Eyes on the prize

The annual James Beard Foundation awards are easily the most prestigious chef and restaurant honors in the United States. For chefs, the pinnacle is the Outstanding Chef category, regularly loaded with the biggest culinary names from around the country. But fame can come in smaller doses as well: Beard honors chefs in 10 regional competitions.

Even there, though, the Beard awards tend to go to chefs in larger metropolitan areas, or those who have managed to garner national publicity. Two weeks ago, Beard announced the semifinalists for their Best Restaurant and Best Chef awards. Every category was short-listed to 20 nominees. At the top of the South Region, first on the list, was Sarasota's own Derek Barnes.

When I ran the half-block to Derek's Culinary Casual to see if he'd heard the news, Barnes was a bit surprised, to say the least. "Are you sure," he asked. "Really?"

He didn't believe it till he saw it for himself. And when I ask him what his first thoughts were after his nomination sank in, he says, "Oh, I was gratified and excited, certainly. It's big. But how we can capitalize on it is what first went through my mind."

I have a good relationship with Barnes, possibly because CL's offices are just a half-block away from his restaurant. There are so few of us in the Rosemary District, we kind of stick together. That cordiality might also stem from the numerous favorable things I've written about him in the paper: Best New Restaurant, Best Chef on multiple occasions, and a bunch of other kudos.

But it hasn't always been pats on the back and literary hugs.

When Derek's first opened in January 2006, I jumped at the opportunity to review it. I had already experienced his glorious cuisine at 5One6 Burns -- under its original owners -- and I wanted to see what the man could do when given free reign.

I didn't have a great experience. Some of the food was exquisite; some of the food was clever but unsuccessful; some of the food was mystifying. Because of my prior experience with Barnes's cuisine, I had high expectations. And I left the restaurant disappointed.

That review of Derek's is easily one of the most poorly received pieces I've ever written. Store owners threw stacks of CL out on the street; advertisers cancelled contracts; hate mail streamed in. You see, the Sarasota community knew what I had suspected, what the Beard Foundation has now discovered: Derek Barnes is a big deal.

Especially for a kid who picked a college based on snowboarding potential.

Sit down with Barnes, and you'll instantly see that he is no boiling cauldron of culinary passion. His responses to my questions are measured and reserved, with an economy of words. It's clear he cares about food, about the Beard nomination, about his restaurant, but it's tempered by a focused attention on his next goal. And that's how it's been ever since he stumbled into cooking as a career.

After high school, Barnes left Fort Wayne, Ind., for Colorado Mountain College and the powdery slopes of Steamboat Springs. His goal: snowboard every day. Gaduating was secondary, but he made it, finishing with a degree in resort management.

"It was nice to go out west," he says. "I thought I might be there for good." When he graduated, though, Barnes had yet to figure out what he wanted next, so he headed home to Fort Wayne. "I worked in my father's fiancée's restaurant, an upscale breakfast and lunch place," he explains. And after just six months in the kitchen there, Barnes had laid himself an unwavering path towards culinary success: "I was pretty focused."

From Fort Wayne he headed back to Colorado, to the School of Culinary Arts in Denver. "I loved it. I picked it up really fast," he says, reminiscing about the 12-hours-a-day, five-days-a-week curriculum. Besides kitchen fundamentals, he also studied up on law and business. More than a cooking school, SCAD was a restaurateur incubator. Barnes soaked it up.

When graduation rolled up, he'd already set his sights on his next challenge: cooking at Emeril Lagasse's eponymous eatery in New Orleans, just as the "Bam!" man's star was rising to dizzying heights, at least as far as culinary celebrity is concerned. "I was very persistent," says Barnes. "I remember calling the chef de cuisine, again, and hearing him say 'God, he will not stop calling me!'" Eventually, after enough annoying phone calls, he found his place in the Big Easy.

"You wanna talk about jumping in over your head," Barnes says. "That first month, I cried." His first real kitchen gig was working the bottom of the heap at one of the hottest restaurants in the country, prepping, constructing amuse and -- occasionally, if lucky -- working on a cold appetizer. And he did it for 80-plus hours a week. "It was rough."

Within just a couple of years, though, Barnes managed to set a record as the fastest person at Emeril's to make sous chef, and also became Lagasse's go-to guy for private functions. At least, for Lagasse's private functions.

"By chance one night he asked me to do a private party at his house," says Barnes. Soon enough, Barnes was catering Memorial Day shindigs and Fourth of July fetes for Lagasse, culminating in the reception for his third wedding.

Barnes still has kind thoughts for Lagasse, no matter how much bile people like Anthony Bourdain throw at the media-savvy chef. "He's totally different than his corny TV persona," Barnes explains. "He has quite the skill. I saw him in action." The chefs would set up a station in the kitchen just in case Lagasse showed up with a group of friends or clients. "It'd be loaded with white Alba truffles, foie gras and other expensive ingredients." Lagasse would jump back to kitchen long enough to whip up something for his friends, then return to the dining room to do the gladhanding that's made him a household name.

