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Ina Joseph
Professor Anderson
COM Writing 201
5 May 2017
The Man Behind the Plate: A Day in the Life of a Bay State Chef
Eerily silent and totally still, the dining hall is barely illuminated by sunlight and stacks
of chairs still balance on tables at 9am. One or two students sit with their smoothies and bagels in
hand, books laid out in front of them on clean, white tables. A few cooks bustle about, filling up
glass dispensers with fruit water and taking down the remainder of the propped-up chairs. They
make small talk about their weekends and the weather as they pass each other behind the stoves
Commons for a day of international meals and hundreds of hungry students. Another hundred
arrive throughout the day as the early-shift cooks finish their morning-to-midafternoon shifts to
go home to their families or second jobs. Among these cooks is Orlando Andrade, Marciano’s
executive chef. By the time Orlando arrives, the scene at Bay State (the colloquial name for
Marciano among BU students), has changed from an empty superstructure to a buzzing social
space, the sounds of sizzling frying pans and chattering students fill every inch of the building.
As I sit at a small two person table on the top floor, sipping my glass of watermelon water,
Orlando makes his way towards me. He has on a classic all-white chef ensemble, dressed down
with black sneakers and a big white pin: “Special Request? I can help!” the pin declares in bright
green letters. His light, olive skin and round face coupled with the enthused “Good morning, how
impact on the dining hall atmosphere and service has been apparent. In fact, Marciano
Commons has been recently ranked by USA Today as the #1 college dining hall in the country.
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In the short time that Orlando’s been at Bay State, he’s placed a huge emphasis on getting to
know his team, gaining their trust, and teaching them everything he’s learned because “without
your employees, you’re not gonna get much done. If you’re a boss and your employees don’t like
you, don’t see eye-to-eye with you, or feel that you treat others unfairly, you’re not gonna get
100% support from your crew. I’m really hands on with my cooks… That’s how I build trust
with my employees”. Cooks can attest to Orlando’s hard work and initiative, having fairly
positive things to say about their experience working with him. Stacy Murray, a Bay State cook
for 23 years, says she can always find Orlando around to answer questions and guide cooks with
any recipe; “Ever since Orlando came here, everything has been very good. He’s a really good
person to talk to if you ever need help with something; he will give you advice on how to go
about things. He’s not gonna leave you in the dark.” His leadership qualities have clearly been an
effective and valued contribution to the Bay State staff, but his vision on fine dining got
cooking [as opposed to] just serving students. I’m in the food industry so food presentation is big
to me, you know, taste, quality of food, different sauces…” Orlando’s work ethic and humble
expertise in the kitchen came from over 22 years of hotel industry experience, it first took a bold
move at 16 to get him where he is now. High school never gave Orlando inspiration for future
career goals; he turned to Roxbury’s Madison Park School, which offered an alternative avenue
from college with a trade school in which you could take classes from cooking to mechanics to
carpentry. During a trial week in which students took a broad variety of classes, Orlando fell in
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love with his cooking and baking class. He went on to take more specified culinary classes
within the program and ever since then, he knew he wanted to cook for a living.
At the young age of 16, he took his limited trade school experience and applied to
Anthony’s Pier 4, a popular Boston restaurant “right on the water” near South Station. It was his
first real job and his first real taste of the cooking industry. Instead of being intimidated by the
strict owner and older culinary school students, he dove in head first and started learning
everything there was to know about the food industry, “from bake shop [skills] to dish [washing]
From that point on, I knew…you know, since now I have a job, I’m in high school… it was my
direction was to become an executive chef. But at that time, I didn’t have the funds and means to
go to college, like Johnson & Wales and all that, so my alternative was to be the best that I could
be experience-wise. So I just enjoyed cooking, loved cooking, tried different techniques, played
around with different ways of cooking. I knew I didn’t go to school [like the culinary students],”
Orlando said, “but I would just learn right along with them.”
His hands gestured emphatically as he talked about his experiences, his eyes bright while
describing the determination he had as a high school boy with a big goal. Orlando attributed his
independent, tenacious attitude to his father who came to the US from the Cape Verde Islands,
grade education. He came to this country and he knew what he wanted to do, since back home
that’s what he did—own little grocery stores—so he came here and opened up his own grocery
store and he was very successful. I didn’t want to go in that direction, but, you know, [I saw that]
he had a nice car and a lot of nice things. And he would say to me ‘If you want something you
Out of his two sisters, two brothers, mother, and father, only Orlando had a passion or cooking.
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Aside from the homemade meals his mother prepared for the family every night, Orlando’s
exposure to diverse cuisine primarily came from his first job at Anthony’s Pier 4 and the staff
there, who “believe it or not, had people from all over the world.” Five years later, at 21 years
old, Orlando embarked on his first hotel gig at Western Copley where his skills continued to
expand.
