SPIRIT kept sending me messages about a food career, but...I am a slow learner.
Episode 1 - Background leading up to my foodie career and The MONETIZATION CHEF
Hi, Cottage Foodie,
Imagine this scene:
Colorful red and green decorations everywhere, and Christmas music saturating the air. A Hallmark store across the hallway to the left, a quaint little café serving homemade egg muffins and hamburgers, to the right.
It’s mid-November 2002, and I am on pins and needles. Sandy and I are sitting in the middle of the large indoor hallway at the Palouse Mall in Moscow, Idaho – a university town where I attended college in the late 70s and into the 80s.
OFFICIAL START of my FOOD BUSINESS!
We’d just finished setting up our booth for a six-week holiday show at a cost of $2500! ($4250 in today’s dollars.) We were wholesaling goodies from about 35 Idaho specialty food makers, plus our new BarbieQ sauce.
Sandy is running the cash register. I am sitting behind an 8’ table covered with a black Palouse Mall logo tablecloth. Stacked next to me are cases of 12-pack, 12-oz bottles. A few bottles are on the table. Sitting next to them is a small bowl of shiny “Idaho Redneck BarbieQ Sauce” and a flatish serving bowl of Fritos corn chips, to tempt passersby.
A fit, tallish man, mid-20s with scruffy whiskers and a tan cowboy hat is the first to come by. He politely stops in front of me, doing the browsing drill like you might find today at Costco (or your Farmers Market table).
“Welcome to our booth!” I say, cordially. “Would you like to try our new barbecue sauce? Just made it last week at the University of Idaho Food Technology Center in Caldwell.”
The expression on his face is a bit like “Oh God, not ANOTHER barbecue sauce.” But he dutifully grabs a Frito, dips into the sauce bowl, and steps out on his way as he puts the chip to mouth.
He stops DEAD in his tracks at the second step.
As he stands there, I see him running his tongue around his lips (and I suspect his pupils are dilated). He stays in that position for a moment savoring our sinfully-rich molasses and brown sugar simmered sauce. Then he quickly turns back to the table, and picks up a bottle to read the label.
“Pretty good,” he says, a bit begrudgingly.
He buys two bottles and is on his way.
We’d made our first sale, at what turned out to be a VERY successful holiday show, just under $20,000 in sales ($34K in today’s dollars), including 13+ cases of our 12-pack, 12 oz sauces.
Isn’t THIS why we do what we do as “food crafters”?
Sure, we enjoy our own creations, and our family and friends also benefit, right? And, the money can be good.
But don’t we live a richer life when we tickle the tastebuds of future friends we just met? And turn them into raving fans and customers who feed our conversations and our household income?
This above story was the successful retail launch of my own serious journey as a food entrepreneur in 2002. But … it took a long time to finally get there. Decades, actually.
Here begins my foodie backstory…
My passion for all things caloric began very early. (I wish I’d listened to my inner voice back then.)
I grew up on a small, irrigated farm south of Nampa, Idaho that my dad bought in 1959, when I was three (yes, I am that old!).
My Dad had followed two younger brothers out to Idaho from a square mile he’d farmed just east of Underwood, North Dakota. And of course, Mom, my older half-brother, and younger sister came along too. (Another sister added a year later.)
While most male farm kids eagerly follow Dad around, learning to milk cows, buck hay, drive the tractor, and fix engines, my passion was different.
I did lots of those too (forced farm child labor, lol.) But every chance I got, I was standing on a chair next to the kitchen stove, parked where my mom (Eileen) spent a large part of every day building her culinary creations to feed the family.
Mom was the oldest of nine kids (pre-birth-control era), growing up during the Great Depression in a Lutheran community north of Bismarck, ND. She spent a lot of her formative years cooking and helping raise her siblings, while my grandma kept pumping them out.
As a result, Mom (before she was Mom) became THE household’s master meal-maker. In fact, she was known far and wide throughout her life (passed in 2016) as one of the best home-style cooks you would find anywhere.
Good fortune smiled on me (and my siblings) as she was our mentor for all things delicious.
(Did YOU benefit from a mentor to fertilize your culinary life? I assume if you are reading this, you got the bug from somewhere or somebody.)
I learned very young about specialty desserts, pie-making, cakes, COOKIES, noodles, chicken casseroles, and savory comfort delights — many German. (Mom’s maiden name was Johannes.)
My favorite was, and is, an extended family signature: sour cream cookies. Sort of a very light, tender sugar cookie, with the lip-smackin’ tangy ambience of sweetened sour cream mixed with flour.
The dough was out of this world. Mom would often make me go into the living room, or half the batter ended up in my tummy.
Another fav was old-fashioned pork scrapple, reportedly brought to the US via the Pennsylvania Dutch (according to the primary book on the subject.)
Our recipe was simple: fresh ground pork, cornmeal, oatmeal, salt and pepper, cooked up for hours into a porridge. Then frozen into bread pans, unloaded and wrapped. Then taken out of the freezer one loaf at a time for slicing, and frying until a deep brown skin formed on both sides. Slapped on top of buttered sourdough toast and/or with runny eggs…OMG! Some family members even poured on maple syrup.
Anyway, I am getting a bit off topic. But I want you to know I come by my passion for delicious foods honestly.
