Chef Donald Link

On Bal Masqué, the backlash of taking over La Boulangerie, and finding clarity after Hurricane Katrina

by

Lucie Monk Carter

As one of New Orleans’ most recognizable chefs, Donald Link doesn’t find himself in the kitchens of Herbsaint, Pêche, Cochon, Butcher, or the newly acquired La Boulangerie too often these days. Instead, along with his business partner Chef Stephen Stryjewski, the Lake Charles native has dedicated himself to bettering his adopted hometown of New Orleans through the youth-oriented charitable efforts of the Link Stryjewski Foundation. On January 7, the foundation will hold its second annual Bal Masqué at the Orpheum Theatre, featuring a roster of guest chefs that includes Mario Batali of New York’s Babbo, Suzanne Goin of Los Angeles’ Lucques, and Paul Kahan of Chicago’s The Publican as well as live entertainment and a wealth of inspiration from the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Creole masked balls.

I sat down with Link recently to talk about the impact of the Link Stryjewski Foundation, the backlash to taking over a beloved French bakery, and the clarity he found after Hurricane Katrina. Find excerpts below.

On managing his restaurants:

It’s hard for Stephen [Stryjewski] and I both to get in the kitchens any more because they’re so busy, and I don’t want to be in the way. But every now and then I’ll go expo [expedite restaurant orders] a little bit and kind of watch what’s going on. I don’t want to micromanage—that’s a big big deal for me. I know what it was like as a sous chef to be running a kitchen and all of a sudden the chef decides they’re going to come in and expo, and you’re like, “But you’re not good at it any more!”

What happens is, with this many restaurants and this many employees, you start to lose time and time becomes this gold commodity. You can’t make more of it. Time is time. I asked Mario Batali once a long time ago, “How much are you in the kitchen?” And he goes, “I’m always in the kitchen.” It’s not saying that Mario’s physically in the kitchen; it’s more like, “My food and philosophy and ideas are always prevalent in what we do.” It’s really a balance.

On the Link Stryjewski Foundation:

I got to the point where I was on the road every week doing other people’s charities. And some of them, I think, were a little questionable about how much money they were actually giving and why they had [the charity]. So Stephen and I decided to look at what we thought was the greatest need in our community. Don’t get me wrong, there are tons of needs—but we chose to focus on the youth programs in the city. We were really impressed with Youth Empowerment Project and Kingsley House and their Head Start program in particular. From what we see around the city, there are tons of kids on the street and kids not having anywhere to go, and obviously that’s what leads them to the gangs and the violence. If they’re just out there and there’s nothing for them to do and no one looking out for them, that creates a lot of problems in the city, and at the root it’s a very dangerous thing. There are lots of ways to attack a problem. One is the cause and the other is treating symptoms. As you go along, there’s different levels where it gets worse. But it starts, I think, at a really young age.

Yes, we’re a restaurant, but I didn’t think that we automatically had to do a culinary-related charity. Besh is doing that and Emeril’s doing a great job too. Liberty’s Kitchen, Café Reconcile —t here are a lot of great organizations. Let those guys do what they do so well, and we’ll take it from another angle so that—you’re training somebody to cook and everything, but it’s good to get more people ready to be in a position where they can learn to cook and they can apply for jobs. If they don’t get to that point, they’re not going to be there to train anyway.

Lucie Monk Carter

On finding clarity after Katrina:

It was a jolt seeing people come into Herbsaint after we opened, five weeks after the hurricane, and how excited they were to have a restaurant. For all the restaurants that opened up, as they one at a time opened up, it was like a sign—everything was going to be all right, the restaurants are open. To see people hugging each other and connecting—you realize, man, it’s more than just a restaurant. This is a place where people gather for their birthdays, for the holidays, to meet with their friends, and meet with their neighbors.

It made it all clear to me: we’re all in this together. And that’s when we started trying to focus in on one cause and do more good for one than a little bit for a lot.

