texasmesquite

Making the meal a feast for the eyes

When the food is the star, it gets a stylist


Celebrity chefs (above, from left) Rick Bayless, Ruth Reichl, Ming Tsai, and Lidia Bastianich on the ''Moveable Feast'' set. The writer, a food stylist, is below right, with chef Jose Andres. (Photos by Andy Ryan) By Denise Drower Swidey

Boston Globe Correspondent / March 25, 2009
MILFORD - In a kitchen showroom serving as a makeshift TV studio, the production team is itching to get the progressive dinner party started. Meanwhile, off the set, Lidia Bastianich is garnishing her pasta dish, which we prepped for her earlier, and Rick Bayless is talking us through his enchiladas. Four salt-encased pork loins are about to go into the oven in staggered intervals for an entree Jose Andres is making, but a final equipment check reveals that only two of the in-oven meat thermometers are calibrated correctly. We have to get going on Christopher Kimball's skillet apple pie so that it is slightly cooled - but not cold - when it's time for him to serve it. And we've got to nail all this before the production crew breaks for lunch. Later, we'll be tackling Ming Tsai's Cocktails and Ruth Reichl's appetizers.

As a food stylist and TV culinary producer, I'm used to behind-the-scenes pressures in the kitchen. But this show is different, since my small crew of four is prepping for six celebrities at once. They all know of each other - Bastianich, the Italian food matriarch; Bayless of Topolobampo fame (the Obamas frequent his Chicago restaurant); Blue Ginger's Tsai; Cook's Illustrated's Kimball; Andres, the Washington-based Spanish chef; and Gourmet magazine's Reichl - but this is the first time they'd all be sharing a kitchen set. We're taping the final scene of "A Moveable Feast With America's Favorite Chefs," a public television special that aired earlier this month.
I seem to have a job that elicits the same question from lots of people: What is a food stylist? Stylists make food look great on camera. If we're working with food photographers, the food we make goes onto a printed page. For a TV show, we produce most of the ingredients a chef needs to create a dish. And it's the stylist who often makes the "beauty" or "hero" - the stunning finished item the camera zooms in on at the end. It's a job with the same stress factor of a restaurant line cook, but in a different way. Hungry customers aren't waiting for what we create. But the camera is. The food has to look great and be on time. And since the chef often samples it on camera, it has to be real food that tastes great too. So the tricks that print stylists sometimes use for magazine and cookbook photos (like painting poultry with Kitchen Bouquet for that golden finish) are off-limits to us.
While my studies at the Culinary Institute of America and work in Boston restaurants taught me volumes about food, it was my internship a decade ago at the Food Network that first showed me how challenging and varied this side of professional cooking could be. One day you might be de-veining foie gras or mincing mountains of garlic cloves, the next, you're forming perfect pot stickers - dozens of them. Food styling for TV would be easier if I knew exactly when a dish is needed. Every item must be freshly made, since the close-up lens forgives nothing. The prep kitchen is isolated from the set and control room, so we all stay connected through headsets. A typical day is 10 to 12 hours.
The best perk of the job is the steady supply of delicious food, and what I get to learn as I go. Reichl's simple but incredible grilled-cheese sandwiches are a standout for their big flavors. Bayless's Cafe Tacuba-style creamy enchiladas have a versatile and extraordinary poblano chili and spinach sauce. Not knowing exactly when the cameras are ready for the enchiladas, and faced with a 20-minute cooking time, we take Bayless's suggestion and super-heat all the components of the dish as well as the plates. Then, assembly-line-style, we (including Bayless) form and plate two enchiladas per plate, top them with sauce and cheese, and "brulee" them with a propane blow torch. That way, all the chefs can savor the hot food on camera and we're not holding up production. The unusual demands of cooking for TV often promote that kind of quick thinking outside the box (or oven).
The other question I get all the time: Where does the extra food go? Extra raw ingredients are often donated to a food pantry if they are in acceptable condition. The crew eats most of the cooked food, but only after a segment wraps (they really do say, "That's a wrap!") and we're sure we don't need to shoot a retake. We clean up our temporary kitchen, pack the many crates of our own utensils - the only way to guarantee that you'll have precisely the right equipment is to bring your own - and then hobble home to bed.
Denise Drower Swidey is a food stylist and culinary producer for public television shows, including "Simply Ming."