Washington Street

In the late 80's I lived on Washington St. just north of Westport. It was a pleasant neighborhood with big old houses on the west side of the street and old brick apartment houses on the east side. Broadway was only one block away and I was within stumbling distance of all the Westport bars. The only blight in the neighborhood was a pair of suspected crack houses at the north end of block across the street from Felini's Safeway.

At the time I was chef at a high volume eatery in south Kansas City. My entire crew, save Rodney Morris, was Hispanic. Guillermo de la Cruz was my sous chef and he kept me supplied with willing workers. All in all I had a top notch crew.

There's always problems even within a good team. Rudolpho and Juana, his wife, liked to sniff cocaine, Rodney tippled at work, Chancho the pot washer was openly illegal and Roberto was a happy go lucky borracho who often had to sleep off a daytime drunk in the parking lot before reporting for duty.

One day as I was taking a walk I heard someone calling, "Jefe" from the top floor balcony of the dilapidated crack house. It was Roberto, he was drinking and dancing with a senorita at 10:30 in the morning. Most of my crew was in attendance and they all seemed very jolly. I waved my finger at them and pointed to my watch to remind them they all had to be at work at 4 o'clock. Kids.

Sunday brunch was the worst shift. The crew always showed but sometimes they were all still drunk from the night before. I'd make them sleep it off in the lot and race into the city to find '˜Heavy D' and some of the weekday crew of brothers to fill the gap. I'd bribe them with ten spots and the promise of free liquor at the end of the shift. At two o'clock I'd turn the kitchen over to the hung over Hispanics to close and clean and load up the station wagon with my rescue team and go to the liquor store. I'd buy a case of beer and a half pint for Rodney if he was in the car. Everybody felt good. About the rescue, the busy shift, the ride home, the cold beer and being a band of brothers.

If that seems trite, then let me add that I loved all these people. They worked hard, made my job easy and made me look good every day. Guillermo was always willing to give me an extra day off to go fishing, Rodney always stepped up when things got tough, my kitchen was efficient and clean, I was a happy man.

Rodney got busted with stolen goods (lots of them), Rudolpho and Juana got caught selling and their visas were cancel, INS picked up Chancho at work, Guillermo's wife threw him out for showing up at home with hickies on his chest.

It all worked out, it always does.

Guillermo used to bread his rellenos in egg white with flour, they were good. This is a reverse recipe. I've broken down Guillermo's recipe into something new. Run some fresh pork through the grinder or food processor. Lightly saute the pork until it loses all pink, mix in minced chilies ( I like serranos and one habenero), 1 T tomato paste, salt and pepper. Cool to room. Make a batter of egg white & corn starch 4 whites to 1 T starch. Shallow fry quickly 1 oz. batter on first side, add 1 T pork mix to center of pancake, then flip halves over to make an little crispy omelet. Serve with a salsa cruda and bites of good cheese. Muy bueno.