|
PEOPLE
Chris . Jamie . Neil . Aimee . Suzanne . Tracy . Joshua . Mike . Elizabeth .
CHRIS CARRIKER
Executive Chef
Simple Northwest Cuisine.
Using as many local products as possible while heavily influenced by French, Italian and Mediterranean styles and traditions, Carriker's offerings are straightforward using interesting ingredients.
" I focus on simple elegance, with a little whimsy of course. Taking classic cuisine and putting a 'Gilt' twist on it." This experience is in essence, grounded in consuming foods grown, caught and made in Oregon, in our Pacific Northwest, and how we celebrate our native products.
Chris has been seen in a number of northwest kitchens: Wildwood, 23Hoyt, Meriwether's, and the Silver Grill to name a few, but his best is yet to come.
JAMIE DUNN
Owner & Manager
Jamie Dunn, a.k.a. Mike Messerschmidt, is by far, and by complete and unhesitating consensus, the absolute weirdest boss any of us have ever had. First of all, he wears shiny, gold-colored shoes. And silver ones, too, sometimes. He’s a perfectionist who’s clean-cut and whose clothing style ranges from fashionable to a bit gaudy. His go-to facial expression is one of dry sarcasm and judgmental disgust. And he kind of walks around like he’s attracted to himself, and he likes Madonna and Britney Spears, not to mention Farrah Fawcett, his absolute fave. He has an amazing collection of kitschy memorabilia, hates Thanksgiving (issues!), and is a complete hedonist who is only saved from the tyranny of physical pleasure by the fact that he’s obsessed with the way he looks.
The guy is strange, off, not on the same page. He doesn’t socialize in the same way that the rest of us do. He often responds to questions that are actually important and sometimes urgent with “Bleep, bloop, blop. I am an interstellar robot,” or, “Does not compute.” But he does it in a robot voice. For the last 6 months he’s been into this name-calling thing. So, if one of us asks what time it is, he’ll say, “YOU’re a ‘what time is it’.” Or if a couple of us are talking about the espresso machine he’ll just butt in and say, “YOU’re an espresso machine.” He does it ALL THE TIME.
But mostly he just sits in the back corner of the bar doing God-knows-what on his computer, all hunched over and moody looking, avoiding and being avoided, while all of us try to work as least as possible. Sometimes he’ll get up to see if there’s any left-over chocolate cake in the kitchen window or to check the night’s sales, and every once in a while you can catch him wistfully glancing up at the space behind the curtains above the front door where his favorite, very old Flat Eric puppet was stolen from. Again: weird.
The unfortunate reality is that being a weirdo is not without its hardships, and it is rarely easy. Opening his first restaurant, The Pepper Lounge, in Chicago at the age of 24 was not an easy task for Jamie, we are sure. Garnering the inclusion of his second restaurant, Technicolor Kitchen, into the Chicago Tribune’s ‘Ten Best New Restaurants’ was certainly not effortless. Neither was doing all the designing and almost all of the build-out for The Gilt Club by himself a simple or painless thing. We can also mention the following-- Earning his certification as a level 3 snowboarding instructor: difficult. Maintaining Genius Bar level proficiency on a Macintosh: time-consuming. Being a 13-year-old fat girl trapped in the body of a 39-year-old man: arduous. Holding on to his Pez collection long enough to eventually sell the whole thing in order to make a down payment on a house: trying. Being really, really, really, really, really good-looking: burdensome.
And we don’t know if it’s his android programming or not, but the guy’s pretty honest, and at least seems like he attempts to be fair. Don’t misunderstand, J.D. regularly tries and succeeds at being a completely insulting jerk, but overall he’s actually (dare I say it?) a good boss. And that in itself is unusual. For every finger he slowly drives into your most deep-seated emotional wounds like the sadistic deviant he is, you know he either has or will put a sincere effort towards doing what he can for you when you need it. As much as he may gloat and prance and yell “In yer face!” whenever he gets the chance, you know when he says, “My pleasure,” he means it.
You, the customer, of course, will never see most of these characteristics I’ve just described in any of your interactions with Mr. Dunn. You will only ever encounter a perfectly polite, charmingly handsome, Italian-Irish-American from Michigan who is more than happy to oblige your every whim. But be warned: as much as he may act like he’s on track with what’s going on around him, you must remember that he is a very sexually confused robot from outer space, whose immediate gut reactions and compulsions are no different than those of a pre-pubescent who suffers from body-dysmorphic disorder. Knowing is half the battle, but be on your guard, and if you feel like something bad is about to happen, just acknowledge his superiority and give him sugar. We don’t know why it works, but it does, and that’s all we have to go on right now.
“It took Jamie a year and a half to acknowledge that I’m not a complete moron.”
-Joshua Favale
“I hope he catches fire!”