Barnes seemed primed to rise through Lagasse's giant restaurant and media empire, but that wasn't part of his plan. "There's no doubt in my mind that I'd be one of the culinary directors of that company if I'd stayed," said Barnes. "That would be good for some people."

Not for him, though. Barnes had crossed one challenge off his list, and it was time to move on. "My last year at Emeril's, I gave myself five more years," Barnes says. He wanted his own restaurant.

Young chef, on the rise, with Emeril's name behind him, Barnes could have gone pretty much anywhere he wanted. Instead, he ended up here on the Suncoast. The entire time we're talking, I get the impression that here is a man who's so totally fixated on his work, as a chef and as a restaurateur, and so obviously talented, that his presence here in Sarasota is a mystery. Don't get me wrong, the Sarasota dining scene is damn fine for it's size. But it's not New York. Or Chicago. Or even Atlanta.

But by the time he left Emeril's, Barnes had been married for a few years to wife Beth, who he'd met in Colorado. They were planning a family, and Sarasota seemed like a more practical destination than a big city. So Barnes took a job at one of the few local restaurants that has some vague national fame: Anna Maria Island's Beach Bistro.

Even that was meticulously considered. "I knew I had to establish myself in the area," says Barnes, "and his name resonates around here." The him in question is Sean Murphy, long-time proprietor of the Bistro.

The restaurant was an easy next step along Barnes's path. While there, he was able to garner more experience running a kitchen, without taking on too much responsibility all at once. The menu at the Bistro is almost set in stone, and Murphy keeps a tight eye on all aspects of the operation. Soon enough, the constraints made it clear Barnes should move on.

"I needed to be doing more operations, looking at my numbers and controlling costs," he says. "I had more flexibility to do that at 5One6. It was pretty nonexistent at Beach Bistro."

For Barnes, 5One6 was just another lesson in the day-to-day realities of running a restaurant; for me, it was an introduction to the culinary aesthetic of one of Sarasota's best chefs. After reviewing restaurants in the area for a few years, my meal under the banyans at 5One6 was an eye-opener, like suddenly being exposed to color television when all you've had for years is black and white. There were problems with the meal, but the potential was fantastic. Here, I remember thinking, is a chef who's thinking, and innovating. He's actually trying.

Barnes quickly absorbed all the knowledge he needed out of 5One6 and -- a couple of years ahead of his five-year goal -- his own restaurant was looming. "I had been ready halfway through my time there," he says. "I started looking."

Derek's opened in the beginning of 2006, several months after Barnes had planned, thanks to the usual construction and permitting issues. It was the first real nighttime spot to go live in the Rosemary District since the demise of the much-cherished Brownstone. Why open in the nigh-desolate area?

"The timing, the rent: This area was going to be the next big thing," he says, looking like the question I asked has been foremost in his thoughts for three years. "I overestimated the growth of the area." It's not really his fault. Speculators were snatching up property in the Rosemary like crazy, with mixed-use development plans working their way through city offices. It was going to be the next big thing. And then the real estate industry tanked.

Now, Derek's is kind of lonely after the sun goes down. The newly neighboring Sarasota Olive Oil Company stays open late on the weekends, but that's about it in the Rosemary, a neighborhood still bordered by low-income housing and a Salvation Army shelter. And while some diners stay away because of the area's lack of glitz, those in the know keep on coming.

They come for Barnes's house-cured bacon, his homemade sausages and the soups he makes personally every day. They come for the sense of whimsy and Barnes's knowledge of culinary science. They come for the chef's one-night-only globe-trotting tasting menus. They come for the profligate use of local ingredients. They come for the way Barnes fosters relationships with other local chefs.

If it was on Main Street, it's likely Derek's would be packed through season and stay busy enough during the summer. But here in the Rosemary, the man labors to keep the dining room full. Not only does he have to put out the most interesting food in town, and manage the myriad tasks of running all aspects of the restaurant, he has to get creative with marketing and advertising. For maybe the first time since he embarked on his culinary career, Derek Barnes has had to struggle for success.

That's why, when I asked him how he felt about making the Beard semi-finals, his first thoughts were how to make the recognition work for his restaurant, how to leverage the award to fill more seats. Barnes knows food, that's for sure, but making Derek's Culinary Casual a successful, profitable restaurant requires so much more. "I do everything here, from soup to QuickBooks," he says. "When I'm in the kitchen, I need to be in the office, and vice versa."

Still, everything's in place, on track. He works hard, but he still manages to string together two days a week to spend with his wife and 6-year-old son, Jack. And, despite all the paperwork piling up, the inventories that need to get done, he did take a little time out to enjoy the glow of his Beard success. For almost one whole weekend.

Then, it was back to work.