A Chef's Reflection: From Bernard's Inn to Michelin Stars
My birthday recently passed, and part of my celebration included dinner at Clover Hill in Brooklyn. This was particularly exciting because, although I've worked and dined at many exceptional establishments throughout my career, this marked my first time experiencing a restaurant with an active Michelin star. The anticipation for this dinner had been building since I made the reservation. As the date approached, I found myself describing my excitement to someone who has never experienced a tasting menu, it brought me back to that pivotal moment in my culinary journey of my first tasting menu.
The Invitation to Understand
Working at Bernard's Inn was transformative in my development as a chef. It wasn't just another kitchen job – it was where I first truly understood food as an art form rather than merely a profession.
The kitchen operated under the traditional French Brigade system, with Chef Corey Heyer at the helm as Executive Chef and Craig Polignano (under whom I had done my externship at the Ryland Inn) serving as Chef de Cuisine. The environment was intense, to put it mildly. Craig ran a tight ship with what could only be described as "tough love." I remember watching my fellow garde manger cook (Spencer) get reamed out regularly for something as seemingly trivial as uneven bread slices for the bar menu burger. If that bread wasn't cut in perfectly straight lines, Craig would throw it away and demand a redo, yelling if you can’t cut a piece of bread evenly, you wasted your money on culinary school.
I, too, struggled with keeping up with our responsibilities. Typical of most places with a tasting menu, the garde manger station dishes were simpler individually, but there were far more dishes to manage simultaneously. From amuse-bouche to intermezzo, and everything in between—soups, salads, cheese plates—the volume was relentless. But I kept my head down and just worked as I was no stranger to tough love and had used my resilience to persevere to that point. Because I was eager to advance beyond garde manger, and the fish station fascinated me – it seemed the most creative of all the positions. While the meat station was primarily "steak and potatoes" with the challenge being proper cooking temperatures (something I felt I had already mastered), the fish station offered more complex manipulations of both proteins and vegetables. The plates were more intricate, the techniques more varied, from sous vide preparations to elaborate garnishes.
Chef Corey and Craig wanted me to thrive, not just survive. I was still viewing cooking as a technical skill rather than an expression of something deeper I just wasn’t making the connection. It's pointless to do something well if you don't know why you're doing it when you know that changed everything.
"I think you need to come eat," Chef said to me one day.
I didn't understand what he meant at first. "I don't have two or three hundred dollars to spend on a meal," I responded, thinking You know what you pay me and of my young family at home! "I'm just trying to do the best job I can to make money."
But he insisted: "I really think you should come and eat."
That invitation – and the three hour dining experience that followed opened my eyes. It was the first time I'd ever experienced a tasting menu as a diner rather than as the one preparing the food. The lightbulb finally switched on I was now moving with a new purpose from the greater understanding of the experience we're providing the guest.
The Tasting Menu Philosophy
My recent dinner at Clover Hill reignited these memories of my first tasting menu experience. There's something profoundly different about a tasting menu compared to other dining experiences. You're essentially saying, "I trust this chef" or "I trust this restaurant" based on recommendations, reviews, or accolades like Michelin stars.
You pay in advance, sometimes months ahead depending on the reservation timeline. You communicate any dietary restrictions or allergies. And then, remarkably, all decision-making is removed from the equation. You simply sit back, relax, and completely surrender to the journey the chef has designed.
This surrender creates a unique form of freedom for both diner and chef. The diner can focus entirely on the food and their companions without the distraction of menu decisions. The chef can express their complete vision – whether focusing on a particular ingredient, region, season, or personal narrative.
There's been a resurgence of tasting menus recently, particularly in pop-ups and supper clubs. All of these are different expressions of the same fundamental idea: "Come to my table, sit down, and enjoy. I've got this. You don't have to contribute anything or decide anything. All you have to do is enjoy the food and the company."
The Dish That Defined My Approach
After experiencing dining from the other side at Bernard's Inn, I began looking deeper into everything being more intentional my food from ingredients to plating, even paying more attention to the tools of the craft.
Craig had a large mechanic's toolbox in the office where he stored not just his knives but all the specific tools that weren't daily use items – ring molds, specialized cutters, and various implements that helped bring his vision to life. I began to see that the expression of culinary art required not just technique and creativity but the right instruments.
