Behind this pastry chef's cutesy names is an artist who can take the heat

By HSIAO-CHING CHOU
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER FOOD WRITER

She Wore a Raspberry Parfait when she did the Banana Shag and practiced Karma Sutra on the coconut shag carpet while eating a Jama Lama Ding Dong. When it came to the Lemon Twist and Shout, it spun her sugar Slinkies and tuile legs into a bunch, forcing her to take it easy and sit on the couch with Sex, Lies and Apricots.

If you know Sue McCown's work at Earth & Ocean, then you'll recognize that Karma Sutra is actually a parfait and the Banana Shag is banana nut cake with banana nut ice cream on a carpet of toasted coconut; that sugar Slinkies are spirals of hardened sugar syrup and tuile legs are delicate cookies used to embellish parfaits; and that Sex, Lies and Apricots is certainly not a movie.

Earth & Ocean executive pastry chef Sue McCown's distinctive desserts promise to satisfy any sweet tooth in an unforgettable way.

Some people can't help being cute and McCown is adorable. She was self-taught and has become one of Seattle's most respected pastry chefs. She's really found her way in the five years since she stepped into her position as executive pastry chef at Earth & Ocean, the W Hotel's upscale restaurant. Her name is everywhere.

For instance, pick any number of charity dinner events and it's likely she's involved. On the horizon is a the cystic fibrosis event in California for 1,300 people, Taste Washington for 1,200, and the Marine Stewardship Council fund-raiser for (only) 200. Even from afar, event coordinators want McCown's fantastical touch.

A parfait, such as the Karma Sutra, which layers caramel custard with hazelnut cake, is served in a martini glass. Then, two tuile cookie legs are planted in the parfait. The view from above is reminiscent of looking up a can-can dancer's skirt. The final piece is a sugar Slinky, which is suspended from the rim of the glass. The parfait flavor and name change monthly, but the presentation never fails to delight the recipient and, usually, anyone who sits along the path from the pastry kitchen to the dessert's destination in the dining room.

Such irreverence is not light work. It requires calculation and tedious hours of preparation. Each element of each dessert is a recipe in and of itself. The reason it all comes together is that McCown is a compulsive organizer.

A tour of her kitchen begins with show-and-tell of the task lists taped to the wall, with a detailed explanation of each staff member's role. Her own schedule is as precise as a cake recipe. A daily to-do list is printed out and obeyed down to eating an apple. McCown reminds herself every day to eat an apple.

Recipes and ideas are kept in their respective binders. Scraps of paper containing scribbled-down thoughts are slipped into plastic sleeves and filed accordingly. The pocket of her chef's coat contains a pen, highlighter and marker. McCown admits to being the queen of Ziploc bags. She loves Ziploc bags and stores everything, even her cosmetics, in them.

Oddly enough, she does not keep a personal notebook or journal. She relies on miscellaneous pieces of paper, whatever is on hand. Recently, during a return flight from a weekend getaway, she tore out a page from an issue of O magazine, her favorite, and spilled her stream of consciousness on its glossy surface. The name and shape concepts as well as sketches of new creations constitute a preliminary blueprint of next month's dessert menu.

The magazine page is now in a plastic binder sleeve.

McCown fell into pastry making after she fell into cooking.

"When I was a girl, I was a secretary," she recalls. "But I hated the 9 to 5 and pantyhose, so I left that and went to Europe to find myself."

After several months of traveling, she landed in Switzerland, where she found a kitchen job at a resort. She lied during the interview, saying that she had cooking experience. Her first task on the job was to debone some ducks and then make stock. Her blank stare and red face was all the chef needed to figure out she knew nothing.

"For the next 20 minutes, all I heard was 'stupid American, stupid American. ...' " she says.

The chef finally calmed down enough to ask her if she really did want a job. She said yes and he kept her on. Because she doesn't like being the fool, she went to a local school to get as many books on cooking as she could. She mainly did dishes, though. After three months, McCown returned to her native San Francisco and enrolled at California Culinary Academy.

A job offer led her to Manzanita in Oregon, but it turned out not to be what she expected. She came to Seattle to visit some friends and decided to stay. Her first job was at Campagne, working for Tamara Murphy, who now owns Brasa. She cooked on the line until she was called in by Campagne owner Peter Lewis one day after the pastry chef had left. Lewis told McCown that she would be taking over, despite her lack of pastry experience.

"After two months, I overheard one of the line cooks say, 'She sucks.' When I hear things like that, it makes me step up to the plate."

The "Cake Bible" became her bible, as did Nancy Silverton and Julia Child's books. McCown improved.

"It seeped into my bones and I fell in love with making pastries."

McCown worked next at the former Painted Table in the Alexis Hotel. She was fired from that job, which devastated her. But everything happens for a reason. The job she found at a neighborhood bakery taught her the production skills she uses to this day. From there, she went on to a job at the Hunt Club at the Sorrento Hotel.

"I was on fire," she says enthusiastically. "Because I had been fired at the Alexis, I was going to show them."

Her stint at the Hunt Club lasted only a year. The pastry kitchen was too small and McCown couldn't stand the cramped quarters. There would be three more stops before she was offered a position at Earth & Ocean. The opening chef, Jean-Michel Boulot, had decided she should have the job even before she interviewed.

"I was terrified. 'Do I have what it takes?' Just trying to train the staff was overwhelming."

McCown's drive carried her through. It still carries her through, though she still gets anxiety attacks.

"I just get nervous. I want everything to work out and I want everybody to feel appreciated. I love what I do so much that I don't want it taken away."

McCown turned 40 on December 27. That day was extra special because it was also her wedding day. She married Jim Hodge, a man she saw across the room at a friend's birthday party. Hodge is an artist and cabinetmaker. His handiness has proved useful in building special stands for McCown's specialty cakes. Her expertise in the pastry department appealed to his sweet tooth.

"I swear I won him through his stomach," she says.

Her life is passion fruit right now: sweet, a little tart, and full of sunny goodness. There's one thing missing, though. McCown is determined to win the James Beard award in her category.

That would be the cherry on top.

P-I food writer Hsiao-Ching Chou can be reached at 206-448-8117 or hsiaochingchou@seattlepi.com.

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