Interview of Chef
Amato Ferrero
Today, Hall of Fame Chef Amato Ferrero talks about his rise from chef’s apprentice in 1930s Italy to national president of the American Culinary Federation, Chairman of the National Culinary Art Salon, and Chairman of Les Amis d’Escoffier. Chef Ferrero has won too many awards to list here, but among them is an honorary membership in the World Cooks Congress. He is one of only fourteen chefs in the world to be so honored. In 2001 Chef Ferrero was inducted into the Chef’s Hall of Fame.
Chef Ferrero, thank you for joining us today. Could you tell us how you came to be a chef’s apprentice?
Well, my family had a small farm in Vestigné, Northern Italy. It wasn’t enough to support the family and my older brother, Frankie, worked in Ivrea as a salami maker. He heard there was an opening for an apprentice at the Hotel Dora, and that was exciting. It was a good opportunity, so I went for an interview and got the job. I was thirteen.
That was 1931. What was it like to be a chef’s apprentice in those days?
The first year, I worked with no pay but I got room and board. We cooked with coal so I had to be in the kitchen early to light the stoves, you know, have them good and hot, ready to go when the cooks arrived. I also did the general cleaning up, washing dishes and peeling potatoes. Every Thurs I had to pluck 16 chickens and I hated that job. Singeing the feathers smelled terrible. I still remember that smell.
The second year, I got a small salary and I helped the cooks. I was allowed to do a little light cooking, mostly vegetables. I still had to light the stoves and peel potatoes, but no more chickens to pluck, thank God.
The third year, I worked alongside the cooks, and at the end of that year I got a diploma that certified me as a cook. By then I was almost seventeen, full grown, and it was time to start my career. I was born in the United States in 1918, and my mother wanted me to take advantage of my citizenship. The owner of the Hotel Dora was American and she helped me get my papers together. I left Italy in 1934.
How did you like living in the United States?
I didn’t. I was lonely and unhappy at first because I didn’t speak English and, even after all my training, I had to work as a dishwasher. I wrote to my mother asking to come home, but she said she had no money to bring me back. I think she did, but she knew I had more opportunities in the U.S. I was bitterly disappointed, but there was nothing I could do about it. I lived with an aunt and her family in Chicago, washing dishes during the day and going to school at night to learn English.
What do you remember most about that time?
It’s funny the things you remember. I remember jello. My aunt used to make jello, which I’d never seen before, and I was fascinated by the colors and the way it wobbled. I wanted to taste it but I wasn’t really part of the family, more like a boarder. I paid to sleep on the porch. So I didn’t get any jello, and I know it sounds silly now, but that jello really looked like something special back then. It represented everything I couldn’t have.
How long did you live there?
Three years. Then I got a room on Dearborn St, close to my job at the Sherman Hotel. That way, I could walk to and from work to save the seven-cent streetcar fare.
What did you do at the Sherman Hotel, and how long did you stay there?
I was there about ten years. I went from fry cook to sauce cook to fish cook to Chinese cook. Yes, that’s right, Chinese. We had a giant wok. In those days, everybody in the kitchen had a station and you worked your way up. Finally, I was promoted to night chef, which meant I was in charge of the kitchen on the night shift.
I met my wife at the Sherman Hotel. She was a Pantry Girl—they made the salads. She had beautiful black hair and we married in 1941. She was eighteen and I was 21. In those days girls gave their paychecks to their family and got an allowance. When we got married she had 8 dollars to her name. But I was making $29 a week, so we made ends meet.
You were at the Sherman Hotel during WWII. What was it like to work in a hotel kitchen during the war?
Well, there was a firing freeze on during the war, and we had a French chef who wanted to replace me with a Frenchman. In those days if there was a French chef it was considered a French kitchen, and he didn’t like having an Italian in his kitchen. But he couldn’t do anything about it during the war. Every day he used say, “Apres le guerre, Amato c’est fin!.” After the war, Amato is finished! He was frustrated that he couldn’t fire me and hire his friend.
Did he fire you after the war?
Oh, he died before the war was over. So it wasn’t me who was finished after the war. They shipped his body back to France.
Did things change after the war?
Yes! The unions got stronger and things changed a lot. Before the war, cooks worked a split watch. We worked from 6 a.m. until 2 p.m. then had 3 hours off, and then came back for the dinner shift and worked until 9 p.m. It was a 15-hour day 7 days a week. But after the unions became more powerful, we worked 8-hour days with one day off. What a difference! That day off felt like a two-week vacation.
Why did you leave the Sherman House?
In 1947 I heard about an opening for a sous chef at the Pick Congress Hotel.
A sous chef is second in command. He supervises the kitchen and answers only to the Executive Chef. I applied for that and got it. That was my first job with any real authority, and I learned how to run a hotel kitchen.
And then you became an Executive Chef?
