with your regulars. NExt time I drift down to San Francisco, I hope you will be open.

[Brett]

David, mid-June? Hahahahaha!

Amy, the willingness to let people see the kitchen definitely changes its character. From my experience, working in open kitchens forces us cooks to work cleaner, more carefully, and to treat our coworkers with more respect. It has its downsides and it's not for everyone. But it can also be a lot of fun! We get to see and meet the people we are cooking for.

Matt, thank you for your support and encouragement!

Derrick, I've been to Jojo a couple of times and I loved it (though it's been a while and I'm overdue for a return visit). You pointed out another positive aspect of the open kitchen in the front. My fellow kitchen grunts and I will be able to greet our friends and guests who stop by to savor our cooking.

Elle, I'm open to checking out your rice oil, but I have to admit I'm partial to olive oil. Its a better fit with my style of cooking.

Sean, you know I'll never tire of your or DPaul's faces :)

Anita, thanks for your support! Can't wait to have you dine at our restaurant! We'll save a stool at the kitchen counter just for you.

Linda, I appreciate the tip. I have to make a trip up to Vancouver one of these days. So many brilliant restaurants there. I checked out Fuel's website and it looks great (although they didn't have a good picture of the kitchen in the front).

[Lenn]

I'm out here on the East Coast and don't know when I'll be back to the Bay Area...but your restaurant will be one reason to do so.

I've been a lurker on your blog for a while (not sure why...I comment everywhere else) but I just wanted to say how awesome it is to get an inside view of your plans and goings on.

With the passion you obviously have for this project, I don't see any way that it won't succeed.

Good luck.

[Diane]

I'm an Architect, and while I would say be open to your Architect, also go with your gut. If you don't love this, then it won't work for you long term. And it's SO much easier to make changes at conceptual design stage. Maybe have them do a few "back of the envelope" sketches of a few alternate options with kitchen at the back? If nothing else that may quell the "what if" questions I seem to read between the lines of your post. If you still love the kitchen-at-front design you will have that validated, and if you like something else better you will know that too. I think in the end there is no "perfect" design and everything is collaborative, so I'm sure ither option would be fine, but you want to be sure you feel good about it in the end. A little sketch time now may defer regrets later.

I'll be there supporting you all the way once you get open - can't wait!

[Brett]

Lenn, thanks for showing your support. If you do ever come out here, be sure to bring some of the excellent Long Island wine I hear so much about.

Diane, thanks for your professional input. Don't worry. I explored every possible place to locate the kitchen with my previous architect - left side, right side, along the back. The only schemes that had real potential required expensive structural work and new foundations, a topic which I'll touch on in an upcoming post. Because those options had already been explored, my new architects decided to experiment with the kitchen in the front. Though not perfect, it really is the best and most cost effective layout for the space. Over time, I have grown to love it.

[Diane]

Brett: I'm glad you've taken time to fully explore all options - it sounds as if this will be wonderful!

[Garrett]

Ooh! I am so excited for you!