As I went through elementary school, I continued to hobby cook at home — mostly with desserts. My specialty was chocolate chip oatmeal cookies (just call me “the Idaho dough boy”, baking optional.)
Photos of me in first grade, I was of average build and weight. But by the 4th grade, pictures show me as stocky or ‘short for my weight’ (…chubby, sigh). A trait that continued into … well, today actually.
If you should never trust a skinny chef, I am VERY trustworthy.
GROWING UP FOODISHLY
My Lutheran parochial school (1 thru 6) often held food contests at special events and I loved winning ribbons. (I promise, I did NOT beat up my younger sister when she sometimes won. Desire does not always lead to action😊.)
Our church always had potluck after service, and a monthly homemade ice cream social. I tried never to miss those.
And nothing kept me from having my fingers in dough. (Creepy smile!)
To help support the farm after I and my siblings were all in school, Mom eventually took a job in food service at Nampa’s ‘Idaho State School and Hospital’ for the developmentally disabled. Later she moved on to Northwest Nazarene College (now a University), also in Nampa, Idaho.
NNC had two openings at the time she was hired, but she was so efficient in the kitchen, they never filled the 2nd position.
Sometimes, for special events, a buddy and I would get part-time work in the kitchen/dining areas. This kind of work might not have been fun for teen boys full of hormones, but I loved it. (Not that we were attracted to the comely co-eds, or anything...)
Our farm cornered the Deer Flat National Wildlife refuge (Lake Lowell on the map), which enjoyed a diverse fishery, and parts were open to duck hunting. I spent a lot of free time chasing (then cleaning and cooking) bullheads, crappie, pumpkinseeds, and mallards. The low-fat nature of wild foods offered culinary challenges, which I loved to master (with Mom’s help).
MATH NERD RISING
Since I was heavy, and had a face made for radio, I was bullied a lot in school. Fortunately for my self-esteem, I became a notorious math nerd complete with slicked down hair, thick glasses, and high-water pants. (Maybe that contributed to the bullying...)
I maintained my success with numbers through high school (e.g. for the National Math Contest, I took 3rd in the State of Idaho my senior year). Also, I earned a 36/36 raw score on the math category of my college entrance ACTs, and was offered a math scholarship to just about any college I wanted.
Sadly, that was decades before girls liked genius nerds more than jocks.
SPIRITUAL LIFE CAREER PIVOT
But along the way, along with hunting and fishing, I’d developed a love for the outdoors, sort of my spiritual connection to Mother Earth.
As a result, I attended the University of Idaho and majored in Forestry. I believed this would best serve me for a connected career in the forests, rivers, and Rocky Mountains I loved.
(PS Foresters are trained professionals who manage timberlands, mostly for government agencies and corporate timber companies.)
But food stayed in my life. Even at college, while living in the dorms, I worked part-time in the Wallace Complex cafeteria. I was the “pots and pans guy” on my shift. I would jump over and help the dishwashing line whenever I caught up, earning high praise from supervisors.
I also volunteered to organize annual barbecues up to 200 people, for my College of Natural Resources. Too much fun, and I was successful at it.
And whenever I got a goodie box from home, I had to hide it or my dorm mates would congregate for Mom’s cookies, fudge, and homemade caramels.
But, even though food systems kept popping up in my life, I kept talking myself out of making that a career choice. I often found myself staring longingly at restaurant kitchens when out to eat.
Finally, in May 1979, I earned my BS degree in Forest Resources. The next day I married the pregnant girlfriend I’d dated for three years.
CAREER HIGHS AND LOWS
Then I went job hunting.
With several interviews lined up, I was beyond optimistic. The 1970s were THE boom years for the timber industry in much of the US. Especially the Pacific Northwest.
First two interviews went by, and for both I ended up 2nd choice.
Then the main guy who conducted my first interview called and left a message. I dialed back with great excitement!
(“That first applicant turned it down,” went through my head, excitedly.) I REALLY wanted THAT particular job, located in postcard-beautiful Priest Lake, Idaho!
Instead: “Hey, Mal. How is the job market for foresters looking? You got any leads? I just got laid off.”
This was 1979, with interest rates rising to nearly all-time records in the high teens.
Construction is an EXTREMELY rate sensitive industry, and as construction goes, so goes the wood/lumber industry. I feared a long-term recession was on the verge in my chosen profession.
The rest of my interviews were cancelled, and foresters quickly became dime-a-dozen. Wipeout.
So, there I was, a fresh college graduate and newbie husband with a pregnant wife, just as the lush job market I envisioned turned to dust, virtually overnight.
What’s a guy to do?
Ever experience dread — even panic — over your life choices? Or even what to do this week? Or TODAY?
In the next email, I will send the 2nd edition of what famed radio personality Paul Harvey, would call “The Rest of the Story…”. I share the ongoing journey of how I suffered through a scattered trail of failed (but mostly loveable) career stops, before food opportunity knocked again.
Tomorrow, my story will just reach the good part about a life you can relate to, as a foodie in business. (PS timeline is all pre-Cottage Foods.)
Until then, calorically yours,
Mal Dell, The MONETIZATION CHEF
Cooking UP Profits for Foodies!