Chef Aaron Crowder Cooks While He’s Camping

Aaron Crowder has spent most of his summer at the restaurant Eel Bar, where he is the chef and a partner. Before running the kitchens at Eel Bar and its sister restaurant, Cervo’s, Crowder cooked his way through Andrew Tarlow’s kitchens (Marlow & Sons, Diner), where he worked with his partner at both of the Lower East Side restaurants, Nick Perkins. Eel Bar is only about a month old, and he’s figuring out the balance of a double-restaurant workload, but he still manages to get away on the weekends for fishing trips, even if he won’t tell us exactly where he goes: He doesn’t want his favorite spot to get discovered.

Saturday, July 20
I start my day with just a big glass of water since my Nespresso machine is broken. Then I get ready for work and ride a Citi Bike across the Williamsburg Bridge. It is so hot. I spend the first ten minutes at Eel Bar cooling down with more water, then I jump right into the kitchen. Usually when I arrive, our prep cook Abel is the only one in the kitchen, so we check in. He’s cooking our meatballs. I want to snack on them forever but only have one. Then I cut up a tomato from Lancaster Farms and add a bit of salt. I’m happy.

While checking the rest of the order I end up eating a bunch of Sungolds and have a hard time controlling myself. They are so sweet and just ripe. We are starting to see real summer produce, and I love when it all arrives — eating little bits of everything while checking quality. I end up eating a salad’s worth of raw veg.

I walk to Cervo’s to check in and see how our CDC is doing. I still haven’t had caffeine so I grab an iced coffee at Little Canal on my way. That’s my spot in the neighborhood; it’s close and everyone is so nice.

Tyler, who is our CDC, and I have plans to take photos of an oyster platter for an event we’re hosting. When I arrive, Tyler has it all ready to go: huge oysters from Maine, clam salad, and spicy mussels. I’m so proud of the spicy mussels escabeche at Cervo’s. I think it’s my favorite dish I’ve ever made. After we take the photos I want to eat more than my allotted three, but I’m disciplined and share.

Back to Eel Bar to get ready for service and tasters. We try to taste through around a third of the menu daily. We just added a new Gilda with a pickled cucumber, olive, and a huge anchovy. I had something similar years ago while traveling through the Spanish Pyrenees mountains. I did a big trip across the top of Spain, from Bilbao into San Sebastián, then through the mountains, ending up in Barcelona. The food in the mountains is different than what you expect in Basque Country; there’s still a lot of seafood, but it’s more cured and preserved. A lot of things I ate on that trip served as inspirations for Eel Bar. This Gilda stuck with me. Gildas are so simple, but it takes a lot of work to get it all right proportions-wise. I prefer them big and kind of weird. These fit the bill.

Everyone must be at the beach because service is on the slower side, and I am able to step off around nine. I have plans to go out with my friend and business partner, Taylor, after work, so it’s great to get out a bit early.

Our friends from London are having a pop-up on Canal Street. Their restaurant is called Rita’s, and I love it. It’s a real scene when we arrive, but luckily we get a little table and some seats. We’ve missed most of the food, but they saved us a couple of bites. We have some amazing littleneck clams in broth and, funny enough, Gildas with blue-cheese-stuffed olives. It’s the perfect snack to go with after-work beers. We’re able to sneak in and hang out a little bit with Missy and Gabe, the owners. Their restaurant in London is wildly popular, and they seem to deal with it with such grace. The party feels similar to eating there in that way.

I really want to hit up Chrissy’s before they end their residency at Superiority Burger, so I head there for a late-night pie. Chrissy defies what I understand about pizza. Somehow, he’s able to make the entire pie crispy on the bottom, like a slice is after it’s reheated. Taylor is always up for eating out with me, but it gets late fast. We are fading by midnight, and we both head home.

Sunday, July 21
Wake up to my alarm at 6 a.m. It hurts. I spend 30 minutes packing and preparing for a quick fishing trip upstate. I always forget something. I go most weekends, if it’s just up and back for the day, because I am addicted to fishing. I’ve been doing it for nine years. I got started because I knew I wanted to do it, and I wanted to be in the mountains more, so I bought a car and taught myself. At that point, I was working a lot. Well, I still work a lot, but this allows me to continue in this job, which can obviously be really challenging. It’s about the reset and turning off the New York City noise. Most of my meals in a week are eaten at restaurants, so having some camp cooking provides a good contrast, too.

I cut up a mango before leaving the house — it is so cold and delicious — but the Nespresso machine is still broken so I order a new one on the fly out of frustration and get an iced coffee at McDonald’s on the way out of town. I’m a cheap date with coffee, but this is actually pretty good.

Arrive in the Catskills around 9:30 a.m. and go straight to the grocery store for boat provisions: Gatorade, Modelo, fresh cherries, and salt-and-vinegar Pringles. I try to buy some propane for my camp stove but it turns out my license expired the week before. I tell the cashier my age, but she ignores me. I’m with my friend and fishing pal, Creigh, so I send him in for the propane. The cashier doesn’t seem happy about it, but she sells it to him anyway.

Creigh shopped the day before, so we are well stocked for this 24-hour trip. By the time we’re floating, I’m starved. Creigh makes the sandwiches while I row. It’s a tradition now that he gets cured meats from Emily’s Pork Store in Williamsburg, and the sandwiches are always amazing, stuffed with capicola and sweet and hot soppressata. We have mayo and yellow mustard, some cucumber, and tomato, which he cuts with my pocket knife. I put some salt-and-vinegar chips on mine since we didn’t bring any salt. I knew I would forget something.