-Tracy Apple
“He just makes everything look so effortless... mostly because he’s not really doing anything.”
-Joe Turner
“Ya, most people I know put an effort towards NOT making others feel uncomfortable. Jamie, not so much.”
-Allison Webber
“Owning a restaurant sure must take it outta ya, ‘cause the guy is constantly eating.”
-Kelly Fisher
Neil Everett
Sous Chef
Once upon a time there was a kitchen full of babies. Baby unicorns, actually. Beautiful, multi-colored unicorn babies that liked to cook and liked all of the Rainbow Land creatures to worship them for their food-creating abilities and their large horns. But one day the unicorn babies began to realize that the worship they received was not enough, not quite enough for their beautiful baby egos, and they began to war, one against the other. Thus began the Dark Times, the times of uncertainty and turmoil.
These times were short-lived, however, but not before The Destruction had ravaged The Land of Rainbows and nearly torn it asunder. This mighty Destruction came in the form of many large and quite messy explosions, explosions of the heads of each of the unicorn babies, one after the other. Bam! Pow! Plaghff! Unicorn heads just popped like big, bloody balloons right off the necks of those beautiful, grumpy, princess unicorns and covered Rainbow Land in crimson and flesh. But soon the pain and the torture was over, and once all of the heads of the beautiful-horn horses had burst the Land was free to reinvent itself.
For out of the gory necks of those headless, equine princesses came a refreshingly motley crew, like wild flowers blooming out of the ruins of ancient Rome, some of whom had only been trapped beneath the egoistic scrutiny of the former oppressors of Rainbow Land (like ancient Rome? Eh, not so much). But now that all were free to be examined under the True Light of Judgement, many were allowed to flourish.
And so it happened that The Land of Rainbows and Gilded Strawberry Fairies was renewed, and with a firmer grasp on the food they liked and the way they acted and how down to earth they were, all creatures great and small worked together, in harmony, if not to maintain an atmosphere where greatness can truly be achieved, then at least to prevent anyone's head from blowing up and splattering blood all over everybody. That was gross and no one wants to see that again.
And this is the story of how Neil Everett became Sous Chef at the Gilt Club.
The End.
Aimee Bertani
Bartender
Coming soon..
Suzanne Allard
Bartender
Coming soon...
TRACY APPLE
Server
Whether it’s “I’m a nerd-bomb exploding into a million pieces!”, “Shut your face, I hope you catch fire,” or just a quick, little wiggle under her nose with the Dirty Sanchez tattoo she has on the side of her index finger, Tracy Apple always has something interesting to bring to the table.
Her ability to talk about any subject as if she has been doing intensive research on it for days on end has both convinced and confused us all, especially when she actually has been doing intensive research on that subject for days on end. A connoisseur of wine, food, and liquor, Tracy is not afraid to take her work home with her, or to get so drunk she can’t see, or to eat so fast she throws up. Often trapped all day in her fourth-story apartment by her undergrad studies in English and French (PSU), or simply by her insatiable curiosity [yes, that’s code], she rarely lacks the energy to tell you everything you didn’t actually care to know about her new favorite wine or tequila, the phonology of Old English, or where LSD was invented and how it effectively redefined how we think about our culture and our selves.
The first girl to have a cocktail named after her that involves mainly cucumber; the only girl we know who has no observable control over her bodily functions; literally a nerd-bomb exploding, yet ever so slowly as to not be so dramatic or noticeable: Tracy Apple.
JOSHUA FAVALE
Server
Joshua Favale is pretty much your regular kinda guy. If he’s not dropping his keys down the drain in the parking lot of Fred Meyer, rear-ending parked cars on his single-speed bicycle at four in the morning, or alienating his friends and family by drinking way too much bourbon on the last night of camping and running half-naked through the woods for hours because he believes that nobody loves him, you can be pretty sure he’s probably relaxing at home with three or four books in front of him, the content of which having nothing at all to do with what he’s daydreaming about while staring off into space.
Currently working on his undergraduate degree in Applied Linguistics at PSU, Joshua loves the weekends, because that’s when he gets to shed the burdensome costume of academia and scholarly correctness and just let loose, laugh at his own stupid jokes, and shake those those crazy martinis.
MIKE DOHERTY
Server
Ok, Mike Doherty, Mike Doherty, Michael, Michael, something about Mike Doherty that isn’t racially insensitive to the Irish people and is still interesting or entertaining enough to be note-worthy, let’s see… well, that’s easy, there’s lots of things.
One of those things: his stealthiness as a sex symbol. Ya, that’s right. Sex. Symbol. But Stealthy. Now, it’s not common for sex symbols to go unnoticed as such, but Michael Doherty’s game is one that must be well-played or not played at all. It takes time to grasp, to wrap one’s head round, but once you understand that it is his very UN-ladykiller-like façade that makes him so deadly, you suddenly (and it happens suddenly, this realization) find yourself in awe as at any other really good piece of art. And it IS an art— Michael Doherty would have it no less.
