Rum Diary: Puerto Rico's Future Chefs

By JULIETTE ROSSANT I had already visited Las Vegas; had I been to San Juan before? A gonzo quality seemed to quickly overtake my journey there, a descent into Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas -- via San Juan: We were somewhere around Bayamon heading away from the beach when the Food craving began to take hold. I remember saying something like 'I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive...' except that I wasn't behind the wheel. And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us... [paraphrase] After all, Hunter S. Thompson, who had tried to write for The San Juan Star more than four decades before but wrote Rum Diary instead, had just died the day before I arrived in Puerto Rico. I had been invited to speak at the 2005 Future Chefs Convention (don't bother to visit the site yet, because the 2005 version is not yet uplinked -- more at El Vocero). My car arrived at the Coliseo Roberto Clemente in San Juan's bustling Hato Rey district. I was scooted toward a backdoor through an alley of refuse that no Foodie should ever be allowed to sniff and then into the colisseum's main exhibition hall, filled with aisles of food and equipment booths all surrounding a raised stage. It was all getting just a bit too Third World: I'd been to similar expos in Central Asia. Where was Hunter S.? But, no, HST would not have understood this event, I fear, because he was his own center stage (and influential enough to merit obits ranging from MTV to Al-Jazeera). Instead, I found onstage Emeril protegee Jean Paul Labadie strumming a crowd of ladies, their very pretty daughters, and a barrage of culinary students. Labadie, chef de cuisine of Emeril's New Orleans Fish House in Las Vegas, is a local boy who done good. While Jean Paul directed, his sous chef Heath Cicerelli, a native Coloradan and bräumeister by training, was whipping up a lardon and foie gras salad with Angel David Moreno. Jean Paul took a plate of the salad out into the crowd, where he was warmly feted for far longer than the demonstration took. Meanwhile, down the aisles were samples of Puerto Rican grub. There was rum, other rum, and then more rum: straight up, in cocktails, with mango, with coffee. I probed deeper. At the stand for Cooperativa de Cunicultores Unidos de Puerto Rico (Cunicoop PR), a coney seller handed out chunks of rabbit to any takers: deep fried, crisp, greaseless, and salty -- bam! Now I was rocking: there are terrific ingredients to be found in Puerto Rico, from tropical fruit to sea food -- to rabbit. Soon after Jean Paul, I spoke to a crowd of eager chefs and chef-wannabees about Super Chef and their careers. Afterwards, in the crowd I found Yamira Ortiz, convention mastermind, organizing team, and micro-manager all in one. She is a failed restaurateur with a passion for the excellence of food which has led her to put on this one-man show for three years running. Thanks to her I met great chefs like Wilo Benet and Robert Trevino. This is an event with the purpose of raising the standards of Puerto Rico's cuisine. Some international standards of professionalism, experience, and know-how and -- bam! -- the Future Chefs Convention could be a top event within two years. So, I left Puerto Rico with my glass half full -- not like HST, who, so The Economist surmised after re-reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, was a bit suicidal. No, give me sunny Puerto Rico, any day! Previous articles: Superheroes de la gastronomia: Spanish Is Better Wilo Benet: Pikayo Perfecto Roberto Trevino: Viva Aguaviva --> back to superchefblog