Trading Places, part III

Part III: Switching roles

“Just wait until I get you in my house,” Dale Zimmerman teased Chad Ellingson.

I was sitting in the backseat of Chad’s Chevy 3500 when I knew the idea to bring them all together had worked. Flanked to my left and right were Chef’s Alan and Dusty and if only I had the pages, I would retell the many stories of that pasture drive.

Ask his chefs and they’ll tell you Dale’s never one to shy away from a good-natured ribbing, but the restaurant owner had good reason.

“Here?” I heard one of the guys ask, followed by a brief hesitation. Chad had beckoned them outside the truck and as their chef shoes touched the tall grasses, they met the gaze of one of his Angus bulls. Masculine and stout, the 3-year-old paid no mind to the company who marveled at his stature. Eyes locked, stares held … and then came the smiles.

“This was my first time getting to see the beginning of what I love to do, which is cooking,” Alan said. “What I saw and heard makes me more excited to continue my passion.”

Well beyond a word, passion is one of many similarities chefs and ranchers share. Of course it may present itself in different ways, but when it comes to matters of long hours and late nights, traditions and legacy, commitment and follow-through, these guys speak the same language.

“As a chef, you get a real appreciation for what you’re doing and the food you’re cooking,” Dusty said.

“I don’t think most consumers realize what we do here on the ranch to produce genetics that enhance their eating experience in the restaurant,” Chad added.

23 miles. That’s all that stands between these two bookends of beef ’s entire story, and yet it’s rare for the teammates to come together. Sure, there’s the occasional dinner the Ellingson gang takes advantage of when in town or a Texas ranch tour Dale and Chef Dusty took last fall. Otherwise, the two sides shoulder their own responsibilities with precision and pride, confident that the other and everyone else in between will carry their own allotted weight when its their time to rise.

“To come out and see all that happens before it gets to my place, the care and the steps, it makes you proud,” Alan said.

The same could be said of the apron wearers. From dirt to dishes, it was a rather equal exchange for Chad as he walked through the doors of the Peacock and later the 40. It was Dale’s turn and he wanted the rancher to get a feel for what life is really like in his house.

“Look out. Watch your head!” The warnings were coming from behind the kitchen counter as Chef Dusty offered a lesson in grilling for the masses and, at the 40, Chef Alan took Chad into the dry-age cooler to cut, later season and eventually grill the steaks.

“It’s just like ranching,” Chad said, “very labor intensive. These guys put in a lot of sweat and long, hard hours, too.”

A cowboy hat atop his head, I watched as diners watched him deliver their plates. Answering questions, dispelling rumors — it was enough to suggest Chad take a second job, if only he had the time.

For the customers, a rare chance to connect to a world that’s right outside of town — one that keeps them in mind each day.

PS – to read more about what happened when chefs and rancher switched roles, check out the April edition of the Angus Journal.

And if you missed Wednesday’s and Thursday’s posts, be sure to catch up for more backstory on our restaurateur and rancher.

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