For women are Art to Michael Doherty, and a species whose craftiness begs the craft of a man who, for lack of a better way to put it, dates way above his class, all the time. Don’t get us wrong, folks, these are his words. And proud words, spoken with an affable Irish gusto that invariably makes him look the better man. He’s a warlock, this one, a devilish leprechaun.
There are charms a ‘plenty up this one’s sleeve, and best you believe us, because he’s got every single one of us here at Gilt right where he wants us: Up that damned, charmy sleeve. Non-threatening but clever, nerdy but not uptight, humble yet quite confident, only slightly above-average height and looks but WOW, what a wardrobe! To be sure, if every employee at Gilt Club were a woman, he definitely would have had sex with us all by now. In a sort of corporate, restaurant group way, of course.
Where were we? Ah, yes, Michael Doherty. So, one day the ol’ Mick pops into the wait station with this: “Member that scene in High Fidelity where John Cusack’s character is talking about his Top Five Break-Ups and he says that Catherine Zeta Jones was out of his class? Ya, well, eff that. I say, eff not dating out of your class. I date out of my class all the time. And I do it well,” and on “well” he gives us a triple eyebrow raise and a toothy grin.
So, there you have it. And that’s just one out of many partially racially sensitive things we can say about Mike D. Moral of the story is: Don’t Smoke Crack. And: Be Careful, Ladies. ‘Cause the Doherty is in full-mothereffen’-effizzeck. If you don’t believe me, just note the contents of #1 on M.D.’s list of four to five cure-alls that exist on planet earth:
“I’ve distilled my philosophy down to there being about 4-5 cure-alls that exist on planet earth. Number one is A Good Shag. [Agreed] Number two: Steak & Eggs. [Oh, ya.] Number three, and this might just be for me, is A New Suit. [um, OK] Number four: (pause) Jumping Jacks! [Right, right, but, like how many, though?] Oh, until you feel better. It’s a cure-all, so it’s until you feel better. [OK] And number five: Oh, can I can get a drum roll? Drum roll, anybody? [Budda-budda-budda-budda…] A Nap. [Wow.] Ya, that’s my repertoire of top four, or five, cure-alls that exist on earth.”
Elizabeth Pedinotti
Server
Coming soon if Joshua can get over his infactuation
Past Favorites
Just because they don't work here anymore doesn't make them any less interesting to read.
JOE
Bartender
We don’t think of Joe Turner as a bartender. We don’t think of him as a really tall guy who doesn’t like tomatoes. And We don’t even think of him as an up-and-coming Portland music star or a talented mixologist. But although Joe Turner is all of these things and more, we think of him as a man who cares.
Because whether it’s keeping you abreast of the progress he’s making with his music project, Very International Love, or impressing you with his knowledge of amps and guitars and other musician-type gadgety thingys, or maybe taking off for China to play music and coming back a month later to tell you he just partied in L.A. the whole time, Joe Turner is a guy who you know cares about you. You can tell by the way he nods his head and doesn’t look at you and says, “ya. ya... yup,” when you’re telling him a story most people would find pretty boring, but still keeps on working as if completely undistracted. You can tell when you order a drink and he starts joking around like he’s crazy and keeps pulling out different bottles off the shelf and putting them back and then tells you they’re all filled with water and shrugs his shoulders like he’s really sorry (so funny!). You can even tell when he’s not there, but you wish he were because you simply miss his presence, and also because you’re really thirsty now.
Ya, Joe Turner is alot of things, but at the end of the day we know he is one bartender who’s focused on making original cocktails that will not only make you happy, but will only add, and never take away from, how impressed you are with the man that Joe Turner is: really tall, doesn’t like tomatoes, cares.
KELLY
Server
This is Kelly. She’s our part-timer right now. Works Mondays and Tuesdays. Oh, and she’s a lawyer—sort of. Well, c’mon, when you think of a LAWYER you think of a steely-eyed, grim-faced, commanding human being who wouldn’t shy away from putting their own mother on the gangplank to win a case, right? So, Kelly’s as much of a ‘lawyer’ as a person can be who’s 5’6” with a thousand cute, little freckles on her face and who smiles all the time and bobs around the restaurant like Boo Boo out for a sumptuous picnic with Yogi Bear. And, come on, would a LAWYER tilt their head, snap their fingers, stick out a hip, point at you a say “Yo, what’s up?”? Right? OK, maybe a LAWYER would say “yo, what’s up”, but the hip thing?
So, for now, as far as we’re concerned, Kelly’s not a real lawyer. The mismatch of stereotypes is something we don’t understand, and the task of reading about what a ‘public interest lawyer’ does simply doesn’t appeal to any of us, except maybe Tracy.
