I Had Lunch at the CIA

Ever since reading Michael Ruhlman’s The Making of a Chef in 2007, I’ve wanted to have a meal at the CIA. No, not that CIA, although I hear they do have a half-decent cafeteria. This CIA is the Culinary Institute of America, one of the world’s finest cooking schools, located in Hyde Park, NY.

Long term readers of this blog may recall that it was Ruhlman’s tales of life at the CIA that led me to my first food blog – Butter Pig – whose author Tom Dowdy had written a diary of his own 3 months at the school. Blown away by what I had discovered, I bought the CIA textbook The Professional Chef, got myself some good knives, read some Harold McGee and began to cook more. Tom’s writing led me to other food blogs, including the Julie/Julia Project, and suffice it to say, life hasn’t been the same since.

This week, my foodie little brother and his wife invited me to join them on their vacation in the Hudson Valley. I knew immediately where we had to go. Hyde Park and the CIA. The only thing available when we made our last minute call for reservations was an early seating for lunch mid week. We took it!

The CIA is one stunning campus. Timeless, ivy-covered brick buildings (one sporting a figurehead of Paul Bocuse, the hero of French nouvelle cuisine), orderly gardens and stunning views of the Hudson River hills, which were still lusciously verdant on the gorgeous late summer day we visited. Chefs and wanna-be chefs dotted the campus in their chef’s hats and whites, walking with purpose or talking to one another animatedly. There is no lounging on the quad on this campus….

The main building houses the CIA’s restaurants, bookstore and classrooms, which we brazenly spied upon through glass windows along a corridor named for Anthony Bourdain.

It also houses the school’s cafeteria, where seeing the rows of students and faculty in the high arched ceiling room led Rachel to proclaim it to be “Hogwarts with chef’s hats”.

I myself was drawn to the pastry kitchens, and it was all I could do to stop myself from wandering inside to sit in on a class.

Our lunch was at The Bocuse Restaurant, a beautifully appointed space with modern architecture, a window into the kitchen, and really great chairs. (I need to find out where to get those chairs…)

Like all CIA’s restaurants, Bocuse is student and faculty run and staffed, and priced accordingly. This makes for an amazing if somewhat uneven food experience. For instance, the french rolls were fabulous – the pale yet crisp crust retained the smoky flavor of the oven and the crumb was light and soft. The duck with pomegranate reduction was proclaimed by Joe to be the most perfectly-cooked he’d ever eaten,

the heirloom tomato salad with whipped feta had the most delicious pickled onion I’d ever tasted,

the just-right cooked egg atop the fresh cappelini first course wiggled delightfully,

and the salmon was perfectly cooked with an amazingly crisp skin and a Meyer Lemon-Caviar Beurre Nantais to die for.

But the blini served with the smoked salmon first course were nothing special (I was dying for a crisp potato pancake), and the dry, flavorless risotto should never have been allowed to leave the kitchen (we left most of it uneaten).

The desserts however, were perfection.

I have to say, I was almost expecting someone to ask me to grade the service provided by the earnest, hard working students who waited on us. After all, I had quite a few suggestions I wanted to share with them. For instance, I’d say, learn a little more about the items on the menu so you don’t have to keep going back to the kitchen to answer our questions. Seeing our empty glasses, offer us another glass of wine before the main course. Ask us if we want coffee with our dessert. Wipe up those crumbs and that bit of cream sauce on my place mat between courses. And never sweep in to grab my plate while I’m still wiping up the Meyer Lemon-Caviar Beurre Nantais with my bread, although I did like the little “Pardon my reach” you said when doing so…

The experience made me consider why we never asked our patients for feedback on our medical students and residents during their training. After all, who better to tell us what we’re doing right or wrong?

But I am really not complaining. I’m lovingly critiquing.

Because if you ask me if I’d go back to eat at the CIA again, the answer would be a resounding yes. Again. And again.

It was such a privilege to be a part of these young folk’s training and to witness their energy, determination and drive to be among the best-trained chefs in the world.

Life in a restaurant kitchen is not easy, and for many, it is not a well-compensated profession. This can make it hard to justify the expense of a high-end culinary school like the CIA. David Lebowitz has a good summary of the pros and cons of a professional culinary education in his post Should You Go to Culinary School? and renowned pastry chef Shuna Lydon lays out a strong case against culinary school education in her blog Eggbeater –

I didn’t go to culinary school, I did not own a single knife, I did not know what an ‘all-day’ was. I learned everything on the job. And so can you. Or you can go to school. Or take all that money you would sign over to a school, put it in the bank, and go work for someone whose food you love for free and live on that bank account.

The Covid Pandemic made it apparent that food industry workers are essential workers, and deserve to be compensated as such. This in turn has strengthened the movement to unionize the industry and get folks paid the wages they deserve. I for one hope the union movement continues to garner strength. And I hope the CIA is preparing their graduates well to succeed in this challenging calling.

I wish them all the very best.