The story below is a preview from our November/December 2024 issue. For more stories like it, Subscribe Today. Thank you!
Hours before we ever consider the menu, Roanoke chefs are prepping our meals.
Lindsey Hull
Sidecar Executive Chef Brad Deaton’s kitchen is split in two. Here, he stands “up top.”
For you, it’s a relaxing evening. Your server brings you a glass of wine, takes your order, departs with a smile. And then he’s off to the races.
His pace quickens, notes in hand or in mind, tapping your order into “the system.” In the kitchen, a printer spits out a ticket, a cook builds your platter, toasts your crab cakes, “fires” your steak… and within 20 minutes, you and your companions are all served precisely-timed entrees.
At Sidecar in downtown Roanoke, the staff must function as an orchestrated machine, says executive chef Brad Deaton. He and his team prepare food in two kitchens situated 50 feet apart.
“I’ve been in this business since I was 15 years old. It’s the first time I’ve worked in a kitchen that was separated,” he says.
Lindsey Hull
Ashton Schappa and Jace Gilbert work Sidecar’s hot line mere steps from Martin’s Downtown line cooks.
One kitchen is directly behind the restaurant’s dining area, as is expected, in a room called the “down low.” It’s where Sidecar’s seafood, brats and charcuterie are prepared, items from the cold line.
Up a short set of stairs and down a hallway, you’ll find Deaton and the Sidecar hot line team “up top.” Steaks, fries and sautéed items are made here. Deaton communicates with the others via walkie-talkie.
At 8 p.m. on a busy Friday night, the room is bustling. There’s way more than three people in the kitchen.
Ashton Schappa dishes up a peach burrata, while belting out the lyrics to “Peaches.” Behind her, steaks sizzle while Sidecar co-worker Jace Gilbert sautés vegetables.
Three feet away and across an invisible line, Martin’s Downtown cooks grill up their burger of the month. Servers from both restaurants walk by, and the two spots share two dishwashers.
There’s a walkway between Sidecar and Martin’s Downtown; the two buildings are adjacent to one another. Jason Martin owns both restaurants. During Sidecar’s construction, he knocked a hole in a connecting wall and rearranged Martin’s kitchen to accommodate both restaurants’ needs.
They share a pantry, stock area and dish room, where close to 2,000 items are cleaned on a typical weekend night. Martin’s office is down low.
Servers and line cooks are laughing down there. There’s a mixed-up-moment when three cooks banter over who should have been heating the crab louie for a seafood plateau.
“Dog, I swear,” someone says. “Simmer down,” Phillip Alderman jests. Allen Gutierez and Tre Burks work together to add shrimp and lobster to the plate. It’s delivered to the table without delay.
General manager Scotlan Frayne walks through, asking Deaton about his plans to bring back a favorite ice cream. He hesitates, the dish is costly.
“What about a tiny, tiny bit?” she asks again.
“If I can provide a little vacation for people, that’s the goal,” Frayne says. She wants guests to forget their day-to-day lives for two hours, relax and enjoy some really good food.
At the bar, classic cocktails are served alongside seasonal favorites. When a long-time customer requests something off-menu, bartender Hannah Schwenk turns to retrieve a thick recipe binder from a wooden drawer.
“We’ve got inspiration for cocktails that haven’t quite happened, we’ve got failures, there’s a lot of stuff [in there],” Schwenk says.
In his office, Martin keeps stacks of notes, clippings and old menus. He and Deaton collaborate often.
“Jason’s a foodie like no other,” Deaton says.
Deaton has worked in kitchens all along the east coast. Still, a lot of his inspiration came from time spent in his grandma’s kitchen. Food was a big part of family life, he says. He’s carried that forward.
Lindsey Hull
Zac Shifflett rushes into the kitchen, on his way to pick up an order.
His mom’s cauliflower au gratin has been on the menu since day one. He’s served up his grandma’s cornbread, his mom’s pound cake and his aunt’s black walnut cake. Anytime you eat something with gravy – that’s grandma’s special technique.
She taught Deaton that good food takes time.
Prep cooks start showing up at Sidecar – and at other restaurants – as early as 10 a.m.
Prepping is more than chopping some vegetables; some chefs take care of every possible step before the guest enters the restaurant, sometimes before they make the reservation.
To prep one of Sidecar’s most popular holiday dishes, foie gras meatballs, Deaton’s team grinds their lamb, sears their foie gras and rolls each and every meatball by hand — they sell 320 meatballs in a busy week, and that’s just one dish.
Sidecar makes every dish from scratch except for one, the pretzel. It all takes time. Some menu items take twelve to eighteen hours to prepare. Duck confit, for instance, requires an overnight prep.
“I gotta get that stuff in,” Deaton says.
Want to learn more about what's going on behind the scenes at local restaurants, including Center in the Square's Six & Sky? Check out the latest issue, now on newsstands, or see it for free in our digital guide linked below!
The story above is a preview from our November/December 2024 issue. For more stories like it, Subscribe Today. Thank you!