The Coconut Chicken Chronicles

Over ten years ago the Navy launched the Adopt-A-Ship Program, which sends civilian chefs to ships at sea and naval bases to train cooks in the finer points of the culinary trade. The program's stated goal is to elevate Navy food "to the next level." From June 2003 through September 2007 some 400 chefs participated in the program, providing over 75,000 hours of training for nearly 5,000 Culinary Specialists (CSs), the Navy's designation for cooks and other food service personnel. Most of the chefs have no military background and all are volunteers.

I am one of those chefs. Most of the year I teach at a non-profit culinary training facility in the San Francisco Bay Area but in 2007 I had the opportunity to participate in the program twice: a week at the Navy Support Activity-Panama City Beach, Florida, and a week on board the USS Higgins (DDG-76) as it steamed from Pearl Harbor to San Diego. Those two assignments taught me that the program is much more than teaching CSs a few tricks of the trade.

NSA-Panama City Beach

In May 2007 the Navy asked me to teach the CSs knife skills, measuring skills, and to look for "teachable moments" to improve the quality of the food in the general mess at the NSA-Panama City Beach.

Culinary Specialist First Class Steven Shrum met me at the airport. On the way to the base I learned that he had been cooking professionally twice as long as I had, and that the Navy had sent him to the well-respected Johnson and Wales University, where he obtained a degree in culinary arts. My angst increased when we went into the galley. I wasn't expecting the equipment to be that different from the standard commercial type I was used to.

"We have the same equipment as you would find on a ship," CS1 Shrum said. "That way, any CS is as at home on a base as in a galley."

What that meant was that there were no pots and pans (they fly around on a ship) but plenty of steam kettles, which I had never worked with before.

My luggage arrived seven hours after I did, so it was with little sleep that I started with 20 CSs the next morning. I went right into my "cooking with passion" speech on how humans eat not just to nourish their bodies but to restore their souls as well.

"Sailors will share their pictures from home with each other, and read letters from their kids and spouses over your food," I told my new students. "They will talk with their fellow Sailors about who will win the Navy-Army game, and celebrate the big and small events of their life over your food." The talk ended with me saying "The meal you make and serve could be someone's last. Cook it with passion and serve it with pride."

This caused a long moment of silence and then someone said, "Gee, maybe I should pay more attention to what I do in the galley so the food will be better."

I had been warned by Ray Walsh, the food service officer (FSO), that there were two young Sailors who had been in the galley a long time but had not done any cooking, working instead in the supply rooms. I proposed an Iron Chef tournament in which the two would compete preparing prime rib. In these contests, cooks are given the same ingredients and challenged to prepare a better meal than their opponents. In this instance, the two untried Sailors would have to cook a meal for six people that would include not just the prime rib, but also two side dishes, a non-lettuce salad, and a dessert. Judging was to be on taste, presentation, and creativity. The FSO upped the ante by inviting the base commander and his executive officer to be the judges.

The competition went, to be frank, so-so. Most disappointing was the lack of creativity in presentation and the fact that the entire galley was trashed. However, the CO was so impressed that he asked to have the two CSs do it again the next day—and, by the way, he liked banana cream pie. Even I could figure out that this was a command, not a suggestion. After the judges left I took the two CSs aside and explained that two key things separate amateurs from professionals: presentation and keeping your workstation clean while you cook.

The next day's battle was judged by four officers and included a roast chicken with citrus glaze served with fried okra and creamy garlicky mashed potatoes and two fairly good banana cream pies. The FSO indicated he might incorporate this plate into his food rotation. I later heard that the CO requested that these competitions be done on a monthly basis.

The CSs in Navy galleys not only prepare the food but also serve it on the chow line. I worked with one of the young Sailors on his customer service issues. I told him, "Whether you like the Sailor you are serving or not isn't important. Whether he is nice to you isn't important. What is important is that this may be his last meal and part of what makes dining pleasurable is being treated well. You must treat each person well."

USS Higgins (DDG-76)

On Monday, 24 September, I boarded the Higgins, an Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer, in Pearl Harbor, destination San Diego. The ship was named for Marine Colonel William R. Higgins, captured and executed in Lebanon by Islamic militants in 1990, which explains its motto: "USS Higgins sails with the heart of a Sailor and the soul of a Marine." I was concerned that with the ship returning from deployment with 75 Tigers—family and friends of the crew on board as guests—no CS would be interested in learning or working extra hours. I could not have been more wrong.

