Roasting in our house is never just a family affair. Even before the twine comes down from the shelf and the chicken out of the fridge, Chef Bill Briwa is queued up on the iPad to instruct us, yet again, how to truss up the poultry. Despite his competent instructions, not a time has gone by without curses, yet not a time has gone by that hasn’t yielded a delicious bird, either.
I’ve only been star-struck twice in my life, and Chef Bill holds one of those times. It seems silly, as he was neither a mainstream celebrity or a person of great global influence, but to me, he already had made a huge impact on my life. I had worked with him on a few digital campaigns via email and phone before, but never met in person. I walked into the studio and instantly recognized his voice and soft smile from watching his courses.
He was on the East Coast for a bit and stopped by to film a bonus segment before heading to a DC restaurant owned by CIA grads that specialized in jamon iberico and madeira (yes, I was jealous). As the crew prepped for his shoot, I observed his off-screen nature. Chef Bill was quiet, contemplative, accommodating, and seemed to go with the flow, even when he was told that the oil he would be cooking Spanish chorizo in was actually popcorn oil. Once the cameras turned on, though, he lit up and became the familiar educator-chef we all knew and loved.
His on-screen demeanor easily expressed the massive amounts of knowledge built up in his noggin and speaking to him anytime off-screen would have one easily as floored with overwhelming information on his subjects. As far as what a learner could wish for, there’s not much else. He made us engaged in the technique and science of cooking, not just the recipe, and motivated this non-cook to venture into the kitchen for something besides cereal and ENJOY the process of cooking. Our kitchen will be a better place because Chef Bill has “been” there.
Julie C. Stoltz 