Josie Le Balch
Photo: courtesy of Josie Restaurant
Chef Josie Le Balch grew up in a restaurant kitchen. Her father was chef Gregoire Le Balch, owner of the fabled Chef Gregoire Restaurant in the San Fernando Valley, and creator of one of the first French cooking schools in Los Angeles. While other kids were eating In-N-Out Burgers, Josie was considering the virtues of bouillabaisse and cassoulet, and her salad days were spent stirring the stock pot. It's an experience reflected in her own kitchen, at her own self-named restaurant on a busy crosstown street in Santa Monica.
Merrill Shindler: What was it like growing up in a restaurant family?
Josie Le Balch: It was the family business – I was always there, my whole family was always there. My father cooked at home as well, he was always home on Sunday nights, when we'd have big wonderful family meals. Dad loved to cook on a hibachi at home, a tiny grill you couldn't fit anything on. But he said those were the best meals he'd ever cooked. It was an early lesson that, though high-tech equipment is nice, it's the skill of the chef that matters. No matter how expensive the cooktop, if the chef doesn't have what it takes, it won't make a difference.
MS: I assume everyone wanted to have dinner at your house.
JLB: Actually, none of my friends wanted to eat at my house. My father grew everything in the backyard. He was always picking dandelions from the yard for our salad. I remember sitting in the front yard with my two girlfriends, and my dad was pruning the roses. And he began to nibble on the rose petals. My friends were so grossed out. It's funny – my dad was such a great chef, but my friends were scared of what he'd cooked for them.
MS: What was your first real job in your father's restaurant?
JLB: I was 14. Our dishwasher didn't show up. So I began my life in restaurants washing pots and pans. I did that for months. Then, the sauté chef didn't show. So I went from dishwasher to sauté chef just like that. It wasn't that big a jump – there were only three people in the kitchen.
MS: So you became a cook just by being available?
JLB: I learned by doing. My dad had a cooking school at the restaurant on the days it was closed for meals. It was the best way for me to spend time with him – at the family business. I adored my father. But like most chefs, he was never home. So if he couldn't be home with me, I was determined to be at the restaurant with him. If I wanted to hang out with my dad, I had to do it while working at the restaurant. My favorite days at school were Monday and Tuesday mornings, when he taught classes in French cooking and techniques. I remember a woman said to me, "You have no idea how lucky you are – people are paying to spend a couple of hours with your dad, and you can do it every day." That turned a light on for me; it was a revelation. At that moment, I realized I wanted to do what he did. I was there all the time.
MS: Some kids learn how to kick a soccer ball from their dad – you learned how to keep a sauce from curdling.
JLB: I learned all my technique from my dad. My father was very regimented – he had his book of recipes, he was French, everything had to be done in a certain way, sauces had to be ready.
MS: But that's not how you cook today. You're one of the icons of Californian–New American cooking.
JLB: After years with my father, I got the chance to apprentice with Wolfgang Puck at the original Ma Maison. And it turned my world upside down. Wolf would look in the fridge to figure out what he was going to make that day. He didn't really know until he opened the walk-in door, and saw what was there. This was in a major restaurant, one of the most famous restaurants in America. It was completely the other side of the restaurant world for me. And it freed me so much. We looked to see what was available, and then started to create.
MS: Is your father in the kitchen with you when you cook today?
JLB: I learned haute cuisine from my dad. And I also learned how to work in the haute cuisine kitchen, the classic kitchen configuration. I'm very glad I had that background – not many do. My dad had a very small kitchen. Basically, it was a line and refrigeration – very simple, very basic and very effective. I like a design where I can see what everyone is doing in front of me. I can stay on the line, and I can jump in anywhere. I still cook my father's recipe for black peppercorn sauce in the Le Cordon Bleu skillet he used at Chef Gregoire. It's my Proustian cookie. I taste that sauce, and I'm a little girl again.
– Merrill Shindler