At noon we got under way, along with the nuclear-powered carrier USS Nimitz (CVN-68), a frigate, two other destroyers, and a supply ship, the USS Rainer (AOE-7). When the ship's prow poked into the Pacific I went to the galley. Three hours later the CSs served oven-roasted pork with fresh Asian peach sauce, shrimp chow mein, coconut chicken, mango and papaya salsa, and pineapple boats. One of the many thrills of the trip was having a Sailor come up to me and say "Chef, I've been in the Navy for 17 years and I've never seen coconut chicken on a ship. Thanks!"

After dinner on Tuesday I started the first of three days of Iron Chef competitions featuring pears, shrimp, carrots, and mangoes. I was pleasantly shocked when all eight of the available CSs volunteered. I took four and set up two teams. The results were incredible—far beyond what I imagined. The skipper of the Higgins, Commander Winton Smith, and several senior officer and enlisted leaders, judged the contest using detailed score sheets that awarded points in ten categories. The result was a tie! Handshakes, congratulations, and requests to do it all again swept the room. The evening ended on an amusing note: I walked onto the mess deck and two Sailors were playing the board game Battleship! Seemed like a seafaring variation on a busman's holiday or carrying coal to Newcastle.

The next night saw a three-team Iron Chef tournament featuring steak, rice, Butterfingers (yep, the candy bar), olives, and mangoes. There were three times as many people in the audience then there were on the first competition. One of the dishes, a mango sauce made by CS Clyde Manley, was used the next day for the Steel Beach Barbecue on the flight deck!

The following day saw the last Iron Chef tournament, which was supposed to feature the winners of the previous nights' competitions. However, one person was not available because of other duties. CS Manley raised his hand: "Chef, I didn't win, but you need another person. I would be honored to volunteer." How could you not like working with Sailors like that? I made it quite difficult, choosing as theme ingredients eggplant, kiwi, tenderloin of beef, and cubed pork.

There were over 100 spectators. Commander Smith again led the judging. At the end of the event I made him an Honorary Chef and presented him with his very own chef's hat, which he now wears during his frequent galley visits to serve food to the crew. It was fun to reciprocate for NSA-Panama City Beach making me an Honorary Culinary Specialist First Class.

The next to last day started with several of the CSs asking me if I would talk with them about culinary schools and how to increase their training. After a lengthy conversation we parted. A few hours later two came back and told me that they had talked with the re-enlistment officer on board and devised a strategy that would have the Navy send them to culinary school as part of their reenlistments.

Later that day, about six of the CSs asked if I would teach them garnishing and presentation techniques for the mess lines. We started at 1900 with me telling them never to serve anything that you wouldn't want to eat yourself, and showed them lousy chunks of brown lettuce and huge slices of cucumbers on the evening's salad bar. Someone said that you can't be fast and have the food look good. I challenged everyone to a speed race on properly slicing a cucumber. Before anyone else had done eight or ten cuts I had done 32. It was 33 that got me, a deep wound in my finger.

The CSs were amused; I was mortified. A young CS tried to give me an out by saying that the ship had rocked. I decided to make it into a lesson not only for the galley, but also for life. I told them it was my own damn fault. I explained that when you make a mistake don't gin up lame excuses—just laugh at the mistake and move on. At 2000, 2100, 2200, and 2230 I offered to stop the lesson so they could clean up and get to their bunks since they had to get up at 0400 to start breakfast. They begged me to stay and we worked until 2300. I chided myself for my initial worries about a lack of willingness to learn.

After dinner on the last night, I spoke individually with each one of the culinary specialists and told them how proud I was to work with them. We discussed how they could take their strong points and make themselves better and what to do to improve their weak points. Later Commander Smith read his Bravo Zulus over the P.A., giving particular attention to the work of the culinary specialists. I walked into the galley a few minutes later and all the CSs were standing taller and, much to my pleasant surprise, cleaning the equipment with a zeal and pride that I had not seen all week. I was thrilled and honored to be invited to rejoin the Higgins when it puts back to sea in early 2008.

Anchors Aweigh

The Adopt-A-Ship program, from my perspective, accomplishes several things, including (a) enhancing the morale of everyone on the ship or base, (b) increasing the spirit, passion and pride of the CSs in what they do, (c) encouraging the CSs to re-enlist so they can continue their training, and (d) improving the quality of the food served to our naval personnel.

There is one other key aspect of the program: It is a terrific way for the Navy to show the average American what the modern Navy is about. When these volunteer chefs go back to their restaurants, schools, chef associations, and communities, they tell their stories and talk with pride about what the Navy is doing.