Not right away, but I caught a break. After three years as a sous chef, the Executive Chef was fired, and the hotel put me in charge for a three-month trial as Executive Chef. It was a big hotel. I had a staff of fifty-two cooks and we had a main kitchen, a banquet kitchen and a service kitchen. On average we served 3,000 to 4000 people a day. It was a challenge, but I found I was good at running things. After three months they made it permanent.
Did you cook for many famous people?
Oh, yes. Presidents, movie stars, heads of state. One time, we served King Faruk and I had to do the cooking personally. No cooks for the King, only the Executive Chef could handle his food. His favorite dish was breast of pheasant under a glass bell.
You were very active in culinary organizations. How did that come about?
The management at the Pick Congress encouraged me to get involved with the American Culinary Federation, and to do promotional events and TV appearances. I actually spent more time out promoting the hotel than I did in the kitchen. But I had good people to delegate to, and the hotel was very supportive.
I became president of the Chefs of Cuisine of Chicago and I held that office for ten years. Then, in 1973, I was elected national president of the American Culinary Federation. That was a proud moment for me.
I understand you became quite well known.
Yes. The Kennedy administration invited me to apply for the job of White House Chef, but the salary was less than what I was making. I had a family and I couldn’t afford the pay cut. I needed the money more than the prestige so I stayed at the Pick-Congress
What was it like to be president of the American Culinary Federation?
The culinary industry in the U.S. wasn’t what it is today. Today, it’s fashionable to be a chef. [He smiles] My personal secretary had to double as my ACF secretary. As president, I had to travel a lot and the ACF had no funds to speak of; the Pick-Congress covered my expenses. In 1974 we opened the ACF national headquarters in St Augustine Florida, and it’s still there today. It was an exciting time. During that time I often hosted the Escoffier Dinner. That’s something, only for the crème de la crème.
Can you tell us about the Escoffier dinner?
Those are annual dinners given in memory of the great Chef Escoffier. The tradition was to invite only 99 people, all men because in those days there were no women chefs. Of course, that has changed. The 100th place at the table was an empty, red-upholstered chair in honor of Chef Escoffier. It looks almost like a throne and the whole dinner was served to that empty chair.
At these dinners there is no water, no salt, no pepper, no bread, no fresh flowers, no smoking. The food is expected to be perfect, and nothing that might interfere with the smell or taste is allowed. It’s a three-hour dinner with eight courses and eight wines. It’s a ritual.
Once, I prepared a special centerpiece for the hors d’oeuvre table— a four hundred pound block of ice with a plastic bag of gold fish swimming in the center. I had to change the bag every 15 minutes so the fish wouldn’t freeze, but it was an eye-catcher.
If you had to pick one thing, what would you say was the high point of your career?
Well being elected to the national presidency was a fine moment. But while I was president, Air Force General McLaughlin asked me to inspect the military commissaries in Germany. He wanted efficiency reports, and that was a quite an experience. They made me an honorary three-star General, I had a chauffeur, my own protocol officer, and a private car on the train that took me all over Germany.
I also had a personal chef who prepared anything I wanted at a moment’s notice—smoked eel, beef Wellington, Strawberries Romanoff flambé. He was a good chef and everything was the best! It’s good to be a General.
As a chef’s chef, what’s your favorite dish?
Frito Misto. You really have to know what you’re doing to make a good frito misto. It’s veal brains and tonsils, veal scallopini, sweet white polenta, artichokes and cauliflower, all dipped in egg batter and sautéed. It’s difficult because everything has to be made at the last minute and served immediately. It’s a very delicate dish but when it’s made right —molto delizioso!
What’s the most impressive piece of culinary art you ever saw?
One time, the chef at the Chicago Hilton sculpted a 90 foot long Last Supper out of chocolate. Ninety feet! It was much bigger than life size. It took him six months, and it was displayed at the Chicago Field Museum for two months. In the end, it was melted down, but there were lots of pictures taken, and I still have some. That was really something.
You left the Pick-Congress in the 80’s. What did you do after retiring?
I became a consultant. It’s much easier work than running a kitchen, and the pay is better. I simply walked through commercial kitchens and told them how to maximize their productivity. After you’ve run a big hotel kitchen for thirty years you can spot the mistakes immediately.
Did you miss cooking?
Not really. As an Executive Chef I didn’t do all that much cooking anyway, more supervising. And when I started doing food shows I got to see the world—Hong Kong, London, Paris, Hawaii, Japan—I once had dinner with the Emperor of Japan.
I still enjoy cooking at home, but now I like to cook simply. Food should be fresh as possible, and I always buy what’s in season. Vegetables should have bright color and firm texture, and fruit should have a good strong aroma. I buy peaches with my nose. Never buy fish whose eyes look cloudy. Fresh and simple, that’s the secret. Start with fresh food and prepare it well—you can’t go wrong.