Disclaimer: All of the names of my co-workers in the “Tales Behind the Plate” series have been either abbreviated or changed to protect the guilty and exonerate the innocent. Enjoy!
Episode 1 – The Fonda Residence
It was the fall of 2003 and one of the more enlightening years of my life. I was working as an event chef for an exclusive catering company in Atlanta. Lets call it Fearless American Caterers and it was quite a wild season. This particular weekday I had been given the task of executing an hor d’oeuvres party for an intimate gathering. It was to be held on Ralph McGill Blvd at the penthouse and residence of one Jane Fonda.
Now growing up near Atlanta and being a product of the 80’s and 90’s, I of course, knew of her. Primarily as Ted Turners exwife and not particularly on her own merits. He after all owned the Braves and it was during their incredible run. Don’t get me wrong, I know of her accomplishments and remember her exercise videos, but she wasn’t exactly on my must meet list.
The event was small and intimate. Only about a dozen people or so, and in preparation for an Art gallery exhibition at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta. She had recently returned from a trip to Africa and had acquired quite a collection of African artwork. The artwork was to be exhibited at the High before being auctioned off. The proceeds would then be donated to various charities dedicated to improving the Continent. A noble cause indeed.
The server and I arrived at the building and after a few calls were let into the heavily secured property. We loaded most of our equipment and food into the very well designed elevator and ascended to the top floor. It was the kind of place where the elevator opened into the penthouse, a very nice touch. The elevator doors opened into a relatively short hallway that led to the main floor of the penthouse. As we reached the end of the hallway the vastness of the space became apparent.
The side opposite the elevator was a large two story wall of solid glass. It ran the entire length of the penthouse and was beautifully impressive. You could see from Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in the south through downtown, midtown and Buckhead to the north in a completely unobstructed view of the entire city.
The windows were tinted to make the sun, as it set in the distance, pleasantly viewable. There were three glass doors. Equally spaced and set in the wall of windows that opened onto the massive balcony. The balcony additionally ran the length of the penthouse. The balcony was lined by a beautiful stone railing filled with Dorian column balusters and surfaced with dark marble tiles. In short, it was beautiful.
Mrs. Fonda’s assistant was showing us to our work space, which was in fact the kitchen. The kitchen was tucked in the left hand corner of the penthouse and the only area on the main floor that was walled in. Though the walls on the two sides of the kitchen facing out into the penthouse were only half walls. Essentially as you worked in the corner kitchen you could see every corner of the main floor. Between the kitchen and window of walls was the dining area. I say area as again, with the exception of the half walls encapsulating the kitchen, there were no other barriers or dividers on the main floor.
As I passed the massive solid wood table that could easily seat 20 people comfortably, I was struck by something strange. On the wall behind the head of the table were 9 original Andy Warhol’s of the lady herself. Arranged in three rows of three and each in a different color. The center painting was the original inspired by Jane Fonda’s title roll in the 1968 film Barbarella.
To this day I find the psychology of having nine pictures of ones self, created by perhaps the greatest pop artist of the 20 th century, displayed on the wall behind the head of the table, perplexing. A presence to behold I assure you. As the assistant, we’ll call him Paul, was showing us around Jane came and leaned over the rail high above and called to him. The room we were in was rather large, but the area above the hallway and lower rooms did have a second floor above. Which also ran the length of the penthouse, anyone at the railing of the second floor could see the entire main living space as well as the view. I assume the upstairs held the bedrooms and private areas of the penthouse.
The housekeeper and her husband, the resident butler and handy man were out of town and someone needed to walk the dog. Paul acknowledged that he would do it shortly and turned back to discuss the final details of our function that evening. With that I was left in the kitchen to work my craft.
The kitchen was something out of a William Sonoma catalog. In the center was a large stainless steel prep table with a shelf underneath, only the top was a solid, beautifully crafted wooden cutting board. Most of the fittings, hooks and hangers were copper and the best all-clad pans and French copper pots hung from the rack over the table. A wolf commercial range in one end and the best of everything sat at it it’s showroom like positions around the kitchen. Everything looked immaculate. From my position in the kitchen I could see around the entire apartment, what a kitchen to entertain from.
As I began building my fruit and cheese display I realized I did not have the water crackers. This was not good, but since E was essentially set up he volunteered to head across town back to HQ to pick them up. With Paul off dog walking, E headed back to the shop and still a couple of hours before guests would arrive, I found myself in the penthouse alone with Jane.
She came down from the second floor and entered the kitchen and struck up a conversation. She told of the couple that lived with her. He took care of things like light bulbs, minor maintenance and butler type duties, while she did the housework and prepared meals. They were English and currently in England on holiday. She told me of their son who was graduating from a prestigious and very old butlers college which explained their vacation in England. She spoke of how proud they all were and how proud she was for them. So you are proud of someone graduating from a school to become a servant, I thought to myself, very strange indeed.
After a few minutes of friendly conversation she retired to the living area on the other side of the penthouse. Beautiful antique sofas and solid wood furniture around a beautiful and massive fireplace on the opposite wall from her wall of Warhol’s. At some point the phone began to ring and since it wasn’t my home, I ignored it. After a few rings I could see her head pop up over the sofa and she, in a raised voice called, “are you going to answer that?”. I almost froze in disbelief and in the same moment picked up the receiver on the phone next to me in the kitchen, placed it to my ear and said in the most professional manner, “Fonda residence”.
They were looking for Paul, oh poor Paul. I explained to them that he was walking the dog and to try back in 30 minutes. I hung up the phone and again went back to my hor d’ouevres. A few minutes later both E and Paul returned and I was officially off of phone duty.
The event went off without any complications as E poured wine and passed out the bite sized treats. Mini crab cakes on cucumber rounds, tiny wonton cups with tuna tartare, slices of Hudson valley Camembert, crumbles of Point Reyes Bleu and perfectly placed bunches of luscious grapes.
After an hour or so of mingling and conversation it was time for Jane and her guests to leave for the exhibition. E and I began packing and cleaning up. As Jane headed towards the elevator she by and told E and I to pour ourselves a glass of wine and enjoy the sunset on the balcony before we left. Why of course Mrs. Fonda, thank you very much for your hospitality.
We cleaned up and placed our supplies and equipment at the elevator. I took off my chef coat, laid it on the cart and pulled a clean wine glass from the rack. We poured a couple of glasses and walked out onto the balcony. The sun was still above the skyscrapers straight ahead. I sat down on one of the lounge chairs and enjoyed one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever experienced in the south. The delicate clouds were just abundant enough to dance in their beautiful cotton candy symphony. We enjoyed our glasses of Cabernet on the balcony as the sun slowly dropped behind the skyline. The city looked like a model in the distance as I took in it’s view in the cool Autumn breeze..