“In the hotel industry they have a lot of courses [and] competitions…like cooking
competitions. The GM [General Manager] would come down with the sales team, and as cooks
we would create our own meals, cook it, and present it. It was sort of like Chef Ramsay-type, but
in a hotel. You would cook, you would present your three-course meal—you would do a salad,
an entrée, and a desert—and you would have to be very creative. Then you’d have to go in front
of the judges and explain what you made, then they’d judge it according to the taste of the food.
Whoever won would get a plaque or a trophy or something.” Despite the high level of training
and education of most of Orlando’s colleagues at the Western Copley, Orlando was more than apt
to handle the pressure. His experience at Anthony’s Pier 4 gave him something that not all
more aggressive, it’s a lot hotter, you’re more on your own—there’s nobody to show you how to
do it, you’ve kind of got to figure it out on your own after you get the week or two [of] training.
You’re either gonna make it, you’re gonna be so-so, or you’re going to advance.” While many of
the Western Copley employees were knowledgeable college students with a background of
formal culinary education, they lacked the natural know-how Orlando had acquired at 16. “By
the time I got out of Anthony’s Pier 4 I was ready to become sous-chef because the way they
train you there… we put out functions, we put out parties, we make sauces, we used to cut fish
From portioning out foods and delegating lines at functions to preparing seafood,
Orlando had a range of skills that surpassed most rising young chefs, allowing him to thrive at an
establishment as busy and prominent as the Western Copley. He remembers upwards of 3,000
people sitting at tables on Thanksgiving Day alone, all waiting to taste the food Orlando and his
colleagues meticulously prepared. The missed holidays with his family were worth it if it meant
Western Hotel in Waltham, and an executive chef at Sheraton Braintree before landing the
executive chef job at Marciano Commons. Although he never went back to school to attain a
formal degree, he takes classes and attends competitions to continue learning and growing in his
culinary skills “every chance [he] gets.” He has proven throughout his career that the necessity of
a culinary degree to achieve big things in the cooking industry is “a bunch of baloney.”
“The college degree is a big factor in a lot of companies hiring you because they say,
‘you don’t know anything about business, you don’t know how to run a business because you
don’t have the college degree,’ and all that. My goal was this: I don’t have that, but what I do
have is my experience that speaks for itself. I could put out functions, and these 500 people will
leave here happy, and they will come back.” Even when his own family doubted his ability to go
far without a formal education, he told himself: “nothing was gonna stop me from becoming an
executive chef because that was my goal.” His perseverance, coupled with a healthy dose of
confidence, makes Orlando perfectly aware of what sets him apart from other chefs in the
industry.
“In the business that I’m in I’ve seen a lot of chefs come and go [and] come and go. I
know how to run a function… I know how to multitask, I know how to get people to work with
me, I’m really good with people, hands on with people who want to learn—I teach them what
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I’ve learned—and it pays off.” Even after years of hands-on, professional chef work, his
interview at Bay State two years ago consisted of questions second-guessing his qualification for
the job and his ability to “fit in” without a degree in his background. But he taught himself
everything he needed to know, networked with other executive chefs and general managers, and
proved himself worthy of the position. Now, the fruits of his labor are evident every day through
State University to earn his Master’s degree in social work and his daughter a feisty
kindergartener with a mind of her own. “I don’t know if it’s in the genes or what, but she’s very
aggressive. She won’t let you help her do anything: ‘No, no, no I got this! I got this!’” he says,
laughing as he imitates his six-year-old’s spunk, “She doesn’t want any help. So I see that she
already wants to do things on her own.” Whatever his daughter decides she wants to do in the
future, “as long as she works hard in pursuit of her goals, I’ll be supportive,” he says. With his
management and culinary expertise admired and appreciated by staffs and students alike (“The
food is excellent. The staff is superlative” says BU freshman Macken Murphy), clearly this
mozzarella omelet on the first floor, the cooks gather around to have their morning staff meeting
behind the pasta station. I immediately see Orlando- his all-white uniform and tall chef’s hat
sticking out in the sea of red polos and black aprons and baseball caps. As they discuss
tomorrow’s atypical schedule and ways to keep up morale as the school year winds down, a tour
group led by a BU student makes their way through the dining hall. As potential students and
their parents make their way through Marciano, a girl looks over at the vegetable primavera
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linguini with wide eyes; “That smells SO good,” she says loudly. The tour guide smiles and says
“Right? Honestly, Bay State has the best food on campus, it’s always so good.”
Orlando’s ears perk up at this passing compliment. Subtly looking back, he shyly smiles