On Bal Masqué:

I was inspired by this book called The World That Made New Orleans: From Spanish Silver to Congo Square, where they talked about the old balls in the 1700s and 1800s. I thought, that’s great, man. We should think about that kind of old Creole masked ball and go with that theme. It’s Twelfth Night, it’s Mardi Gras, it’s fun. Obviously a lot of people come to New Orleans then. It’s hard for somebody that’s not from here to really get into a ball and to experience the whole experience. So this is a way, I think, to make it more national and less local. To expand what we’re doing to a national audience.

The Orpheum is gorgeous and beautiful. The music we have lined up is fantastic. And then these chefs that are coming are the best in the country and friends of mine. For a long time, there weren’t a lot of events in New Orleans that brought in that kind of out-of-town talent. This was an opportunity to bring that to New Orleans and get New Orleans to look more like an international city as opposed to just a city in the South.

It’s a great party; it’s an intimate party. That was a decision we had to make. Do we throw this giant party and have thousands of people and put on this major production? Or do we keep it small and intimate and somewhat exclusive? I know not everybody can afford the ticket price [$1000], but the point here is to make money for the charity. We’re working on some other events that are more accessible to everybody, but I don’t want to get confused as to what the actual goal here is. It’s to raise money.

On the impact of charity:

When you go and see where the actual need is, you understand the need to raise money. It’s not just a party. The party’s great, and I think we throw amazing parties. But when you go—and I’d love to see everybody that goes to this event and donates money to go see some of these places that we’re giving money to and see how much impact it really makes.

On branching out from his current restaurants:

I’d love to do Chinese food. I spent six years in San Francisco, working and cooking. I started doing it as a hobby out there—having dim sum parties. I just fell in love with it. I love Chinese food. I’ve always wanted to do a Chinese restaurant. The right chef, the right time maybe; but I just think people would think it’s weird that I was doing a Chinese restaurant. I’m just selfish. I want one to eat that—there’s not that much here and not uptown for sure.

Everyone’s complaint about New Orleans has always been, “How many French bistros do you need to have in one city? How many poboys can you really eat?” I mean, they’re great. But when you live here it’s like, “You know what would be good? Some good Chinese food would be great.” Luckily we have Vietnamese food. But some Indian, some curry, some good Thai restaurants. There’s not much of a selection on those fronts. That’s what I like to eat. I mean, I do all this for a living, and I love it. But man, I’d like to go somewhere else to eat too.

On the backlash to taking over La Boulangerie:

James Carville told me this joke, ‘cause he comes into Boulangerie and he saw all the backlash. He goes, “Donald, how many New Orleanians does it take to change a lightbulb?” I said, “I don’t know, how many?” He goes, “It takes five. One to change it, and four to complain how the other one was better.”

I love the Boulangerie. I knew that guy when he opened it. But it’s his place. I’m not French, and I can’t make myself French. No matter how hard I try. I don’t want to take away the soul of Boulangerie. I just want to make it ours eventually. I like windows, and I’d like it to be brighter.

I didn’t do that for money, and those were the comments that really hurt my feelings. Like somehow I was going to “clean up” at the Boulangerie. Come on, I’m selling bread. I’m not going to clean up. I mean, hopefully the place will be a good investment over time, but this was not an “I’m going to make a fortune” kind of deal. For God’s sake, why would you buy a bakery if that’s what you wanted to do?

I anticipated some reaction, but not quite the reaction I got. It’s hard when you get called out by name. “Donald Link ruined the Boulangerie. Donald Link moved the coffee pot.” All these brutal attacks. I’m not going to go take over any beloved bakeries again, I’ll tell you that.

On New Orleans’ relationship to its chefs:

I think what’s interesting—and always have thought was interesting about New Orleans—is how many chefs own their restaurants. In other cities, that’s not usually the case. They’re usually paid chefs. Even a lot of celebrity chefs don’t own their own restaurants, and they’re working for someone else. Whereas here, it’s a community of chefs. That’s Susan’s place. That’s Alon’s place. That’s John Besh’s place. That’s Donald and Stephen’s place. There’s not always a name attached, but more so than other cities. I think that makes it a community.

Find details and tickets for Bal Masqué (and the January 6 preview dinner with Chef Mario Batali) at balmasque.linkstryjewski.org.

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