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By Bruce Blackburn
Serving up an atmosphere of
eclectic elegance alongside dishes with unfettered flavors, Chris
Connors has created his own niche in the local fine dining scene.
Chef/owner Chris Connors is less a competitor on the local
fine dining scene and more of a co-collaborator. He's tall
and solid, with blue eyes, a brown goatee and close-cut hair
the same color—a likely winner in any contest of mano a mano
culinary combat. But Chris makes it clear that, for him, competing
isn't what it's all about.
"Lambertville is known as a dining destination—I think we all
help each other. I don't see other restaurants as competition; they
are more of a contributing factor to that good-dining reputation.
People appreciate what we're all trying to do."
Restaurant Zen
Anton's at the Swan, in Lambertville, NJ—also called
simply Anton's, or The Swan—is rich with dark woods and
antiques. It has a distinctively idiosyncratic atmosphere
created by original art and other, sometimes curious,
collectibles, and was designed by Jim Bulger, owner of the
building. Anton's occupies the ground floor of the stately
old Swan Hotel, a few blocks from the center of town.
Inside, the bar is a world of its own, and the restaurant
provides distinctive food that Chris likes to describe as
Innovative American Cuisine.
"I strive to stick with my artisan sense of cooking. I'm a
minimalist; I like to let things speak for themselves. It's that
tiny little thing that nobody can put their finger on that makes
the difference between what's good and what's great."
"We focus on using as many local and indigenous ingredients
as possible, but we infuse them with a global outlook."
A Thai dish is one of his most popular.
"The French-Asian blend has always fascinated me. They were
into fusion before anyone ever knew what it was called. I don't
try to do Thai or Indian food, but I like to bring in those and
other international elements."
"We have a lot to be proud of, all the synergy of nations.
We're blessed with the farm country, too, and I have a great
relationship with local resources. It's an exciting place to be
a chef. It's almost a Zen balance-using ingredients that grow
around you, then serving them back to residents."
He and his wife, Ursula, grow a little garden of their own at
their Baptistown, NJ, home, which provides the restaurant with
tomatoes, chili peppers and other vegetables.
Hit on the Head
Born in Orange, NJ, in 1963, he graduated from high school
in 1982 and stood at a classic crossroads: work or college?
That summer he hired on as a dishwasher to take over for
vacationing dishwashers at a local restaurant.
"It was classical continental cuisine, real old-school stuff.
It turned out the cook was leaving but his replacement didn't show.
The owner asked me, so I took the job of cook."
"He showed me the basics-in four weeks I was really taken
with it all, really hit on the head! That's when I started
thinking about cooking. I wanted to own a restaurant, but I
thought the best way to do that would be to become a chef first."
His plan included getting a liberal arts degree, then a formal
cooking education, possibly at the Culinary Institute of America.
But at college he was totally distracted by thoughts of owning a
restaurant and cooking for its guests.
When he came home at Christmas he found a job cooking in
a restaurant that served Continental and Italian cuisine,
where he learned about what he calls serious cooking—the
immediacy of it and the ability to work fast. College wound
up on the back burner, then in the deep freeze. He was moving
ahead in the business. "It was great exposure," he notes.
"I knew then that that's what I wanted to do. I had no doubts."
Looking back over the year he spent there, Chris calls it his
"sauté proving ground," where he became good at creating pan
sauces.
A Little Here and There
Chris' experience in the following years would enhance and
round out his skills both in the kitchen and as a restaurateur.
He began working at the Tarragon Tree in Chatham, NJ.
"Some of New Jersey's star chefs came through and I got to
know these guys pretty well. They took it upon themselves to
teach me everything they could."
One day the owner of the restaurant got a call from a French
master chef who wanted to take on some apprentices, and he
recommended Chris.
"It turned out to be better than the CIA!" he beams. He
moved to Houston, TX, where he became familiar with the
classic French brigade style of cooking, a relatively
formal, station-to-station method that proved to be a
great foundation for what lay ahead. "From that point on,"
he says, "I never had any trouble getting a job."
At the age of twenty-one, he moved back to New Jersey.
Chris picked up other proficiencies along the way.
He learned customer service and what there was to know
about the meat side of the business from working in a
butcher shop. His grasp of seafood came from a place on
the Jersey Shore called Doris & Ed's, where he worked
from 1990 to 1994.
"The menu there was like an encyclopedia of seafood, from one
end of the spectrum to the other,"
he says, shaking his head at the memory. His wine education
came from the two-month-long trips to wineries in the
Sonoma and Napa Valleys in California, which he took when
the seafood restaurant was closed for the season.
Emerging Style
"Everywhere I worked, I tried to learn as much about the
business end as I could,"
he says. He ended up back at the Frenchtown Inn as chef de
cuisine for two years (he'd been a line cook there in 1986),
and it was there that his own cooking persona began to emerge.
"We were really collaborating on the menus, feeding on each
other's skills. I started to put my own stamp on the menu
instead of doing what everyone else was doing."
His next stop was the Peacock Inn in Princeton, where he met
Ursula, who was a waitress there. The couple started dating
after Chris left the inn.
Out of work and looking for a job, Chris lived two doors down
from Anton's but had never been there. He paid a visit and met
Anton Dodel, who had built the restaurant up over the past
decade into a class act with excellent food and a full bar.
Anton said he could use someone to work Sundays so he could
take some time off. Chris signed on as sous chef.
"Anton's day off evolved into a Saturday and Sunday thing.
Then he added Wednesdays and finally I was working full time."
After two years he began looking into possible sites for his
own place in Basking Ridge and Princeton and at certain
beaches. He and Ursula became engaged, and Anton asked him
if he'd be interested in buying his restaurant. At first
Chris said no, but when the backing for a space in Basking
Ridge fell through, he returned to Anton and struck an
agreement. He took ownership of the business in September
of 2001.
From All Sides
Chris and Ursula married that year, and have a two-year-old
son, Zackery. The toughest part for Chris is not seeing the
family as much as he'd like to.
"I've got various ways of handling that, but I can't do what
I do and still be home enough. I want the restaurant to be a
success and I do enjoy being here—but I know what's most
important, and if I lose a couple of bucks by slipping out
now and then..."
He trails off with a so be it shrug.
Chris most enjoys the satisfaction of seeing something
through from start to finish. He's fascinated by what makes
dining vary from place to place, and why people prefer one
over the other. It is, he believes, more of the Zen balance
he spoke of earlier—"The philosophy behind why people
do what they're doing, and not necessarily how. On a technical
basis, we all have an ability to make good food. What attracts
me to a place is how the why manifests itself in the
restaurant."
Synchronicity in the restaurant business? As Chris puts it:
"Everything has to be in sync and go together. And do it seamlessly."
That, he says, is what it's all about.
Copyright 2002 Nouveau Magazine. All rights reserved. Used by Permission.
Revised January 12, 2005
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