Take abalone. Frank Mendoza can tell you everything about the ingredient. How it was caught or cultivated (“farmed off of California”). What its feed was (“soybean product”). Maybe even utter its proper scientific name (haliotis). And from the kitchen, he shows you what he can do with it. The result — a red abalone crisp, one of the newest members of the Log Haven menu.
It's tempting to call Mendoza shy, since, compared to so many charismatic, loquacious, hot-tempered TV chefs — the digital age's de facto high priests of culinary craft — he's about as emotive as a chilled oyster. But the sedate mien is rooted in his confidence in knowing what food works and how it should be presented. Since his days at the California Culinary Institute, his laser-beam intensity has graced kitchens across the country. Whether at W in Chicago, La Folie in San Francisco, or the Metropolitan in Salt Lake City, Mendoza has built a reputation on meticulous technique and overall quality.
He's like an artist content to lock himself away in a studio. That artistic bent fuels his menu. Tuna bocadillo takes a geometric turn with angular crisps and curled ribbons of apples and cucumbers. Colors pop in a tomato jam, a deep pink filet of wild salmon, and an earthy red sea coffee barbecue sauce. The chef may be a quiet fellow, but the food speaks for itself.
And it's provocative. Controversial ingredients like veal and foie gras figure prominently on his architecturally quizzical plates — which aren't the exclusive sustenance of fine diners, by the way. As head of the restaurant's famed banquet facility, Mendoza gets to dazzle guests who've corkscrewed up Millcreek Canyon for wedding receptions, bar mitzvahs, and retirement parties.
At his side is a cooking crew he dotes on like family. “It's a career with low pay and long hours,” he says. “I feel like I have their long-term interests at heart. And they're excited by the challenge.”
It's easy to imagine Mendoza before every shift, in a huddle with his kitchen team, psyching himself up for yet another performance of a lifetime, relishing the tension. “I want to get those butterflies,” Mendoza says. “I know then that I'm going to be challenged and that's what makes the food speak to you.”
