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“First Graders Take Over The Waverly Inn (Chef John Delucie Held Captive)!”

As a first grader in elementary school in Queens, I think the most exciting field trip we took was to the New York Public Library. In preparation for our journey to Manhattan, I seem to remember an enforced buddy system (in my mind pairing up just meant we’d get snatched in twos, which I thought was preferable to solitary kidnapping), piling onto a big old yellow school bus, and fighting to get the way-back rumble seats. It’s also altogether possible that this memory is a complete figment of my imagination and caused mostly by watching too many summer camp movies. In any case, the library was not that exciting to a six year old. I liked the lions out front and the fantastically gigantic staircase, but I was not all that into looking at books and learning more details about the Dewey Decimal System. (Yes, I am dating myself.)

 

First graders take over the Waverly Inn! Chef John Delucie's captivity caught on film! 

So when I heard that the first graders at PS 41 were taking a field trip to the Waverly Inn, for lunch and 20 Questions with Chef John Delucie, I practically fell off my chair. I went to the New York Public Library and these West Villagers were going to the Waverly? There are titans of industry who can’t get into the Waverly. And here a bunch of six year olds are getting in and getting lunch and a kitchen tour, too? Wow, I thought. Times have changed. I should’ve been born in 1999, not 1969.

So, yes. The Waverly Inn for a field trip. The visit was planned by the Waverly’s chef, John Delucie, a skilled journeyman who’s probably the least known cog in the Waverly Wheel. One day maybe someone will take note of the food. It’s really simple, and honest and quite good. But I guess it’s hard to see past Anne Hathaway and Jessica Simpson to a flaky chicken pot pie or a plate of Brook Trout, even if it is damn good Brook Trout and the most delicious pot pie.

Now, aside from being the guy who serves the famous people dinner every night, John’s a big fan of supporting programs that teach kids about food—where it comes from, what the seasons mean, how to make it taste really good. He’s a chef-teacher for Share Our Strength’s Operation Frontline, a groundbreaking nutrition-education program that connects families with food by teaching them how to prepare healthy, tasty meals on a limited budget.

“It really grounds you to be around kids,” he said, explaining why he favors programs that focus on children. “You know in this business, you can get, I don’t know, a little disillusioned and this just brings you right back to earth. They love to come here, and they love to ask questions. It gives them other options in their career. Other than doctor or lawyer. And you know what. They’re so honest. That’s what I really love about them.”  

John is also deeply involved in the youth of the local West Village community, which brings us to the adorable group of first graders from P.S.41 (6th Avenue and 11th Street) that piled into his restaurant last week for a morning session called “20 Questions.”

I wonder what the odds are of getting a reservation here for Friday night for me and Jessica?

The field trip was actually part of the first grader’s restaurant-based curriculum. No joke. These kids study restaurants. (I’ll be teaching them about writing restaurant reviews in the coming months.) “Our curriculum is divided between two themes—parks and restaurants,” explained Jamie Ruah, the first grade teacher who commands their attention with a series of rhythmic musical claps. “We teach kids about life by teaching them about restaurants. They learn how to write by writing restaurant reviews, they learn about math, and why restaurants are important to the communities. They get a sense of different cultures and foods and how these restaurants give us jobs and provide a way to socialize.” Sounds pretty smart to me.  

Ms. Ruah and John, leading future generations of chefs

On a cold rainy morning last week a group of about 25 kids filled the coveted banquettes often reserved for the glowing starlets and anxious financial moguls. With feet swinging above the tiled floors and white toques of their own to wear, they were treated to a tour of the kitchen and lunch on what New York Magazine named the Best High-End Burger in the city. Smothered with a bubbly layer of white cheddar, and served with a side of skinny golden fries, it looked great. (I can’t seem to order anything other than the Dover Sole when I am there, but I’m gonna try it next time for sure.)

In between their kitchen tour and their lunch, they peppered John with questions, touching on everything from why he became a chef to rumors of the Waverly being haunted by ghosts.

Are there ghosts at the Waverly Inn?

But the most important question came first.  It was posed by a boy seated up front. He wore a striped polo shirt and had a sprinkling of freckles dotting his nose. From behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses, he asked his question with some urgency. “What’s the secret Waverly Inn phone number?” Cracking up, John explained that there was no phone number. “Why don’t you have a phone number?” another little boy with a toothless smile asked from a table behind him. Oh the dreaded Why.

“Well, it took a long time to build the restaurant and by the time we were ready to open we hadn’t had time to hook up the phone, and so we opened without one. And then we were pretty busy so we figured we didn’t need one,” he attempted to explain. Sensing that the children might have been sent on a mission from their parents, John assured the young gentlemen that their mothers could give him a call personally for a table. Mission accomplished.

Chillin with the ladies in the back room...

Other questions did touch on the activities of a chef: “Do you have a secret recipe?” another boy asked from across the room. “Yes, but if I told you it wouldn’t be secret anymore,” John replied. “Oh but pleeeeeze tell us. We promise not to tell anyone,” the boy said, clearly with fingers crossed. John didn’t budge. He’s a cool customer. Those kids were so cute, I’d have given them anything they wanted. Clearly, I will not be the disciplinarian.

Catching ghosts is endless fun...

“Chef, have you ever made a mistake?” a boy with a scratchy small voice asked while fidgeting with his toque. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t make a mistake,” John said, sincerely. “I try to keep them to a minimum, but it’s so busy here and so many people are ordering food, it’s hard not to make mistakes.” “What about ghosts?” a group of kids asked in somewhat unison. “Is this restaurant haunted?” Cue the screams and giggles. “I don’t know if we have ghosts,” John said. “I don’t think so, but I guess we’ll have to see.” This set off a series of conversations about ghosts and their lifestyle: “Ghosts only come out after midnight which is why you haven’t seen them,” explained one boy who stood up and seemed very sure of the ghost’s nocturnal clock. Another boy decided to make a ghost trap out of his napkin and declared the ghosts caught in moments. It was quite dramatic.

This hat's a little big on me, chef... 

Eventually the conversation got back to cooking, with kids peppering John with solid questions about his favorite food to cook (fish), his specials (driven by the seasons), and more in-depth questions like how he knows how much food to order (we estimate), and what led him to become a chef. “That’s a long answer,” John replied. “I’m Italian and I grew up with a lot of food all the time. My mother is a great cook and we were always around the table and in the kitchen. I loved food always. It brought us together.”

Does this chef hat come in other colors?

At this point, I even got to ask them a few questions, mostly about their favorite foods and what sort of meals they ate for dinner. I got a few spaghetti and meatballs, and some hamburgers, but pizza was highest on the list. They are six after all. I’m 38, and it’s high on my list, too.   

A young chef in the making...

After the kids finished lunch, and surrounded John for a group photo, Ms. Ruah clapped her hands, effectively getting their attention and lining them up. (This woman was good.) They marched out of the restaurant, giggling and skipping, leaving behind an eerily silent room littered with fries, ketchup-stained napkins and torn-off bits of sesame seed buns. It was only 11 am and I was exhausted. Oh, how I wished I could hop on a big yellow school bus for a ride home on the rumble seat.

Thank you chef!!!

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Posted: March 23, 2008

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