We catch some trout and see a few bald eagles. We fish pretty late and don’t get back to the camp spot until around 10 p.m. Creigh makes a fire while I get the Coleman stove going. Camp cooking is always fun and sometimes kind of trashy, which I love. This trip is no exception. I prepare a huge pot of macaroni and cheese with broccoli and chorizo from the Meat Hook. I make it all in one pot and add hot sauce to finish. I always keep some El Yucateco habanero and Tajín in my camp-cooking kit. I am in bed and fully asleep 20 minutes later.

Monday, July 22
I sleep so well that I wake up around 7 a.m. We don’t get any service at the camp spot, so I can’t sit around scrolling on my phone. I make a quick iced coffee from Parlor’s concentrate — another fixture in my camping kit — before I go down to the river to see whether any trout are rising.

I drive back early to run errands before the work week restarts. I need to get some work done on my bike, and the shop is right across the street from one of my favorite spots in my neighborhood, Bahia. They make delicious and super-simple Salvadoran food. I go for some pupusas and order one bean and and one chicken. I love these pupusas, but my favorite thing is the acidic carrot slaw that comes with it in a huge bowl. I make tiny, perfect bites with a bit of pupusa, a pile of slaw, and a few dots of hot sauce.

Around nine that night, I freak out because I am starving again. It’s too easy for me to forget to eat on my weekends. I head out with no plan and end up outside of Bonnie’s. I almost walk in before I run into one of my best friends, Nick, who lives next door. He’s on his way to Le Crocodile, so I tag along. He and I started cooking together at Reynard at the Wythe Hotel before it was Le Crocodile, when I was a sous chef there. I hired him before he had cooked. When I left Reynard to open Cervo’s, he came along as my sous chef.

I order a very cold martini, and Nick gets a soda water. We also get big, meaty oysters from PEI and salmon tartare. We finish with steaks — he orders salad with his and I get fries. I’m jealous of his salad when it comes out, so I add one. Nick is one of the most charming people I know — he’s one of the owners of L’Industrie Pizzeria — and he’s like a celebrity at Le Croc. Everyone comes over to say hi. We talk about work stuff and end the night with some amaro.

Tuesday, July 23
My new Nespresso machine arrives, so I make coffee and drink it while lying around. I like to wake up early to waste a couple of hours lounging. I cherish my Nespresso machine.

I got to the gym, and then I’m late for my 11 a.m. meeting, but my business partner, Nick, graciously got me a coffee anyway. I hate to be late and rarely am. The stress is just not worth it.

I run over to meet with Tyler at Cervo’s and talk through what needs to happen for the week there. He had just made a sea bream with fresh tomato sauce on it to test, so we taste it together. I forgot how good it is. We ran this garnish last summer; it rules. We grate tomatoes and season them with fresh garlic, anchovy, and some good olive oil. He thinks it’s the best sea-bream garnish we’ve made together. It’s hard to disagree. I’ve been spending a lot more time at Eel Bar than at Cervo’s lately, but Tyler and I have worked together forever and he’s the guy who makes it all feel possible.

I walk to Eel Bar, and prep is in full swing. I taste through some items that we’re working on and check in with our sous chef, Chase. He’s been testing canalés for the last two weeks — he’s made them every day, experimenting with different molds, cooking times — and I think he is close to nailing them. We serve them with drunken cherries, which is my perfect kind of dessert— a sweet bread soaked in liquor with some fruit. I eat more than one.

I taste through some other things and try not to get too full. One of my friends calls it eating like a rabbit. I taste little bits here and there all day long, but as soon as I’m full, I’m not as good at my job. Something about being just-hungry-enough helps me want to work with the food throughout the day. I skip family meal even though it’s Taco Tuesday — my favorite.

I have a quick off-campus meeting with Nick to discuss some ideas. Since we have most of these meetings at Barrio Chino, we each have a marg with lots of salt. Then, I head back to Eel Bar for tasters before service. We have a few new dishes going on, so I want to try those for sure. My favorite thing is this wax-bean salad with marinated onions and Garrotxa cheese.

Off to the races. We have the busiest service yet, and it is tough, but we make it through. As things slow down, I celebrate with a martini on the rocks.

Wednesday, July 24
My favorite vegetable purveyor, Guido from Rosa-Co, is making a delivery when I get to Eel Bar. He’s always good for a story about his grandchildren, old Williamsburg, or how the market used to be. He’s the nicest, most positive person in the business and consistently comes with a gift. This time, it’s a few overripe mangoes, and they are some of the most delicious things I eat all week.

We taste a few more canalés and I think we’ve got it. They are pretty perfect. Just the right level of crisp on the outside, super-custardy in the middle, and the color is dark but not too dark.

We tested so much the day before that I feel good about eating a family meal instead. The team makes some really good braised chicken with some sort of pepper sauce, and I eat it over rice with marinated tomatoes on top. I almost go in for seconds and then stop myself. It’s a tough decision, but I think in the end the right one.

Just before service, we work mostly on our black-rice dish, adding some of those Sungold tomatoes and keeping it crispy on the plancha. It takes us a few tries, but we get it to a place that feels good for service. I could eat rice every day, so I love testing this one.

After service I go straight home and am so hungry. This time of year, I always keep tomatoes at my apartment so I can make my favorite food: tomato sandwiches. I eat so many between July and September. All I need is good bread, ripe tomato, salt, and mayonnaise. I’ve been eating them my whole life. At some point when I was a kid, I thought my mom invented it. She didn’t, but I like to think that my grandfather did.

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