It Felt Too Fancy for Me ... And Then It Didn't

After hiring someone to cook in my home, I started to feel like a Downton Abbey wannabe. But dinner went off splendidly, and nobody rolled their eyes and called me “m’lady.”

Greetings! First of all, I wanted to mention that I was on this week’s episode of The Splendid Table. Host Francis Lam had some wonderfully insightful questions to ask about my memoir, “Love Is My Favorite Flavor.” Find the episode, here.

Now, onto today’s post.

It’s Not As La-Di-Da As You’d Think

Alyssa Burgett and her lovely salad creation.

In May, I hired The Food Life of Zach and Cody to cook for a birthday-palooza: 20 guests, multiple birthdays, a big, beautiful cake, all in a large party room of a friend’s condo building. It was my first time hiring private chefs, but because it wasn’t in my home, it felt no more pretentious than calling a caterer.

But last week, I hired Alyssa Burgett (at Nomad Plate) to cook for a very small dinner party in my actual home. As in, my kitchen. I had zero concerns about the food—but I did wonder about the optics. Would we come off like Downton Abbey wannabes, casually having someone roast meat a few feet from the guests while we sipped gin and tonics in the living room? Now, where did I put my tiara and elbow-length gloves?

All afternoon, I was feeling kind of ridiculous. I can, after all, cook.

But then, in walked Burgett, as cheerful as could be. There was nothing stiff or dutiful about the vibe; rather, she exuded an easygoing, surefooted joy, if she couldn’t wait to get cooking and was going to enjoy every minute of it.

That vibe lifted everything—and the food sent the evening soaring.

Sure, you can find all kinds of chefs and caterers and food pros touting their wares on the Internet. But who else actually gives them a try, pays full price, and reports back? If you value this kind of food writing, please help support it! Subscribe today.

A Little Background

Burgett operates Nomad Plate, a private chef business. Services include catering and meal-prep services, and she’ll also do private cheffing in your home. I got the recommendation through Jackie Servellon, who had made a splendid cake for that birthday party. I knew someone as talented as Servellon wasn’t going to put her good name behind an amateur.

Burgett graduated from the Iowa Culinary Institute and has worked in the kitchens of HoQ and Oak Park, where she was a line cook and later a prep cook. Upon leaving Oak Park to launch her own business, Burgett counted Oak Park owner Kathy Fehrman as her first client. “She still continues to support me and get food from me every week,” says Burgett.

That’s high praise for this young cook—and quiet credit should also go to Fehrman. Not every restaurateur would hire a former staffer striking out on their own.

When I contacted Burgett, I mentioned I wanted a main-dish salad platter, like the ones I’d featured last summer. (These are all inspired by Iowa-born French-food cookbook author Richard Olney, btw). I told her I would not micromanage, but that I did have two stipulations. It could not be a salade Niçoise (the inevitable salad platter), and I did not want to see a drizzle of balsamic vinegar on anything. (Please. Unless you live in Parma—or have a bona-fide DOP barrel in your basement—let’s retire the squiggle.)

Alyssa was “all in” and soon wrote back with three options. Each sounded wonderfully fresh and original, but I landed on the Shaved Asparagus Salad with Couscous, Mint, Pickled Radish and Moroccan Spiced Pork Loin.

While I could have requested she make appetizers and dessert, my friend had offered to bring the former, and I wanted to do something fresh and simple with local strawberries for the latter. It was having Burgett cook a main dish that excited me most. I wanted to simply put a gorgeous platter in the center of the table and have everyone help themselves. It went off splendidly.

The Salad

My dining style all summer long: Setting salad platters in the middle of the table and letting everyone help themselves. I had her arrange this platter for four, but she actually cooked for six (holding back the leftovers in the kitchen for the next day).

Am I the only one who’s grown weary of the over-abundance of average lettuces in American salads? So often, it takes four forkfuls of lettuce to get a bite of anything interesting. How refreshing, then, to see thin tangles of shaved asparagus and fresh mint leaves take the place of the usual heft. Pickled radishes, slivered turnips, chopped asparagus, feta, toasted almonds, and pistachios made for a dashing mix—each gratifying bite a little different from the last.

I often (mistakenly) think a salad is under-dressed if it doesn’t glisten, and I worried this one might come off dry. But no: there was plenty of the tart-sweet vinaigrette—bright with pickled lemon and pomegranate, sweet and deep with a hint of molasses—to pull it all together.

The rosy-pink pork loin, rimmed in intriguing Middle-Eastern spices, offered this lovely trick: each bite offered a first flush of warm, gently fiery flavor that gave way to rich, silky depth. Also on the platter: a modest bed of couscous for a touch of heartiness without dulling the dish.

She presented the salad and answered a few questions; then, she quickly tidied the kitchen, and cheerfully bid us goodbye while we gratefully enjoyed her creation.

So. How Much Did All This Cost? Did I Tip?

She charged for ingredients, plus $40 an hour for time. The fee broke out as follows:
Labor: $100.00
Groceries: $ 51.12
Tax: $ 10.57
=======
TOTAL $161.69

I thought this was an exceedingly good value. She cooked for six—and imagine what six similarly beautiful main dishes would have cost had we dined in a restaurant, especially if you consider how much you’d spend on the wine markups these days.

As for tipping: Technically, you don’t need to tip someone who owns their own business—they can set prices to reflect their worth. She requested no gratuity on her invoice. But Burgett exceeded expectations and kept things remarkably affordable.

After a little digging, I found that in cases like this, a flat banknote (not a percentage) is the norm. I added $50—not out of some Countess Grantham largesse, but because her prices were so reasonable, it felt right. If she’d charged $75 an hour, I wouldn’t have blinked—and I wouldn’t have tipped.

Want More Salad Platter Ideas?

Summer salad platters--all season long.

I’m all about salad platters, all summer long. If you want more, subscribe to my other (more worldly) newsletter, On Food and France (which is really more about food than France). I’ll send out free newsletters every other week, and they’ll often have some of my favorite salad platters. Check out a recent story I wrote about the inspiration behind my summery platters.

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