Because they allowed me to use my camera to document different dishes/ menu changes. I have hundreds of pictures and vivid memories of many dishes. But one particular dish from Bernard's Inn has , constantly resurfacing in my mind and influencing my approach to cooking. It was a late spring/early summer dish: butter sous-vide lobster with ricotta gnocchi, carrots, and peas.
On paper, the description sounds simple, perhaps even ordinary. But the execution and presentation transformed these humble ingredients into something profound. We used a long rectangular plate for linear plating – novel to me at the time. We would smear a vibrant pea purée down the plate, then arrange the gnocchi, carrots, and peas alongside it. The carrots weren't simply diced; they were balled with a small melon baller to match the exact size of the peas – a small detail that required significant extra effort but created visual harmony.
The butter-poached lobster crowned this bed of gnocchi and vegetables, garnished with dehydrated carrot twills, carrot chips, and delicate pea shoots.
What struck me most about this dish – what has stayed with me in the decades since – was the realization that despite lobster being the presumed star, the true focus was the humble peas and carrots. They appeared in multiple forms throughout the plate: whole, puréed, as garnish, as chips. Those simple spring vegetables were elevated and celebrated in various preparations and textures.
A Philosophy of Presentation
This approach became fundamental to my culinary philosophy: when I design a dish highlighting a particular ingredient, I try to implement it in as many different ways on the plate. The star ingredient might appear as a purée, a chip, a foam, or in its natural state – giving diners the opportunity to experience it from multiple angles in a single dish.
This creates a more layered experience. The diner might take a bite with all elements together, or try the chip by itself, or smear the purée, or dip components into a foam. These interactions create a conversation between chef and diner about the versatility and character of the ingredient.
While a tasting menu tells a broad story from start to finish, individual plates can tell their own concentrated stories. Presenting a seasonal ingredient in multiple forms speaks to its peak freshness while showcasing its versatility – all the different ways it can be used and enjoyed.
Coming Full Circle
My dinner at Clover Hill and the memories it evoked have inspired me to revisit this formative dish that has so influenced my approach to cooking.
Photography has become an increasingly important part of my culinary expression, so I'm eager to see how my food photography skills have evolved since those early days at Bernard's Inn. How much better can I capture this dish now, in 2025?
This recreation will be my tribute to the chefs who shaped me – who saw potential in a young cook focused more on paychecks than art, who insisted I needed to experience food from the other side of the pass, who taught me that the humblest ingredients can be the true stars when presented with thought and intention.
Sometimes the most important culinary lessons come not from technique or recipes, but from a simple invitation: "I think you need to come eat."
Butter-Poached Lobster with Ricotta Gnocchi, Spring Peas & Carrots
This dish represents the perfect marriage of luxury and simplicity – showcasing spring vegetables alongside delicate lobster. The multiple preparations of peas and carrots demonstrate how a humble ingredient can become the true star of a fine dining plate.
Ingredients
Serves 4
For the Lobster
2 whole live lobsters (1.5 lbs each)
1 lb unsalted butter
2 sprigs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tsp kosher salt
For the Ricotta Gnocchi
16 oz fresh ricotta, drained overnight in a cheesecloth
1 large egg
¼ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
½ tsp kosher salt
⅛ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
¾-1 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
For the Pea Purée
2 cups fresh English peas (or frozen petit pois)
2 tbsp unsalted butter
¼ cup vegetable stock
1 tsp kosher salt
2 tbsp heavy cream
For the Vegetable Garnish
½ cup fresh English peas
3-4 medium carrots
1 tbsp unsalted butter
Salt to taste
1 tbsp chopped chives
For the Carrot Tuiles
2 large carrots
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt to taste
For the Ricotta Foam
½ cup ricotta whey (reserved from draining)
¼ cup heavy cream
1 tbsp unsalted butter
Salt to taste
1 soy lecithin powder (optional, for stability)
For Garnish
1 package fresh pea shoots
Fleur de sel
Extra virgin olive oil
Equipment
Sous vide setup (immersion circulator)
Vacuum sealer or zip-top bags
Small melon baller
Food processor or blender
Fine mesh strainer
Dehydrator or low-temperature oven
Handheld immersion blender
Mandoline (for carrot tuiles)
Method
Prepare the Lobster (Day Before or Morning Of)
Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to a rolling boil.
