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Christopher O’Harra Makes His Menu The Rhino Way

Executive chef, Christopher O'Harra from Flying Rhino on Shrewsbury Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

Every chef who has been in the weeds in a kitchen juggles fiery pots and pans. But Christopher O’Harra likes to juggle fire. Literally. This is not just a metaphor for what he has done on so many nights as executive chef at the ever-popular and bustling Flying Rhino Cafe on Shrewsbury Street. Christopher juggles fiery batons outside the kitchen and he has the YouTube evidence to prove it.

That said, it should come as no surprise what Christopher finds the most fun after twenty years in the business.

Executive chef, Christopher O'Hara in the kitchen at Flying Rhino on Shrewsbury Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)
Executive chef, Christopher O’Hara in the kitchen at Flying Rhino on Shrewsbury Street in Worcester, MA (Photograph by Alex Belisle)

“Any chef should love the craziness,” he says. “Four hours into crazy pushes where in the third hour you are ready to pull your hair out but it is all going smooth? That is a natural high. You get out of work and you are up for hours because you got crushed for four, five, even twelve hours but all the customers walked out happy and there were no issues? That’s an addicting high and why we are in the business.”

Hearing this Paul Barber, who with his wife Melina have owned and run Flying Rhino since it opened in 2000, smiles, “When he comes out on those days he is pumped. He screams, ‘Yeah.’ [Hulk-style] and asks for a shot of Southern Comfort.”

“If I come out to the bar and ask for a shot of SoCo,” Chris adds, “that’s my end of the night. That’s me being done and happy.”

I have heard similar refrains from chefs before, and I have noticed these chefs often have one thing in common with Christopher: They all started at the bottom of the restaurant ladder washing dishes. They are all also, like Christopher, among the most immensely likable chefs and have the deepest respect for the people who work for them, top to bottom: “If you don’t have respect for your dishwasher or the back room of any kitchen, you don’t have anything,” he says. “You can put out the best food in the world but if you don’t have the pots and pans and people whom you can rely on to get that stuff done? You’re done.”

Sure, Christopher later in his career did some culinary school training in continuing ed at Johnson & Wales. But with his experience, he found himself helping the other students more than he was learning. (He was once told by his instructor after showing a fellow student how to break down a side of fish to, “Get out of here and let me do my job.”) Christopher’s experience started in his hometown of Grafton, where he worked at a small delicatessen. The owner took a liking to him and taught him to make soups and sauces: “Customers would tell me how awesome the soup was or how fantastic this thing I made tasted. That’s where my passion for all this came from. Seeing and hearing people enjoying my food. It didn’t even have to be my recipe.”

Which is good experience to have when you take over an institution like Flying Rhino. The menu may change every six months but many dishes have long histories with guests who expect to enjoy them the way they always have. This doesn’t bother Christopher at all. He finds the same satisfaction at Flying Rhino that he had working that deli counter in Grafton.

First of all, he loves the food and says every week he eats four or more of the Rhino’s signature Ivory Tusk sandwich. (Christopher calls Paul Barber’s chicken-based take on a Philly cheesesteak “the simplest sandwich ever and when made properly fantastic.”)

Second of all, Christopher already knew what he was getting into; he is a boomerang employee: He served as executive sous chef at Flying Rhino for a couple of years starting in 2010. But seeking more normal hours to spend with his wife and their daughter, Alyssa, he got out of the restaurant business and took a corporate dining job with Sodexo. With Monday through Friday daytime hours and no nights and weekends, he could be there for his family.

Today, Christopher calls this professional period of his life, “a slow painful death.”

It wasn’t that it was a bad job, and he liked the people at the company. He also knew what he was getting into: He was a boomerang at Sodexo too, spending seven years there working his way up the ranks to run the corporate dining room at EMC in Hopkinton. But the corporate dining world was no place for a night guy. Those 5:00am starts were “terrible.” And creatively there was just nowhere to go. He realized he could balance family life with the right restaurant opportunity, and when Paul and Melina called and asked him to come back and run the kitchen, he jumped at the chance.

And even faced with a menu filled with staples, Flying Rhino does offer Christopher plenty of opportunities to play.

Case in point the People’s Choice Sticky Pork, so named because it took the People’s Choice Award at the 2015 Worcester Best Chef Competition: A shoulder cut down to fillets, slow braised in an intricate hoisin-based sauce with lots of citrus, given a little bit of heat from jalapeños, and then seared crispy and basted again until it gets a sticky glaze. In the original dish, the pork came with a zucchini pappardelle tossed with a sweet potato purée that Christopher thought would make a great sauce when spiked with a little wasabi. The most recent incarnation swaps chipotle for the wasabi – Asian with a Southwestern flair, which pretty much sums up Christopher’s approach to cooking: “As long as the flavors work for me that’s what makes me happy.”

