ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: WEDNESDAY, May 17, 1995                   TAG: 9505170039
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 8   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: ALMENA HUGHES FOOD EDITOR
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


CHEFS GOTTA DO WHAT CHEFS GOTTA DO

JOHN C. Schopp says there are two kinds of chefs: those who do it for the prestige, and those who enjoy reigning over the chaos and ultimate cohesion of a professional kitchen because it's like ``riding bareback on a stallion through a thunderstorm.''

Schopp, the Roanoke Jefferson Club's executive chef who on Sunday left to fill the same position at the prestigious Jefferson Club in Louisville, Ky., puts himself in the second category.

``Some chefs just have to be chefs,'' Schopp said recently at the club, leaning back, legs crossed, puffing on a fat cigar. With him was Bobby Simmons, his successor at the Jefferson Club. Simmons previously was manager of the Texas Steak House and Saloon. For him, too, it was excitement more than prestige that led to a chef's career.

Both men are 29 years old and both said they have wanted to be chefs since their pre-teen years. For Simmons, the realization came when he started helping his grandmother cook and bake. The path that has led him to the Jefferson Club began at age 13, when he got a job washing dishes in a restaurant in his native Bath County..

Simmons still washes dishes occasionally because it's good to show the kitchen staff he's not above the task, and because ``Sometimes you just do what needs to be done.''

Exactly what that is can be hard to describe.

``Even our parents don't understand what we do,'' Schopp said of his profession, which frequently demands 14- and 15-hour workdays, six or sometimes seven days per week, plus experimenting with foods at home and constantly trying to broaden culinary knowledge and skills.

Forget about a fulfilling social life. If he weren't married to his fifth-grade sweetheart, Karen, and if his 21/2-year-old son, Maxwell, weren't so sweet and understanding, and if he didn't have a private, quiet alter ego away from the workplace, Schopp's not sure how he would react to the pressure.

``There are extreme emotional highs and lows, continuous stress...the phone's ringing, you're cooking for 70 people, the directors need something... you've got four people all talking to you at once...the salmon you need for the party tonight didn't make the truck.''

And don't forget about having to laugh appreciatively even though it's the zillionth time someone has quipped, ``There are no calories in this, right?'' (wink, wink!). Or the affront of being raked over the coals for that one unsatisfactory meal but never stroked for the 999 successes.

Are there ways to relieve the stress?

``I beat up a big styrofoam box yesterday,'' said the unmarried Simmons.

``And a few weeks ago I tried to open a few cans against the wall,'' Schopp added.

But it's all part of the rush of a profession that is by no means all bad.

Over the years, the men say they've met government dignitaries, celebrities, business executives and some pretty terrific everyday people. Schopp's three years at the 690-member private Jefferson Club have also been filled with what he calls ``small satisfactions:'' personally cutting up foods for a blind member, creatively filling vegetarian, low-sodium, kosher and other special-order requests, and encouraging members to be imaginative in their ordering to take advantage of the prepare-from-scratch credo that Schopp adheres to and that Simmons plans to continue.

To both chefs, sharing their culinary knowledge with the kitchen staff and with the community at large is as important as satisfying club members' foods needs.

``To me it's more rewarding to take a dishwasher who's a poor reader and teach him how to become a strong line cook," Schopp said. "He'll probably never be a chef, but he'll have a good career and a path."

Among many involvements, Schopp regularly participates in high school career days and is on the culinary review board for William Fleming High School's culinary arts program. Because of his civic mindedness, May 11 was proclaimed John C. Schopp Day by Roanoke mayor David Bowers.

``Next to the birth of my son, that was probably the greatest day of my life,'' Schopp said of the surprise ceremony held for him at the club last Thursday.

``I definitely think the chefs need to rally more behind community involvement - things like cooking for the homeless and in soup kitchens ,'' Simmons said.

He said he intends to work closely with fellow members of the American Culinary Federation Southwest Virginia Chef's Association to try to raise the visibility of chefs along those lines.

He said he's not planning drastic changes for the club, although he is experimenting with using some infused oils and flavor crystals. And he did hire as his new sous-chef Chris Beerman, formerly of Carlos on the Roanoke City Market and a graduate of Johnson & Wales Culinary School.

Beerman is one of those people who has that special spark, Simmons explained.

In other words, he's a "bareback on a stallion" kind of chef.



 by CNB