Luxe Beat Magazine SEPTEMBER 2014 | Page 101

evening and asked, “What are you
doing tonight?” I told him I had no
plans, and he continued, “Why don’t
you come along with me? Now and
then, all the French chefs in
Washington get together. Tonight
we’ll gather at the Mayflower Hotel.”
“Sure!” I replied. It sounded like fun.
“Your French is good enough,” he
reassured me. “You’ll have no trouble
participating in the conversation.”
When we arrived at the Mayflower,
Jean introduced me around. Among
the group was Pierre Chambrin of
the well-known Maison Blanche
restaurant. Neither of us knew that
this meeting would turn out to be a
milestone in my career path. Pierre
was destined to become sous-chef at
the White House a few years later.
My experiences in France and my
ability to converse in the language
gave me an inside track with that
crowd. I really hit it off with several
of the chefs — including one of the
Mayflower chefs who had worked in
Dijon. I knew the hotel and several
fine restaurants where he had worked.
I ended the evening as a new — if
unlikely — member of that elite circle!
I continued to work at the Four Ways
for nearly two years — till it ran
into some financial difficulties and
closed in the summer of 1989. I’d
heard that Pierre Chambrin was
looking for help, so I contacted him
to let him know I was available, but
we couldn’t make it work. In fact,
for months after I left the Four
Ways, Pierre and I made several
attempts to work together, but we
were never able to make it happen.
Then we lost touch for a while.
Someone told me that Pierre was
working at the White House, but
it was nearly a year before I heard from
him again. Then one day my phone
rang.

“This is Pierre,” he said. “What are you
doing these days?” I briefly described
my current situation, and then he said,
“Well, I’m a sous-chef at the White
House. They brought me on a year ago
in anticipation of the executive chef
retiring. They’ve been prepping me as
a possible replacement. Now it looks
like I’ve got the job — and I need to
replace myself.” And then, “Would you
be interested?”
“Yeah! Let’s meet and talk about it.”
I was working downtown at that
time, in the restaurant at the Westin
Hotel (this later became the ANA,
All Nippon Airways, and then the
Monarch), so it was simple to
arrange to get together after work
one night. We decided to meet at
Trader Vic’s, the popular bar that
used to operate at the Capitol
Hilton. The two of us sat, had a
drink, and chatted about the White
House. Pierre emphasized over and
over, “It’s a very special place. I
don’t even know how to describe
it exactly, you know?”
He talked about the complex
personalities you have to deal with.
“It’s not so much the president or
the first lady — it’s all the other
characters who work in and around
the White House. Cooking at the
White House is different.”
He made an important point: “It’s
not a restaurant; it’s not a hotel.
You’re cooking in somebody’s home
— and you’re serving them almost
every single day.”
As I was beginning to get a picture
of what it meant to cook at the
White House, he looked at me and
said matter-of-factly, “You know,
I’m French-born, and I’ve been an
American citizen since 1977.” (You
have to be a citizen to work full
time at the White House.)
“There are only five full-time
chefs in the kitchen, and two of
us — myself and the pastry
chef, Roland Mesnier — are
originally from France.”
Then he got to the heart of
the matter: “I could bring in
another Frenchman, but I think
that would be too many
French people. What
I really need is an American
who understands French
cooking. I want someone like
you, with your background
and extensive experience in
France.”
Who could have guessed
that my experience in

France would turn out to be the
biggest factor setting me apart
from other candidates for the White
House job?
When I agreed to submit my
application, I had no idea what an
ordeal I was sign ing up for. The
process began with a phone call from
the chief usher, who serves as the
general manager for all White House
operations. Chief Usher Gary
Walters called me to schedule a
personal interview, which went very
well. At the end, Gary presented
me with a serious load of paper,
including a lengthy form headed
“A Questionnaire for Sensitive
Positions.” Gary looked apologetic:
“This is a lot of work, I know, but
I need you to fill it out and get it
back to me as soon as possible.”
I worked like a dog on that paperwork
for three or four days, trying to
account for every place I’d ever
lived and every job I’d held since
my eighteenth birthday. I had to
remember employers’ names and
find contact information for each of
them. I was thirty years old and they
wanted details from the previous
twelve years, a period during which
I had moved around a lot, including my
time overseas. It was truly a relief
when I could finally call the chief
usher and report, “I’ve completed all
the paperwork.” He seemed surprised:
“Oh, you have the paperwork done
already? That’s great.”
I hand delivered my application at
the White House East Appointment
Gate. The guard called the ushers’
office, and after a few minutes,
Gary came out.
He thumbed through the pages and
then, apparently satisfied, asked, “Do
you have time right now to come in
and talk some more?” “Sure,” I replied.
He led me into a little room called
the Map Room. Pierre joined us,
and we sat down to talk.
“We’ve reviewed everything,” Gary
said, “and we’d like to offer you the
position.” He told me about the
salary range and some of the job
requirements, and then asked,
“Are you still interested?”
I smiled. “Yes, I’m still interested.”
So he discussed more details about
the job, including what still had to
happen before I could start work.
“As you might guess, we’ll have to
do a very thorough background check
before your final approval. There will
be some phone inquiries — the FBI

will call you in the coming weeks.”
To prepare me for what was yet
to come, he continued to describe
the process, and then concluded by
saying that it would probably take
the entire summer to complete
the background check. They didn’t
expect to bring me on till September.
So there I was, receiving a firm offer
around the first of June, and learning
that I had to wait till September.
That was a very long summer —
waiting and wondering what would
happen next. Could there possibly
be anything in my past that would
cause them to reject my application?
I didn’t know what would happen
when I went back to the Westin to
tell my boss about my plans. I decided
to be direct: “Chef, it looks like I have
a new position, but the job won’t
start for at least a couple months.”
After I explained the situation to
him, he surprised me, saying, “Wow!
That’s fantastic! In fact, we’re
honored that one of our staff is
going to work at the White House.
Just keep me informed of your plans
and how things are working out.”

About the Author

Chef John Moeller is a member of an
elite corps of chefs who have served
in the White House preparing très
soigné cuisine for three Presidents,
First Families, and their guests,
including world leaders like Tony Blair
and Nelson Mandela, and for famous
guests like Julia Child and Sophia
Loren. Over the course of his 13-year
career in the White House, he focused
on creating unique and one-of-a-kind
dishes that featured his trademark
use of fresh, seasonal ingredients
inspired by his classical French
training with an American twist.
To learn more about Dining
at the White House visit
diningatthewhitehouse.com
Reprinted with permission from
LifeReloaded Specialty Publishing
lifereloaded.com. All materials
copyright ©2013 LifeReloaded
Specialty Publishing LLC and John
Moeller.
President James Buchanan was
the 15th president, and is the only
president to have come from the
state of Pennsylvania. He was a
bachelor and his niece, Harriet
Lane, served as his official hostess
at the White House. The beautiful
china that he used as his
dinnerware at the White House
was manufactured by the French
manufacturer, Sèvres.