The dish has also made customers happy and has stayed on the menu since it was introduced after the competition, something Christopher takes great pride in. Part of the dish even found new life on the latest menu. Finding himself with the need for a daily feature and a ton of that purée left over, he decided to throw it into some risotto and scallops and see what happened. The result was the Sweet Heat Scallops. An arugula and candied bacon salad dressed with bacon fat comes on the side. As he says, “How is that not good?”

But Christopher is quick to point out that while he takes responsibility for everything that comes out of his kitchen, the regular and featured menu items take a team effort in the kitchen to make them work “The Rhino Way.” For example, the “Number 3” grilled Korean barbeque beef short ribs were inspired by a Korean sous chef. The Zen Rice Bowl was inspired by a dish Melina had on a visit to Colorado. But inspiration is where the work begins: “We will take inspiration from anyone in the kitchen, and if we like it, we will try it ten times until we decide exactly what do with it. That’s how the dishes are born here,” Christopher says.

Inspiration can even come from the Rhino’s past: Case in point, the “Mushroomtopia.” Paul and Melina had requested the dish from the past be put back on the menu for the summer, but the original did not say summer to Christopher. So, he recreated it as a pan seared wild mushroom ravioli with pesto brown butter, asparagus, caramelized mushroom, and fresh tomatoes – a seasonal vegetarian dish that could easily be made meaty at the customer’s request.

And if there are some limits for Christopher’s creative impulses? He is still stretching his skills by learning the front of the house from Paul. That’s also where you’ll find the light of Christopher’s life, his daughter Alyssa, on the days she comes in. Despite an adorable picture of her picking parsley in the kitchen on the home screen of his phone, Alyssa prefers working with the bartender or checking in on tables in her apron and “Tusk” shirt.

“She loves coming in here,” Christopher says. And while he says he does it all for her, he knows he couldn’t do what he does without the love and support of his wife, Kelly. “She does it all. She allows me to do this 60 hours a week. I don’t even cook at home. She does.”

Clearly, whether at home or away, love or life, for Christopher O’Harra it all comes down to having the best team by his side.

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The Industry Chose Chef Bill Brady of Princeton’s Sonoma

Chef Brady Speaking at his restaurant, Sonoma, in Princeton, MA

Bill Brady, chef and owner of the acclaimed Sonoma Restaurant in Princeton, stands proudly at the front of his buzzing, gleaming, enormous kitchen that extends as far as the eye can see.

Chef Brady's staff and students at Sonoma in Princeton, MA
Chef Brady’s staff and students at Sonoma in Princeton, MA (Taken by Erb Photography for Mass Foodies)

Bill smiles at the energy and shouts final directions to his staff (at least those he can see) as they successfully break down from another crazy day of service. But that craziness hasn’t involved serving up plates of Sonoma’s timeless Roasted Rack of Lamb Persillade, a dish that has been on the menu since the restaurant opened in 1996. Nor would most of these kids know how to identify the Shishito Peppers that accompany Sonoma’s more contemporary Togarashi Tuna appetizer.

And that’s just fine with Bill. Because these are kids. We aren’t in his kitchen at Sonoma, which is the size of a closet compared to this behemoth. This is the kitchen at Worcester Technical High School (“The Voke”), staffed by dozens of the school’s culinary students. Service was for The Voke’s student-run Skyline Bistro, which opens to the public Tuesday through Friday.

Bill has been teaching at The Voke since shortly after the new campus opened in 2006, a move which brought his professional life full circle: He taught at the restaurant at Monty Tech (Montachusett Regional Vocational Technical School in Fitchburg) before the opportunity to open Sonoma presented itself. “I didn’t want to be one of those guys looking back saying, ‘I could’ve… I should’ve.’ I’d rather be one of those guys that said, ‘What the hell did I do that for?’” Bill says. “So, I left teaching and opened Sonoma with my wife Kim. But then this opportunity at The Voke presented itself and I thought, ‘I would like to do that again,’ because it is very gratifying.”

It also makes Bill the exception to the proverbial rule: he can do and teach. Though what he teaches at The Voke isn’t the brilliant upscale yet unstuffy fare that has had diners more than willing to make the 30-minute drive from Worcester for a generation.

Coffee-rubbed Wagyu beef with local porter molasses, poached egg in hollandaise sauce on top of a griddled crumpet (Taken by Erb Photography for Mass Foodies).
Coffee-rubbed Wagyu beef with local porter molasses, poached egg in hollandaise sauce on top of a griddled crumpet (Taken by Erb Photography for Mass Foodies).

“Here it is a building block menu for the kids,” he says. “The goal is to train them and be a feeder for the employers in the area. There is no elevator to success and they need to avoid thinking that way. If we can just teach them how to work then we have done our job. Who knows when you are 14 or 15 what you’re going to do for the rest of your life? These are high school kids; they don’t realize what this is all about when they start here. But if we can get them to dress nicely in this uniform and get them here ready to work and have the satisfaction of that work then we have done our job for the future.”

