October 3, 2005

By Daniel Mark Wheaton

Gordie MacDonald stands in front of an all-stainless-steel table wearing black pants, a black shirt and a black apron. He’s skinning salmon.

Laying the fillet on the table, skin-side down, MacDonald slips his knife between the tough outer skin—black with a pink stripe down the centre—and the soft pink flesh of the fish. Grasping the tip of the skin with his free hand, he slides the knife all the way to the other end of the fillet, completely separating the two pieces.

MacDonald is the chef on duty in the kitchen at Peakes Quay, a famed harbourside restaurant in downtown Charlottetown.

As the tourist season winds down, the restaurant isn’t as busy as it was a month ago. But that doesn’t mean the staff in the kitchen can sit around and do nothing.

During the height of the tourist season, the Peakes Quay kitchen employs as many as 18 cooks and 15 dishwashers. But on Wednesday afternoon, Sept. 27, the only other cook accompanying MacDonald is recent Culinary Institute graduate Jonathan Vickerson.

During the Canada Day weekend, the kitchen served 1,900 people in a single day—more than two meals per minute.

As MacDonald lifts the skin out from under each salmon fillet, he raises it over a plastic bag-lined garbage can and drops the refuse in. He then lays the pink fillet into a metal pan and grabs another piece from a box. He cuts the next piece from its clear plastic bag, tosses the plastic into a separate garbage can, and repeats the skinning process.

This is just one of the many jobs that must be done in the kitchen, even during lunch hour. With the dining room nearly empty, the kitchen staff has a chance to catch up on preparation.

A week earlier, the restaurant changed its menu. Downsized, with some of the summer seafood dishes removed, it works better as Peakes Quay wraps up its season.

With the Prince Edward Island International Shellfish Festival over, bus tour groups will continue to be served for another three weeks, while the restaurant itself will remain open to the public for just two more weeks.

Last weekend was a record breaker for the establishment. The kitchen prepared and served approximately 300 litres of chowder.

As part of the festival, executive chef Billy Shields placed third in the Paderno P.E.I. Chowder Championship.

Lee Victor, the manager on duty, steps into the kitchen to check on things before ordering his own lunch—an omelet with bacon, tomato and green pepper.

As MacDonald continues preparing the salmon, Vickerson walks to the refrigerator for a carton of eggs.

The walk-in cooler, roughly eight by twelve feet, is lit by two incandescent bulbs protected by thick glass covers. It’s only about one-third full. Shelves hold dairy products while carts are stacked with produce. A pail of lettuce sits on the floor beside jars of sauces.

Two fans circulate the cold air. A box of baking soda rests on one shelf, absorbing some of the odours from lobster, haddock, steak and the other fresh ingredients.

One shelf contains organic vegetables from a farm in York—tomatoes, zucchini and purple peppers.

The restaurant makes a point of using as much Island produce as possible. Vickerson says their mussels come from Montague and their tomatoes are grown and ripened on Prince Edward Island rather than being shipped from California.

MacDonald pauses from slicing salmon to prepare an order of nachos to go. He empties a bag of chips onto red-and-white checkered paper, tossing one into his mouth before sprinkling cheese over the pile.

Meanwhile, Vickerson cracks three eggs into a bowl, whisks them, pours them into a hot frying pan coated with cooking spray and adjusts the heat.

The nachos are heated, boxed and placed on a shelf until a server arrives, adds a container of sauce, and carries them away.

MacDonald returns to the salmon. Once it’s all skinned, he portions the foot-long fillets into three-inch pieces before vacuum-sealing some of them for storage.

Before he finishes, a small receipt printer spits out another order.

Vickerson removes the omelet from the salamander oven, plates it, and sets it on the pass for a server.

Fries go into the fryer.

A lobster is plated with lettuce, coleslaw, potato salad, tomato and cucumber.

Vickerson tosses mussels into a hot pan, adds Alfredo sauce, pasta and water before finishing the dish with tomato, peppers and cheese.

A tray of salmon comes out of the commercial steamer.

Haddock, coated in cornmeal and butter, goes into the oven.

The owner walks through the kitchen, greeting the cooks over the sound of exhaust fans and oldies playing from a stereo perched on top of a Pepsi cooler.

Quesadillas emerge from the pizza oven.

A lobster salad sandwich is assembled.

Two Caesar salads are prepared side by side.

The haddock comes from the oven with butter bubbling in the pan.

Servers collect completed plates of chicken fingers and chicken quesadillas.

At the front of the kitchen, things are much quieter. The cold line has been shut down for the season, its equipment moved to the rear because of the reduced staff. Brooms hang neatly on the wall beside a mop and bucket.

Compared with the busy work area in the back, it feels like a ghost kitchen—visited only by servers passing through the swinging doors between the dining room and the cooks.

This is a lunch hour in the Peakes Quay kitchen.