After my last shift at the Dahlia Lounge, I punched out, changed my sweat-soaked socks, let myself out the back door, and limped down Fifth Avenue to the #118 bus stop with a small Italian pitcher tucked under my arm—a going away present from Tom, Shelley, and Steve. Riding in to work from Vashon early every day, my bus passed through Pioneer Square and every morning I saw an old breakfast cook in a grease-stained apron, leaning against the alley door of a downtown restaurant smoking a cigarette. And every morning, at fifty years old, I thought, “If I’m not careful, that will be me”.

I was tired, my knees ached, I lacked the energy to participate at full steam, and my culinary career ended. On the menu the day I left were Potato Gnocchi with Roasted Tomatoes and Gorgonzola Cream, Tuna Sashimi with Green Onion Pancakes, Lobster and Shiitake Pot Stickers, Dungeness Crab Cakes with Thyme Aioli, and Coconut Cream Pie—all Dahlia Lounge creations. My career began nineteen years earlier at the Vashon Elementary School lunch room—on the menu the day I started were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fish sticks, Tater Tots, and Jell-O Surprise—recipes courtesy of the federally-funded Food for Schools Program.



Tom Douglas's Dahlia Lounge

In the years between those two commercial kitchens I became a skilled line cook, a competent kitchen manager, and an adept interpreter of someone else’s passion. In a recent Seattle Times article describing the connections that created Seattle’s modern restaurant scene, John Sundstrom (former chef at the Dahlia Lounge and current chef/owner of Lark) said, “People expect Tom Douglas to be cooking their crab cakes. When you work for Tom, you’re in his shadow as a chef”. For Sundstrom, cooking in the shadow fueled his passion to open his own restaurant.  For me, and for most professional cooks, cooking in the shadow provides a reliable income in a fast-paced, often chaotic work environment and a job that is put to rest when you walk out the door. 

As a housewife in the 1960's, I cooked at home because we couldn't afford to eat out; I cooked because it made my husband happy; and I cooked because my Mom cooked. In the 70’s, I cooked in restaurants because I needed to pay the rent, not because I had a passion for food. Four years as an English major encouraged me to read, but a source of income?—not so much.

In the 70’s, jobs on Vashon were limited to making K2 skis, pressing cider at Wax Orchards, working at Island Tofu, or emptying bed pans at the Vashon Island Nursing Home. I didn’t smoke weed, I was over twenty, and I always showed up—three big ones in the restaurant world. When the owner of Minglement, a local natural food store, offered me a a job at his new restaurant, I accepted. With six months as a key punch operator, ten years as a home cook, and one school year as a lunch room worker under my belt, I became a line cook. That turn in the road, my defining connection, was the first in a string of jobs that lasted for twenty years, put me behind swinging doors in Vashon, Los Angeles, and Seattle and narrowed my life’s work to the kitchen.

Tom Douglas's Coconut Cream Pie

Coconut Pie Shell
• 1 cup plus 2 Tbs. flour
• ½ cup sweetened shredded coconut
• 1 stick cubed, cold unsalted butter
• 2 tsp. sugar
• ¼ tsp. salt
• 1/3 cup ice water

In a food processor, combine the flour, coconut, cubed butter, sugar, and salt. Pulse to form coarse crumbs. Gradually add the ice water, one Tbs. at a time, pulsing each time. Use only as much water as necessary for dough to hold together when pressed between your fingers.

Dump dough on plastic wrap and form it into a flattened disk. Chill for one hour before using. Roll dough and trim to fit pie pan. Chill for one hour. Place round of foil on bottom of crust and fill with beans or pie weights. Bake in pre-heated 400 degree oven for 20 minutes. Remove foil and beans/weights and return crust to oven for 10 more minutes

Coconut Pastry Cream
• 2 cups milk
• 2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 2 large eggs
• 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
• 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened

Combine the milk, vanilla, and coconut in a medium saucepan. Place the saucepan over medium-high heat and stir occasionally until the mixture almost comes to a boil.

In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, and flour until well combined. Temper the eggs (to keep them from scrambling) by pouring a small amount (about 1/3 Cup) of the scalded milk into the egg mixture while whisking. Then add the warmed egg mixture to the saucepan of milk and coconut.

Whisk over medium-high heat until the pastry cream thickens and begins to bubble. Keep whisking until the mixture is very thick, 4 to 5 minutes more. Remove the saucepan from the heat. Add the butter and whisk until it melts.

Transfer the pastry cream to a bowl and place it over a bowl of ice water. Stir occasionally until it is cool. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the pastry cream to prevent a crust from forming and refrigerate until completely cold. The pastry cream will thicken as it cools.

When the pastry cream is cold, fill the pre-baked pie shell with it, smoothing the surface.

In a mixer with the whip attachment, whip the heavy cream with the sugar and vanilla on medium speed. Gradually increase the speed to high and whip to peaks that are firm enough to hold their shape. Top coconut cream with whipped cream. To garnish: shave white chocolate with vegetable peeler over the top of the pie.