So you’re the chef at the new Avila restaurant in Wallingford. How would you describe the food here?
We’re trying to build dishes around what farmers are growing, so we go to a lot of farmers markets, see what’s freshest out there, and roll with it. We always intended the dishes to be very off-the-cuff, but what ties them all together is Northwest cuisine.
What do you talk about when you’re in the kitchen?
Sex, drugs, and bodily functions. Generally speaking, chefs have a dry sense of humor in addition to being fairly rude. We also have a masochistic streak—we like to take on too much, and fail.
Did the process of becoming a chef feel masochistic?
No, it felt rebellious. My mom liked to create dishes like marshmallow salad with coconut and pineapple. Going to culinary school was a way of rebelling against my family and their cooking.
Are chefs the same in every state?
Oh yeah, we’re all the same. Chefs in New York have a lot more attitude, but not a lot to back it up. There’s a lot more competition in New York, and you’d think it would create an environment with the most amazing food ever, but there are just as many bullshitters there as everywhere else. Chefs who aren’t in New York have an inferiority complex, and it makes them better at their jobs.
If overcast makes me crave tea and crumpets, what would you recommend for this drizzly shit?
Lots of sweet, rich things—apples, potatoes, turnips. Spring is the time when you pick any ingredient and it’s spectacular, and you do something funny and lighthearted with it. Whereas now we just want soup, bread, and sour cream.