Cafe Culinaire: Party in the Front, Lesson in the Rear

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WHEN THE most difficult decision you have to make during the course of the day is whether to order the Thai Dungeness crab cakes or the hazelnut-crusted Samish Bay oysters as an appetizer, you know you’ve got it good.

Recently, a coworker and I—who have stepped out for something to nosh on during the course of our workdays on so many occasions we’ve now officially become “ladies who lunch”—left the office on a blustery spring day for a repast at the Bellingham Technical College’s Cafe Culinaire.

As we passed nondescript building after nondescript building, each labeled with a different letter of the alphabet, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Eventually we came to the letter “G” and walked through the door. To the right was a bustling cafeteria full of earnest young students. To the left, a hostess stood at the ready, waiting to guide us down a mirrored hallway to our table for two.

Candles were lit. Flowers in small vases dotted ledges. Intricately folded linen napkins uncovered small, hand-folded cranes (or were they swans?). Silverware gleamed in the muted light. Servers stood at attention. Did we want lemon in our water glasses? Yes, we did. Would we care for coffee or soda or a house-made beverage? Not at this moment, thank you very much. Did we need more time to come to a decision? Just a few minutes, please.

While we perused the Pan-Asian Northwest menu, I realized the fully operational restaurant, which is intended to school culinary students on the ins and outs of working at, or running, an eatery of their own, isn’t just paying lip service to what it takes to make a good meal. From the first sip of water to the final bite of dessert, we were treated to, as my lunch partner pointed out, “an embarrassment of riches.”

First, decisions had to be made. The crab cakes ($5.95) won out over the oysters ($4.25), while my “date” chose the special of the day, a shitake/goat cheese strudel, as her starter. We could’ve opted for a smoked duck and orange salad ($5.25) or Palouse lentil ragout ($4.95), but alas, they’d have to wait for another day. For our main dishes, I went for the caramelized five-spiced duck breast with dried cherry jus lie ($12.95), while the lady across the table chose Korean braised Osso Buco ($11.95), otherwise known as veal. For dessert ($3.25), I selected the ginger sour cream cake served with carrot cake ice cream and she requested a trio of sorbets—mango, mixed berry and champagne rose.

For those who’ve ever dined at an upscale eatery, you’re likely aware by this point that the prices for these menu items is well below what you’d pay in a “real” fancy restaurant. And, as we’d chosen the $16.95 three-course tasting menu—which included a choice of appetizer, any entrée and dessert—the deal was even more screaming.

The real test, of course, was in the eating. I’m happy to report that my crab cakes, served with lemongrass aioli and citrus slaw, were savory and succulent without being overbearing. I finished every bite (and almost bit into our waiter when he tried to take the plate away when our entrees came). My duck was delish, but the melt-in-yourmouth veal I sampled from my tablemate’s plate made me wish I’d chosen that instead.

After we’d paid our bills—which came to about $22 per person, with tip—we were given a short tour of the large kitchen. A bustling crew in tall white hats were armed with knives, spoons, mixers and other tools of the trade. Even through the restaurant had emptied, everybody seemed to be incredibly busy. Then I remembered: this was their classroom, and they were in school.

Hilde Hetteger-Kormi, one of the instructors on duty that day, told us the students who’d served us in the restaurant were also chefs in training. Because they want the two-year program to produce well-rounded graduates, each student must spend time learning not only how to cook, but also how to run each and every section of the restaurant.

“Every chef needs to know the service part,” she explained. “If you don’t know how to run service, you lose it.”

Because Cafe Culinaire operates on a quarterly basis, only a few weeks remain to experience fine dining on a dime. Reservations are recommended, so plan ahead if you can.

“I would eat here again,” my coworker noted at one point during our leisurely meal. As a lady who lunches, I know I’ll be back someday, too.