Chez TJ opens the kitchen Chez TJ opens the kitchen (April 23, 2004)

New chef Joshua Skenes shares his secrets

An occasional series of cooking articles from Voice reporter and beginner chef Julie O'Shea

Word on the street is that Joshua Skenes has been creating quite a stir over at Chez TJ.

Since landing the coveted position of executive chef in January, Skenes -- armed with a new menu and cooking secrets from some of the best in the business -- has been credited with bringing back a bit of the spice the upscale French restaurant lost during the recession. Apparently, Cehz TJ made a wise decision. According to at least a few loyal patrons, everything this East Coast native touches turns to gold.

I was sent in to investigate.

Earlier this month, the restaurant offered a cooking demonstration and tasting session with its new prodigy. Despite being an embarrassingly finicky eater (I turn my nose at anything too lumpy, squishy or unpronounceable), I was accepted into the class.

Honestly, this assignment couldn't have come at a better time. After a recent journey into the bland world of homemade sack lunches, I was in desperate need of a little tender loving care.

The thought of a getting a few pointers on seasoning techniques from a well-seasoned kitchen professional turned me into a faux, slightly obnoxious food connoisseur. And for a week, I acted as if I actually knew the intricacies of French cuisine when, in reality, sun-dried tomato tortellini is about as foreign as my cooking gets these days.

Still, I bragged to anyone within hearing distance about my impending appointment with Chez TJ. My co-workers smiled politely. My friends showed the right amount of envy.

But then my mother went and spoiled the fun. "Try and learn something, this time," she told me over the phone the night before the class. After months of cooking lessons, good old Mom pointed out the obvious in a single sentence.

Needless to say, when I arrived at Chez TJ's the next morning, I was nervous. Taking a seat at one of the tables in the restaurant's back dining room, my anxieties grew when I realized I was surrounded by people who probably already knew the correct way to hold a knife. I prayed no one would find out I was a novice. While my six classmates bantered happily about cooking ingredients and kitchen appliances, I occasionally cut into the conversation with irrelevant comments about the room's cozy layout and well-chosen wallpaper.

As it turned out, I worked myself into a knot for nothing. Although the day had been marketed as a "spring cooking class," restaurant owner George Aviet explained that, due to liability issues, we'd just be watching Chef Skenes whip up a four-course meal for us that day.

Hallelujah!

After a short introduction, Aviet led us into the restaurant's immaculate kitchen where we were greeted by a tall, clean-cut guy in a blue apron. His white-collared shirt had "Joshua Skenes" printed on it in big, block letters. My mouth dropped -- I couldn't believe this fresh-faced young man with the nice smile was the Joshua Skenes.

"He looks like he's 16," I hissed to the woman next to me, who chuckled softly.

Indeed, he is young (Skenes would tell me later that he's actually 24), but his looks belie his talent and passion.

Skenes graduated with perfect scores from New York City's renowned French Culinary Institute and studied under such names as Jean Georges Vongerichten, Scott Herbert and Anthony Ambrose.

But it wasn't his credentials that impressed me the most. Rather, it was his astonishing ability to get me to eat lumpy, bumpy food without a gag reflex. More importantly, I, along with everyone else, hungrily sopped up his cauliflower soup with the table bread. Truly, I think, this is the best compliment a chef could ever hope to receive.

It's worth noting that the soup was sprinkled with tangerine dust (finely grated peel), truffle oil and hazelnuts, which left my head spinning as a chorus of "Mmmms" filled the room. Because I don't have the skill of a finely trained food critic, I turned to my dining companions for some adjectives about the first course. "Delicate," "light," "very aromatic," they chimed.

I don't know why I was so surprised that I actually liked the food; after all, Skenes has keen precision, an impressive knack for mixing ingredients and an expansive knife set. How could he possibly fail to astound my highly inexperienced palette?

The second course was called "Wild Pacific Salmon with Muscat Grapes and Verjus Glaze." Such a fancy name.

I think I might even try this one on my own someday. It hasn't happened yet, but the recipe is tacked to my refrigerator, and a salmon steak my dad gave me in November sits in the freezer, just waiting to be basted with the fresh thyme, spring cipollini onions and butter, as the Skenes recipe demands.

Albeit, the fish I have is not exactly the fresh wild salmon Skenes picked up at the fish market at 6 a.m. that day, but nonetheless, I'm hopeful the flames from my stove will get rid of any nasty freezer burn.

The only thing I was unclear about was the verjus glaze. I had never heard of it before, and if I hadn't read through the recipe, I would simply have pegged it as just another artsy purplish garnish that made my food look like a Picasso painting. But there is more to verjus than mere decoration. A word to aspiring chefs -- buy a blender. You apparently can grind most things into a delicious paste. Who knew?

The only blip in my day with Skenes came midway through the lesson when he handed me a fig and told me to eat it. To put it plainly: I absolutely, positively cannot stand figs. Yet as I stood there with fig in hand and the entire class looking at me, I succumbed to peer pressure and quickly popped it into my mouth. It was a horrible sensation, one that was not easily remedied by the strawberry sorbet and coconut milk that followed the quail/fig entree.

But it's hard to stay mad when there's a bowl of sorbet in front of you. By the time I finished dessert, the fig was but a distant memory.

Information

Chez TJ is located at 938 Villa St. The restaurant is open for dinner Tuesdays through Thursdays from 5:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. and Fridays and Saturdays from 5:30 p.m. to 10 p.m.
Call 964-7466 for reservations.

Restaurant owner George Aviet said he plans to host additional weekend cooking demonstrations later this year.

E-mail Julie O'Shea at joshea@mv-voice.com

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