The Ocean Room: KBCC’s Student Restaurant – The Bite

Welcome back to The Bite, Sheepshead Bites’ weekly column where we explore the foodstuffs of Sheepshead Bay. Each week we check out a different offering from one of the many restaurants, delis, food carts, bakeries, butchers, fish mongers, or grocers in our neighborhood. If it’s edible, we’ll take a bite.

Welcome to the 25th edition of The Bite. It’s been great eating around the neighborhood, seeking out the new and unusual, stuffing my face with the great and not so great, all to edify you, our dear readers, about the wonders of eating in Sheepshead Bay. I hope I’ve expanded our culinary horizons as much as I’ve expanded my belly.

For the 25th edition of The Bite, I’m going to break tradition and throw out the one dish rule. I’m still going to tell you about a wonderful neighborhood gem, but in a whole new way. This week, The Bite explores the birth and, sadly, the demise of a restaurant.

Enter The Ocean Room, Kingsborough Community College’s Culinary Arts Program’s weekly, student-run restaurant. Oh, don’t worry, The Ocean Room will return in the fall. You’ll get your chance. Maybe. It is by invitation only, after all.

In The Ocean Room, students learn what it takes to run a restaurant. Every Friday, aspiring culinarians throw open the doors to roughly 100 guests for lunch, so that they can put the theoretical into action. Does all that shtick in the classroom translate to the real world? It’s time to put it to the test.

Jonathan Deutsch, Ph.D. associate professor of the Culinary Arts program, invited the staff of Sheepshead Bites to come and take on the students. What was Jonathan thinking? Inviting Sheepshead Bay’s most critical culinary swashbucklers to take on his students? If he was willing to sacrifice his kids to our slings and arrows, we were game. For three Fridays during the spring semester, we dragged our sorry asses over to the college to be guinea pigs for the students, all the while holding our snide comments to ourselves.

This week we’re going to focus on experiencing the birth of a restaurant and its inevitable growing pains as the students gain confidence and strength. Here, the students try to emulate a white table-clothed, sit-down, upscale restaurant. On the menu at each visit is a three-course lunch, prepared and served exclusively by the students.

On our first visit, the nervousness of the students was palpable. You could feel it and you could taste it. Our waitress could barely speak to us, unable to raise her voice, out of fear, above a whisper. Other staffers were more comfortable, all were immaculately and identically dressed, and all practiced the same stances and moves.

These folks were trying, but they were learning the ropes. One waitress began to refill my water glass, but did it from the “wrong” side. Frankly, I didn’t notice, until she stopped mid-pour to apologize. The waiters and busses hovered. Plating was often incorrect, with saucers being used as bread or dessert plates and butter knives offered instead of proper knives. Service was clumsy, and our hostess checked on us too often.

By the second visit, about three weeks later, the restaurant had transformed. The white table cloths were there, as was the same front of the house staff, but this time we were treated to a buffet. There was a noticeable improvement in the wait staff. Maybe it was the reduced pressure, since the buffet would allow guests to serve themselves, but I think it was something more. The nervousness was gone. This time the smiles seemed real and the staff much more relaxed.

Our third and last visit, took place one week before the semester ended. The buffet was gone, and the white table cloths, sit down, upscale restaurant returned. This time the staff was really being put to the test as department heads from around the campus dined with us. The kids, however, were really up to the task. They were comfortable and secure. Laughs came easily, while the service was much more mature and polished. These guys and gals knew what they were doing. We were greeted as old friends by the hostess and the waiters. Now, this was a place I would love to frequent.

But what about the food? Well, that progressed as well. At each meal we were offered our choice of three appetizers, three main courses and two or three desserts. Luckily there were enough of us to try and share everything each time.

It was interesting to watch which dishes survived, intact, from week to week and which were new adaptations. One dish, a red lentil, cranberry, bacon and goat cheese salad remained on the menu each week. It was a personal favorite. A super sweet pecan coated chicken, morphed into fried chicken, Maryland fried chicken (fried chicken with bacon and gravy) and finally into a Vietnamese-style chicken with noodles dish. Each meal had an offering of sandwiches.

Our first visit provided us with deli sliders (cold cuts on small rolls). At later meals, an outstanding in-house cured gravlax with pumpernickel bread competed with a corned beef Reuben with a very spicy sauce on rye. Fancier dishes appeared for our last visit, grilled lamb chops with a clinatro sauce being the star.

Some dishes succeeded spectacularly, like the gravlax (I want to take that course), others failed miserably, with the Maryland fried chicken being served woefully undercooked. But at each meal, the back-of-the house service progressed. Meals got better every time.

The desserts at each meal were simply fantastic right out of the gate. Apple tarts, chocolate chip cookies, short breads, cream puffs filled with ice cream and smothered in chocolate sauce, berry tarts, strawberry tarts — everything was great. At one meal we were treated to a tray of chocolates, which were made by the students under the supervision of Michael Rogak of Jomart Chocolates. Outrageous.

The one consistent star of the program was the bread. The rolls that were offered at every meal shined from day one. Whomever is leading the baking program at KBCC is doing a fantastic job.

As the program wound down, and we experienced our last visit, I was a little sad. The Ocean Room restaurant was about to close its doors for the semester, just as it hit its stride. We stepped out from behind the invisible wall, and introduced ourselves to the staff and told them to expect this piece. We got to meet the students who cooked for us. By now, the wait staff had become old friends. I wish we could have revealed our secret identities sooner, as I want to know these folks. I know I will in the future, as they take their places in the kitchens around Brooklyn.

So, there you have it. The Kingsborough Community College Culinary Arts program’s Ocean Room restaurant. Real people producing and serving real food to real people. I can’t think of a better education.  Thanks for letting us take part.

Full disclosure time…

Sheepshead Bites does not take freebies, givebacks or bribes. We pay our own way. Kingsborough Community College does not charge diners for the restaurant program, so we weren’t treated any differently than other guests. However, Sheepshead Bites did make a monetary donation to the program.

Also, we here at The Bite strive to preserve our anonymity amongst the food community of The Bay. While Dr. Deutsch was aware of who we were, and that we planned on reviewing the program, the students and staff were not.

Now, the best part. Here are photos of the dishes we sampled, taken by Erica Sherman.