FEATURE

by Tim Donnelly

BACKSTAGE PASS
the INTERVIEW
MAY I KEEP YOUR COAT?
RESTAURANT CRITICISM
LAST CALL
RUM NOTES
SECRET CELLAR
Photography by Todd Chalfant

The world is your oyster when you are a rock star. What if you are the person who shucks the oyster?

Is being a personal chef for a rock star all it's cracked up to be? How about feeding a different band every night? What about traversing the globe with tools of the trade in tow? It sure sounds glamorous, edgy and full of possibilities, doesn't it? As they say, it's a long way to the top if you wanna rock-n-roll.

"The biggest misconception about my job is that we sit around and party with the band every night. When I tell people what I do, they all want to work with me. They think it's real glamorous," laughed Max Gottlieb, General Manager of Artist and Tour Catering for Spectrum Concessions at the Cynthia Wood Pavilion in Houston . Gottlieb and his four-person crew will provide all three meals, dressing room service, after-show meals plus snacks for 125 heads per show. He averages 18-hour days during the course of his 100-event season. "If you are doing a back-to-back, which means another show the next day, we'll shower and crash out in a dressing room to be ready for the next show. It's combat catering," said the former rock guitarist Gottlieb.

In the span of a week, he could be feeding artists as diverse as Beyonce, Ozzy and Shania. Preparation for show day begins a full two weeks in advance, when the artist's production team will send over their requests and menu recommendations. There will be many stipulations in the "rider" which contains the likes and dislikes of the performer. This edict must be followed strictly or fines can be levied. These "requests" can be benign or totally outrageous. For example, Blink 182 demands a box of Lucky Charms and Mariah Carey requires "bendy straws" to sip her Cristal.

"We had one artist request that nobody look him in the eye the entire time he was in catering or backstage. We had a diva ask to put new toilet seats on their dressing rooms toilets. It's their people who are running scared of the band. They are bending over backwards for them, so they want you to bend over backwards," said Gottlieb.

Divas have demands that can be considered above and beyond the realm of normalcy. "I've had some people come in and tell us two inches of ice, and they had a little line drawn on the ice chest where two inches would be...as if we weren't quite sure where two inches were," he laughed.

Sometimes you just can't do anything to satisfy the temperamental artist, no matter what measures are taken. "One diva had me cook scallops and lobster tail for when she got off stage, and it was beautiful," Gottlieb remembered. "She took one look at it, and took another slug of champagne. Then she said, 'Go get me some Red Lobster. The best Red Lobster around.'

Not all artists are over the top with their demands and behavior. Some are down right appreciative for whatever they receive. "If you ask most people in the industry, country western bands are the easiest to deal with. They are happy with just soda, beer, chips and dip in their dressing room. Barbeque and Mexican for dinner makes them very happy," joked Gottlieb.

Neil Young's current tour for his rock opera Greendale , featured crewmembers pulling double duty as actors. The rock legend called on Gottlieb's crew to be thespians. "They needed a mad mob. We went up onstage with pitchforks and shovels yelling and screaming. That was fun," he laughed.

He's worked in every facet of the food industry. He was bus boy, a sous chef and front of house manager, so he knows how to give the people what they want and how to keep them satisfied. "You have your percentage of people your are not going to please, that's a given. It's just like dealing with the public, you get just as many a-holes," he laughed.

Not all bands and crewmembers stuff themselves on queso and ribs to fuel their long days and nights. The music world is not safe from the dietary trends that have taken the country hostage in the past year. "They are eating much more healthy these days. A lot of them, especially the crew, have been there and done that. Now there are taking care of themselves," he said. He's seeing more whole and organic foods requested, but not everyone is following a rigid regimen. "A lot still like their fried food, the beef jerky and sodas and that's comforting."

He counts his Seafood Gumbo as his signature dish, something that goes against the local staples Tex-Mex and barbecue, allowing Gottlieb to take advantage of the world class shrimp and seafood from the nearby Gulf of Mexico . "There are so many cities in Texas . By the time they get to Houston , they are like, 'no Tex-Mex, no barbecue.' They've already had their fill. Which is cool with me."

Turnover is of course a problem for most in the industry but not for Gottlieb. It's possibly because of his rock-n-roll nature (he was a guitarist for L.A. rockers Junkyard) and the environment where he applies his craft. "My whole crew has been with me for four years, even the dishwasher. That's a good sign that we are doing something right."  

"Ready. Set. Cook."

Imagine working long hours, then hopping on plane or a bus to set it all up and break it all down again. Just to wake up to do it all over again, day after day in city after city. This "Groundhog Day" routine is arduous and 28-year-old tour chef Matt O'Donnell wouldn't have it any other way. O'Donnell has worked for rock royalty and chooses that his client list remain confidential. "Its like "Ready. Set. Cook," laughed the former Jersey Shore line cook.

His job description has no description and that's part of the allure and the challenge. He's a food buyer, roadie, chef and morale booster. It is not uncommon for him to unload the tractor-trailer that transports his kitchen on wheels. His "line" consists of two convection ovens, four electric burners, flat grill, portable gas burners, a box full of spices and dry goods, a box full of sauces and his pots and pans.

"You get all the food together and pick a theme. For the rest of the day we are cooking until 10:30 at night, preparing the aftershow meals for the plane or the bus. You break it down until it's spotless. Load it back into the semi and jump on the tour bus. It's usually about two in the morning by then. You sleep for two-three hours, wake up in the next city and do it again," mused the Academy of Culinary Arts grad.

When touring the U.S. , O'Donnell is part of a crew that carries the necessary equipment. When he is overseas, he's just a lonely rider riding against the wind. Working on the fly, he uses provided equipment and gets his food order from his five-star hotel.

He also carries a satchel of spices that he can't live without. "I carry two ziplock freezer bags and small shoulder strap coolers. I have my necessary spices like cumin, and a mixed four-grain peppercorn. My curry is in my cooler. I pull my fresh herbs from the hotel, where it's been pre-arranged," he said.

"I've done all of Europe . Alone. Just think of all the different languages, the interpreters, the different cuisines," said O'Donnell."You never know what you are getting into. Kitchen-wise it could be a casino-sized industrial kitchen or an electric plate plugged into wall behind a tent. It's never the same. Regardless of the situation, what needs to be done has to be done. Sometimes, I'd have a half-hour to do ten entrées from scratch. And, it better be good."

Different challenges greet him at every turn, especially in environments hostile to Americans. "In Canada , I had to deal with SARS. In France and Australia , there were cold shoulders going on because of the war. In Spain , the interpreter guaranteed my ingredients list at a certain time. Then he disappeared," said O'Donnell.

Instead of freaking out, he took matters into his own hands. "I had to run back to the hotel and start pulling ingredients. Can you imagine how awkward that felt?" He flourishes under these conditions, seemingly happy to survive in order to tell the story. "The worst day ever was cooking in 114-degree weather for 14 hours in Vegas. In the middle of a desert. In a tent. On a slanted hill. Oh, and the kitchen was on wheels," he deadpanned.

The show day excitement keeps him going even when the world around seems to be running him down. "It's the feeling that you get on your first day of work. It's like that every single day; it's a new job in a new place," he said seriously. "You have to adapt. Or you are gone."