Sooner or later we’ll find out what she really is when she’s not slinging burrata and sorrel ice cream, but until then we’re gonna keep on treating her like the backpacking, bike-riding, organic gardening, yoga-practicing, WTO protesting, Burning Man-burning, world-travelling, sensible shoe-wearing, Dartmouth graduate we know she really is. And if she ever makes a completely transparent attempt to commiserate with you about the hardships of navigating through the details of ‘environmental law’, just do what we do: give her a pat on the shoulder and a little wink. ‘Environmental Law’. Like that even exists.
Allison
bartender
If Allison Webber looks at you up and down with one raised eyebrow like she's judging whether you're cool enough to be in her presence, she's covering. If she leans a lazy arm over her bar and pulls a snotty face and says something like, "What's your damage?", she's also covering. And if she puts her hands on her hips and aggressively yells at you: "What?!", you know she's definitely covering. Because she can't remember what you just said, or what just happened, or what she's supposed to do. Because Allison is totally ADD. She's one half of our bar staff here at Gilt, and she's a classic case of the type of person who loses focus, struggles with multi-tasking, and forgets what she's doing. We know it doesn't make sense, but this is the reality.
So, don't be fooled by her bitchy, put-out exterior. She actually wants to give you good service, to anticipate your every move, to satiate your every thirst, to make your Gilt experience all it should be. But just try not to distract her too much. Avoid asking her too many questions in a row. Don't insist on carrying on a conversation with her about the same thing for longer than a couple minutes. Only order one thing at a time, and never, never bring up anything that could be seen as even remotely related to these few subjects: sailing, travelling, camping, Thailand, Vietnam, Japan, Mexico, good scotch, ducks, Scotland, England, spelling, Germany, France, movies, Italy, cats, Austria, her weekend, Oregon, the history of Oregon, Oregonianism, Washington, New York, sailing, horses, rabbits, chickens, South Carolina, The South, southern food, sailing, Idaho, breaking bones, bedtime stories, ponies, pigs, going to state in 4H (barrels, keyhole, and figure 8), time capsules, high school, her dog and cat, apartments for rent, love, sailing, David Sedaris' books, David Sedaris signing her book "To Foxzilla", David Sedaris in general, drinks, food, hopes and dreams, or her naturally curly hair.
Other than these, you can talk to her about anything. Otherwise, you will unwittingly render her useless, except for the occasional drink she might make, which she will deliver with a dramatic sweep of her hands and a "Huzzah!", which is always quite appropriate, seeing as how you waited so long for it.
So don't get Allison the wrong way. That feisty front is merely her way of coping with a total lack of qualities which normally assist bartenders in remembering what they're doing and working efficiently in a fast-paced environment. Underneath that snarky, annoyed face is really just a big dork with a good heart, who just wants to know what to do next. So, don't take offense at her snide comments, just play along with it and try to help her keep on target.
Oh, and she WILL come round to the other side of the bar to help you with your crossword while drink tickets pile up on her rail. So, no crossword puzzles allowed, either. "Them's the rules," as Allison herself might say.
Kate
Server
"Kate is great." That's what everyone said when Kate started here at Gilt, and they still do. "Kate? Oh, Kate's great. We love Kate." It's true. But one sometimes wonders if the phrase "Kate is great" could be used to describe not only her, but also her opinion of everything. "Oh, wonderful," "Oh, that's brilliant," and "Oh, perfect, ya, um, that's marvelous," are phrases you will often hear from her. And one must also wonder if sometimes when she says, "Oh, that's just, that's just sexy, that's just really, it's really intellingent is what it is," when she's talking about a glass of lemon wedges or a clean rack of silverware- one must wonder if the meaning of her words is the same inside her mind as it is in everyone else's minds. One must wonder if she's being a little over-affirming, just slightly passive-aggressive, when she says it's "wonderful" that you don't have change for a ten, or "brilliant" when we run out of bibb lettuce. One time she even called a plate of crostini "cute" as one of us walked by with it into the dining room.
The thing about it, though, is that Kate is great. All of her overly-positive comments aside, she actually is wonderful and brilliant, and she has a B.A. in Documentary Film-making to prove it, among many other unofficial credentials, including a background in pilates instruction, dream analysis, and a serious interest towards post-graduate studies in Jungian psychology. And sometimes, if you're lucky, her passive-aggressiveness and her brilliance will cross streams and right in the middle of a sentence with words like "commodify" and "aristotelian", she'll just up and forget how to talk altogether. That's right- she'll forget how English works. An absolutely gorgeous, 5'11", half Japanese/half German, educated server in a vintage dress struggling to form a sentence? Now, that's just marvellous, and way cuter than a any plate of crostini.
|
