Feels like the first time

Art Culinaire, Winter, 2004 by Carol M. Newman

Maybe some Art Culinaire junkies affectionately recall our first five or so issues.

A young man holds a glass of champagne, just making his mark at Campton Place. Now his name is in a thousand lights in Las Vegas. His name is Bradley Ogden.

The city of Atlanta may have changed over the past fifteen years, but Mr. Seeger hasn't--he's right where we left him, stealthily making miracles behind the stove.

As for Mrs. Bastianich, or 'Lidia' as the world has come to know her, the question should be, "Where isn't she?"

Certainly not the newest talents in the food community, but three of the most recognized and well-respected. The commonality they share--their lasting contributions and enduring spirits.

LIDIA BASTIANICH & FORTUNATO NICOTRA

Felidia, New York, NY

"DON'T RECREATE, EXALT."

The florist had come to replace the weekly arrangement in the upstairs dining area. She hadn't quite finished her pruning but stepped away from her task--for just a moment.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Enter Lidia Bastianich holding a broom and all business. She shakes her head at the dead leaves on the floor and starts sweeping, "I tell my apprentices that you get far by doing everything."

There was something wrong with the sight of Mrs. Bastianich sweeping. It was uncomfortable, akin to royalty bagging groceries. It was hard not to refrain from asking, "Can I do that for you?" She is, after all, classified by her contemporaries as a dignitary. Admired by more than one generation of food lovers. And since her initial startup days at her first restaurant, Buonavia, in Queens, she's stayed true and consistent to the traditions of her native Istria. Those origins have played a leading role, adding dimension to her traditional Italian cooking. And at the Italian crossroads, Istria picks up some of Europe's other flavors, notably Roman, Slavic, and Germanic.

To this day, in Mrs. Bastianich's kitchen, traditional methods are the ones that reign, the most alive. On a recently aired PBS broadcast of Lidia's Italian Kitchen, she pours polenta on a round cutting board and cuts it with twine. This is no "show." In fact, Lidia's grandparents owned a trattoria in Istria. There, they grew most of the food they sold, produced their own olive oil and wine, distilled their own grappa, cured their own meats, and ground their own flour for bread and pasta. Indeed, Lidia Bastianich experienced food in its purest and most unadulterated form.

She's committed to teaching these methods--whether the vehicle is her PBS series, book ventures, public appearances or restaurants. We wondered how she manages to spend any time at her flagship, Felidia. The answer she offers is straightforward, just like her personality, "How does one get rid of their baby?" She grins at Fortunato Nicotra, her executive chef. But also tells us there are real babies who also take up her time now--her five grandkids.

Fortunato, affectionately known as "Toto" cares for the menu day-to-day. He says he came to Felidia (from Sicily) "for six months." He's been here nine years. Lidia says, "I won't let him go." Neither will Fortunato's wife, Shelly (who also works at Felidia as her public relations assistant). About Shelly, he says, "She was the first person I talked to in this country who spoke Italian."

Lidia is a natural mentor. And today it's an integral part of her empire. She's proud of Lara Brumgnach, the pastry chef she's nurtured for the past six months. "We have a teacher/student relationship. You have to foster someone or something to make it grow. This restaurant has my spirit but it has Fortunato's food and cooking."

"We try to create something here that hasn't been done before. We treat it like building blocks. We respect the food. We talk about it and then make it happen."

She's very much involved in our photo shoot, offering to hold the fill card for the photographer, carefully so her "beautiful Amarene cherries shimmer in the light." She explains, "I want the cake to be a surprise. You know what I mean? Most cakes when they sit on a plate, you can look all the way inside. But I want the photo to only peer inside so you just get a glimpse." She has a very specific purpose hovering over this dessert, and has reminded me, in her very unique way, the special wonder a cake inspires.

By the end of the day, her distinguishable motherly figure is comforting. She's eased our initial moments of anxiety--of wanting to take away the broom, and pull up a chair for her while we sweep the floor. But we realize, she didn't get this far by giving up anything.

BRADLEY OGDEN

Bradley Ogden, Las Vegas NV

"WHO PUT SUGAR PACKETS IN THE SUGAR BOWLS?!"

"Hi Bradley, I was hoping to narrow down the dates for the shoot. You got the fax I sent over right? Any time that looks particularly good?"

"Yep, uh huh, sweetie. Got it right here. Let me just look at the calendar. The week after the 21st is ... excuse me just a minute will you, dear?"

His hand cups the receiver, but the words are still audible: