A chef teaches her neighbors to cook better

FIRST PERSON | SHELLEY HANDLER

My first cooking memory comes from early in my life. It was a Saturday morning, and I was standing on the counter in our ’50s butter yellow kitchen. I was 3 years old, barefoot, in a T-shirt and poofy panties. I had a small red plastic bowl, into which went raw rice, a chunk of margarine and Bosco chocolate syrup. The bowl sat on the third shelf up from the counter and there I stood, facing into the cupboard, stirring away, when my father’s voice boomed through the doorway: “What are you doing?” I jumped, then quickly regained my composure. “Cooking,” I replied, and I have been doing it ever since. 

Now, after a half-century in some notable kitchens — and almost that long in the neighborhood — I want to stay closer to home and teach my neighbors, in their own kitchens, how to be better cooks.

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I made family dinners as early as first grade and fed both of my sisters in their high chairs when they came along. A decade later they were handy sous chefs for the elaborate meals we made for family celebrations. I stepped up my culinary chops in college, then moved to San Francisco and ran Jessica’s, a small but ambitious Financial District sandwich shop set in a 1920s prefab diner behind Golden Gate University. The fact that I was in charge led me to believe I liked the food business. 

After a year and a half of soup and sandwiches, I took off for Europe for the summer. When I came back, a friend mentioned that a new school for chefs was opening. After one quick visit, I joined the California Culinary Academy’s inaugural class nine days later.

Culinary school was quite a mix. The cooking was great, and the challenge of feeding our lunch guests classical French dishes daily was an excellent proving ground. Working with older European chefs gave the women in our class a taste of the sexist behavior we would find to varying degrees when we entered the field. But several of them were kind and encouraging, and one pointed me toward a work program in Switzerland for culinary graduates, into which I was accepted. Just before my departure, the great food writer Marion Cunningham, who I had met through my friend Ruth Reichl, took me for lunch at Chez Panisse and introduced me to Alice Waters. In parting, Alice casually said: “Come see me when you return.”

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Once back home the next January, I spared no time dropping in on Alice, who announced: “I’m opening a cafe upstairs in a few months.” On April 1, 1980, the cafe was launched, and I became the first head chef. What a rich, whirlwind education it was! I created the daily menus, which followed the Chez Panisse rhythm at the time of all new dishes every day. Sometimes we changed them twice a day, when supplies ran out. It was tough, but it was also priceless, and I still draw on what I learned there. 

After my time at Chez Panisse, I was part of Bradley Ogden’s opening crew at Campton Place, and helped my dear friend Franca Orsi open local favorite Ristorante Milano near Polk Street. I was tickled an appetizer I created for the restaurant remained on the menu for 41 years before Milano closed last year. 

I’d taught at the Cordon Rouge, a small school for chefs in Marin, and eventually I began teaching at the California Culinary Academy, where I created the Italian Regional class and taught for a decade. One of my biggest points of pride is seeing how well my former students are doing and what great assets they are to the community — notably Laurence Jossel at Nopa and Ron Siegel at his Michelin-starred Madcap in Marin.

Teaching continued to overlay my forays into food writing and product development for major food corporations, the job that rivals teaching as my favorite. Eventually my favorites merged when corporate team building classes became a staple. 

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When a friend asked me to help her newly launched graduate with some cooking basics, my teaching took a turn for the personal I did not realize I needed. Since stepping into that kitchen, I’ve led newly single dads beyond hot dogs and pancakes, helped already steady cooks add some flair, and unlocked the mysteries of sauces, seafood, spaghetti carbonara and so many other dishes. I’ve even been called upon to turn ramen into a real meal. It’s hard to say I’m working because teaching people to cook is so much fun. 

Most of my earlier private students had come to me via team building, and most of them lived in Silicon Valley. When a neighbor asked me to teach her nephew to cook just before he went back to school this fall, it was a delight to teach a private student face to face in my own backyard. It became very clear to me that I didn’t really have to go so far.

So in the new year, I hope to teach my neighbors, in their own homes, to cook better. It’s as much fun to teach 8-year-olds as it is to teach their grandparents. Let’s bring the fun to your kitchen and cook up something great together.

Shelley Handler has lived in Cow Hollow for 35 years. On Fillmore Street, you’ll find her at La Mediterranee “for its very dependable dishes, its homey atmosphere and its welcoming service — it’s still my idea of a perfect lunch. I also love Oyster Tuesdays at Woodhouse Fish — where else can you find $1 Kumamoto oysters so close to home? If I’m going to sit quietly with a coffee and stare off into space, I will do so at Compton’s in the outdoor seating. If I want coffee and conversation, I go to Peet’s and sit on the bench in front.” If you’re interested in her private classes, contact her at chefshelleyteaches@gmail.com.