Rob Burmeister doesn't play by the rules. This might be because the rules don't seem to apply to the Port Richmond native, who wandered into a kitchen as a teenager and began a epic culinary journey that would eventually land him on the small screen.
"Me and my father had a potato chip route and I hated it," he remembers, "I was one of those kids who hated everything." This feeling applied particularly to work, which found him bouncing around a series of odd jobs that didn't outlast his attention span. "I was in a pet store for like a day," he says.
But all that changed when he stepped foot in the kitchen of what was then the Lake Café in Clove Lakes Park. "When I saw the action in the kitchen and I saw fire and knives, I thought 'This is where I've got to be.'"
Despite his lack of formal training, he steadily rose through the ranks, relying on instinct, observation and experimentation-a mixture that has served him well over the past two decades. The café led to other watery destinations. One of the chefs took young Burmeister to Florida, where he cooked at Caribbean restaurants and developed a taste for bold flavors. From there, he says, the whole crew migrated to Nantucket, but in the end, he returned to the island of his birth to give birth to his burgeoning empire.
Located in the heart of West Brighton, Burmeister's eatery Chow boasts a bold look and bolder cuisine. "It's all about the food" reads a giant banner above the register, a big claim that goes with the big personality of the 6'3" chef, like Cap'n Crunch goes with chicken fingers. Remember, in Burmeister's world, the rules don't apply.
Take, for instance, the egg rolls. Since Chow is often confused for a Chinese restaurant, the self-described "young 38-year old" figured why not serve the take-out staple...with a twist. "I do a lot of crazy egg rolls. Mac and cheese egg rolls, bangers and mash...yesterday, I sold out of Beef Meatloaf Wellington Egg Rolls."
This sense of adventure served the chef well as he recently jumped into the fire of national television. With his commanding presence and gravelly voice, Burmeister seems a natural for reality TV, and fans of the hit show Top Chef will note his spiky hairstyle fits right in with the "Who's Who" of Culinary Faux-Hawks. His venue- Chopped -is a Food Network program that finds four chefs facing off over a picnic basket filled with mystery ingredients. Burmeister fared well, but faltered on the final course. "They gave us candied ginger, instant oatmeal, beets, and goat cheese," he shrugs, "so I made a dessert salad." He came in second.
"My competitor made some nasty oatmeal pudding. It was gross," he says, "but he won. Got the grand. I felt like I was robbed. But I had a good time overall."
Not that Burmeister walked away empty handed. The black chef's jacket he wore in the show hangs prominently on the wall of Chow like a retired jersey, even though, technically, it's contraband.
"I said, 'Can I have the chef coat?' and they said 'We're not giving them out.' So I just... kind of... put it in with my belongings," he laughs. "No way I wasn't leaving there with something."
In addition to the hijacked jacket, he also left with a simmering sense of celebrity he'd like to bring to a full boil. "Once you get on camera, you get the bug."
To that end, Burmeister, who also caters parties and pig roasts and works as a personal chef, is collaborating with several other Staten Island chefs/reality TV stars on a number of projects, including a not-for-profit called Hip4Kids, which teaches young people (and their parents) about healthy cooking.
And then there's the fan mail. "People from all over the country...California, Arizona...they write to me and say they are coming to New York and they want to come by because they love the show and they want to eat here." That's right. Tourists are so eager to sample the chow at Chow that they plan to make a trek to Staten Island part of their vacation itinerary. Which begs the question: for a borough looking to boost its appeal, could Burmeister's year old eatery be the answer to the Island's lackluster tourism industry?
"Maybe," he says, crossing his arms, completely unfazed. To a man who makes Shepherd's Pie Egg Rolls, it seems that nothing is out of the realm of possibility.
Chow Gourmet, 370 Forest Avenue, Staten Island, 718.448.2469
www.chowgourmet.com
