Monkeys and ducks: A chef's tale

During Sears' young years, his father worked as a Qantas Airways supervisor. The Sears family made their way back and forth between Hawaii and San Mateo, experiencing the high-quality service the airline provided. This was one of the building blocks to Sears' culinary style.

"It was definitely a big influence," said Sears. "The atmosphere was professional, but also comfortable and relaxed."

This "understated elegance" became the hallmark for his cooking career. Out of high school, Sears originally didn't know he wanted to be a chef. He had an interest in food though and parlayed it into a small-time operation known as Dinner for Two, in which he would cook for small parties in private settings. The food bug began to seriously bite but it was a television show that really made him dig in.

"There was this BBC show by Keith Floyd I got into," said Sears. "He would go around Europe to different regions, showcasing and cooking the food in real time. He was genuinely passionate about food, which helped me find the push I needed to start."

Spears eventually talked his way into 231 Ellsworth, a high-end restaurant in downtown San Mateo. Though he never actually made it into the kitchen, his year spent as a server taught him two things: glimpses of how great food is prepared and that he preferred the white hat of the chef over the white apron of the waiter.

"I forced myself to work so I could learn the front of the house," explained Spears. "I walked away from the experience with a high level of standards that I could use."

Spears moved next into the private catering sector. His main concept, which he would become one of his signature items, was thematic dinners. These sit down affairs usually incorporated food, music and props around some type of commonality, such as the color red or the movie "Casablanca."

The idea of working at The Dining Room, another high-end San Mateo landmark, popped into his head one morning in late 1998. It was a place he had eaten at as a child - a stalwart of continental dining around for as long as Sears could remember. On a whim, he gathered his portfolio and dropped by. His conversations with the owner revealed The Dining Room might be up for sale.

Not being one to resist fate, Sears bought the restaurant and started paying monthly rent to the building's owners.

"It was a spot I truly loved," said Sears. "It was a little run down, but showed much promise."

After transforming the tiny, intimate interior to an old Hawaiian plantation setting, Sears opened for business and quickly filled the reservation books and small tables. He used a French cooking technique to put out dishes which wowed most who tried them. His prix fixe and monthly thematic menus put the restaurant on par with the culinary greats of San Francisco.

And then it all came crashing down.

As Sears described, a combination of factors like Sept. 11, the dot-com bust and a general downturn in the economy hurt business. The Dining Room was only open Tuesdays through Saturdays for dinner and Sears was unwilling to expand the hours more or take large parties for fear of ruining the quality of food and intimate atmosphere. Though these hard-line decisions caused him to shut down in April of 2003, he had no regrets.

"I knew my limitations," said Sears. "I knew those things [expanded hours, larger parties] would impact the quality experience."

Sears took time off to catch up on bills and lay low. He did odd culinary jobs to meet his expenses and also keep up the lease on The Dining Room. He'd thought about getting out of the building but, as he put it, he "really still loved the place."

It was his customers who brought him back into the game. Calls left on his voice mail wondered when he would open again. With such an outpouring, Sears got motivated to create a monthly gourmet dining get-together known as the Drunk Monkey Gourmet Club.

The Drunk Monkey Gourmet Club, named for a friend's sketch of a martini-toting monkey, swung into action early last year. Sears contacted those who were loyal fans and they responded, selling out his first dinner and most others since. He designs the menus around themes, as he has done before, with creative names like "Mambo In Your Mouth" and "Maui Wow'I." Reservations are required and he generally doesn't take parties larger then four at any one of the small number of available tables.

One of Sears' earliest menus, which he did directly in response to legislation banning foie gras production in California, drew not just diners but also protesters. Sears felt strongly against the ban of the controversial method of force feeding ducks for later human consumption and worried how it would affect California's only producer, Guillermo Gonzalez of Sonoma Foie Gras.

After the one dinner, things quieted down until a small item in the San Jose Mercury News' food section about an April 2005 duck-themed dinner, co-hosted by Viognier chef Scott Giambastiani, drew protest phone calls. The two chefs were on top of things though, visiting Gonzalez's farm to see first-hand how the ducks are treated. Their visit and additional research convinced them there was no issue.

"Are ducks there mishandled and abused?" said Sears. "We didn't see any ducks being abused or close to death."

To drive home their crusade, Gonzalez was invited to speak at the pricey, sold out dinner. As protesters marched outside, those within dined on duck, including foie gras, while the farmer spoke.

"It brought the night to a whole different level," said Sears. "People were very interested to see what he had to say."

Sears is planning another duck dinner and lecture on May 14. While he doesn't expect the turnout will be as high, he is committed to righting what he sees as a wrong.

"I'm standing up and showing how I feel about this," he said. Sears has also posted his viewpoints on his Web site, located at http://www.chefjonsears.com/.