According to Bill, the result is chaos a lot of the time but so is life, especially life in the restaurant business, and Bill makes sure his students know they are getting real-life experience and situations. Along with department head Kevin Leighton, chefs Mike Fournier and Kim Youkstetter, and baker Dorothy Jean Rice, Bill teaches students to work as a team, the science behind the food, and the importance of health and safety as well as flavor. He knows many of these students can’t and may never make something like Sonoma’s tasty play on Steak and Eggs (coffee-rubbed Wagu beef with local porter molasses, griddled crumpet, and a poached egg with hollandaise). He also knows they may not want to. Not because they don’t have experience but because their experience with food is so different from his.

And Bill knows that’s a good thing – for him, them, and the future.

The Voke students are a diverse population many of whom never grew up eating let alone making a New England staple like the brown bread that the Leominster-born Brady did. So he teaches them, and in turn he learns about new flavors and dishes that inspire him to play with his food at Sonoma – something he and his staff love to do.  They love “unusual presentations for common food” like that Steak and Eggs or the torchon of foie gras served as push up pops. (When I had these at a Chef’s Best event for Mass Foodies, they pleased the kid in me and my actual kid eating next to me.)

Rack of Colorado Lamb coated in Dijon, rosemary, garlic, and parsley then rolled in fresh panko in a roasted demi-glace accompanied a side of mashed potato and a few stalks of asparagus and carrot (Taken by Erb Photography for Mass Foodies).
Rack of Colorado Lamb coated in Dijon, rosemary, garlic, and parsley then rolled in fresh panko in a roasted demi-glace accompanied a side of mashed potato and a few stalks of asparagus and carrot (Taken by Erb Photography for Mass Foodies).

This approach makes Sonoma a lot like the man who runs it: a mix of unusual flavors and perennial favorites. He knows, even with all the awards and acclaim, that you’re only as good as your last meal. “You have to constantly reinvent yourself,” Bill says. “We have to deliver what is expected, stay on trend, and play. I tell my chefs, ‘We can’t be on top of the wave. We have to be in front of it too. I want to see pictures of what we did months ago in magazines. Chasing that even though it is probably never attainable is what is most fun. Still we are always taking dishes off the menu because they feel off trend or tired and customers do not respond to them. But they can come back. It is like fashion.”

His customers and culinary students can be grateful Bill came back too. In 1986, he followed the Tall Ships from Newport to New York City for the relighting of the Statue of Liberty and stayed to work for a French chef on dinner yachts (a big reason he is perfectly comfortable in the tiny confines of Sonoma’s kitchen). That classic French training gave him the technique to adapt without compromise: “I feel we owe it to the customer to give them the finest and freshest. And all of us have to understand that. I would match any of my servers against most restaurants’ cooks. They need to answer to the customers. They know cooking techniques. That is the thing you can’t get out of a chain. You can’t get that passion.”

This is why you won’t see anything at Sonoma that Bill isn’t passionate about playing with. Molecular gastronomy? Nope. Foams? No way. He might play with sous vide down the road but going into Asian markets on Green Street or Indian markets in the area, grabbing something unfamiliar, and having some fun with what he finds makes him happiest.

“We do a lot of family or staff meals with different ingredients so we can bounce ideas off of each other,” Bill says, which is how dishes like the Korean Short Ribs have found a permanent home on the menu. As for what’s great to cook with? “I’ve always turned towards the ground and the farmers. They are going to tell me what’s what.”

Looking to the future, Bill sees more of the past: “I don’t know if I buy into the idea of new versus old and cooking. Everyone is talking about preserving meats but it’s not like we didn’t do that hundreds of years ago. We let the multinational companies make our hot dogs and bologna but now we want them back, even for artisan mortadella – the ‘deli of death.’”

Bill also feels responsibility to use the trust his customers have put in him to do more with what is available. He has featured hake – a sustainable fish – that is underutilized and only uses crowd pleasers like swordfish when “the time is right and the harvest is there.” Otherwise he is a prisoner to his menu: “I don’t want to have to serve tomatoes in January or kill off a species because it is on my menu. So I’ll play around with hake or a skate wing and see if my customers respond. This is where I think the trust part comes in. A lot of people come in who have never ordered something anywhere but at Sonoma, because we have built relationships and trust.”

That sense of trust and responsibility is what also drives his need to teach: “This industry chooses you, you do not choose it. If you are willing to give up nights, weekends, family time… it is all-encompassing. It takes over your life. But the satisfaction and gratification draws you back. You know immediately if what you have done has paid off either through oohs and ahs. You also know immediately when you’ve done something wrong.”

And when he looks around the kitchen at Sonoma and The Voke, guiding and letting himself be guided he looks forward to what’s next: “I claimed ‘global cuisine’ as my category when I opened in 1996 because it represented what we were doing. But to be honest it was one of the headings allowed in the Yellow Pages. Today, for these kids, everything is global. I don’t see that ever changing.”