Place lobsters in the boiling water and cook for exactly 2 minutes (this is just to make shell removal easier).
Transfer lobsters immediately to an ice bath to stop cooking.
When cool enough to handle, carefully remove the meat from the tail, claws, and knuckles. Reserve shells for stock if desired.
Vacuum seal lobster pieces with 4 tablespoons butter, thyme, and a pinch of salt.
Refrigerate until ready to sous vide.
Make Carrot Tuiles (Day Before)
Preheat dehydrator to 130°F (55°C) or oven to its lowest setting (around 170°F/75°C).
Using a mandoline, slice carrots paper-thin lengthwise.
Toss carrot slices with olive oil and salt.
Arrange on dehydrator trays or a parchment-lined baking sheet.
Dehydrate for 3-4 hours until completely crisp but not browned.
Store in an airtight container with silica gel packets until ready to use.
Prepare Ricotta Gnocchi
In a large bowl, combine drained ricotta, egg, Parmigiano-Reggiano, salt, and nutmeg.
Gradually add flour, mixing gently until a soft dough forms. Avoid overmixing.
Dust work surface with flour. Roll dough into 1/2-inch thick ropes.
Cut into 1-inch pieces. Optional: Roll each piece on a gnocchi board or fork tines for ridges.
Place gnocchi on a floured baking sheet. Refrigerate until ready to cook.
Prepare Pea Purée
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Prepare an ice bath.
Blanch peas for 2 minutes, then transfer to ice bath.
Drain peas well, then transfer to a blender.
Add butter and vegetable stock. Blend until very smooth.
Pass through a fine-mesh strainer.
Finish with heavy cream, salt to taste. Keep warm.
Prepare Vegetable Garnish
Using a small melon baller, create little spheres from carrots.
Blanch carrot balls in salted water for 3 minutes, then shock in ice water.
Blanch fresh peas for 1 minute, then shock in ice water.
When ready to serve, warm peas and carrot balls in butter with a splash of water, season with salt.
Fold in chopped chives just before plating.
Sous Vide Lobster
Heat water bath to 140°F (60°C).
Place vacuum-sealed lobster in water bath for 15 minutes.
Just before serving, remove lobster from bags. Reserve the butter from bags.
In a small saucepan, heat the remaining butter with butter from bags to create a beurre monté for glazing.
For Ricotta Foam (Just Before Serving)
Combine ricotta whey, cream, and butter in a small saucepan.
Heat gently until warm, but do not boil.
Season with salt to taste.
Add soy lecithin if using.
Use immersion blender to create foam just before plating.
Cook Gnocchi
Bring a large pot of salted water to a gentle boil.
Cook gnocchi in batches until they float to the surface, about 2-3 minutes.
Remove with a slotted spoon and toss gently in some of the warm beurre monté.
To Plate
On a long rectangular plate, create a streak of pea purée along one side.
Place a small mound of the warm peas and carrot balls on top of the purée.
Arrange 3-4 gnocchi alongside the vegetables.
Place pieces of lobster on top, angling them to create height.
Garnish with carrot tuiles, inserting them vertically into the plate.
Add pea shoots.
Just before serving, spoon ricotta foam around the plate.
Finish with a light sprinkle of fleur de sel and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.
Chef's Notes
The key to this dish is treating each element with respect. The lobster should be just cooked, the gnocchi pillowy soft, and the vegetables vibrant.
For the carrot tuiles, try curving them over rolling pins while still pliable from the dehydrator for a more dramatic presentation.
If you don't have a sous vide setup, you can gently poach the lobster in butter at a very low temperature (around 160°F/70°C), being careful not to let it boil.
The beauty of this dish comes from presenting the peas and carrots in multiple forms – both as whole elements and transformed through technique.
For an elegant variation, try adding a touch of lemon zest to the ricotta foam or a hint of tarragon to the pea purée.
Inspired by Bernard's Inn, circa 2009
