On a crisp December morning the quiet, unsuspecting township of Santa Ynez awoke to a clamor of activity as 14 students from Brooks Institute of Photography descended upon Trattoria Grappolo.

Brooks students focus on Grappolo

 

The students, part of the culinary photography program at Brooks, had come to photograph virtually the entire menu in a matter of a few hours. It was no small undertaking.

 

Fighting off the morning chill, the students gathered in front of Grappolo, normally serene at 8 a.m., clutching coffee, clipboards and a dream. This was their final experience before venturing out into the world to make their mark as professional photographers. Brooks instructor Bill Robbins kept the throng in check as they awaited the arrival of Grappolo owner and chef Leonardo Curti. Food stylist Claire Stancer arrived, cold and without coffee. Pointed in the direction of The Roasted Bean, she returned smiling. A beautiful day was unfolding.

Leonardo, his thick black hair and goatee framing a broad smile, arrived in a big white pickup and announced that he must take his twin daughters to school but would be right back.

 

The anticipation built. Meanwhile Giorgio, Leonardo’s younger brother, had started the fire in the pizza oven and had begun preparations for what would be anything but a typical day at Trattoria Grappolo.

Leonardo returned, introductions were made and the adventure began. Light fixtures and reflectors were hastily assembled; tables were dressed; laptops flickered — the activity was hectic yet organized.

 

Stancer, with the assistance of photographer Deborah Denker, moved like a dancer from one group to the next, steaming hot pizzas in hand, offering tips on where to position the glass of wine. “Who’s ready?” Claire’s voice echoed through the restaurant. “Is that the one with the prosciutto?” She handed plates of exquisitely prepared food to eager students and guided them through a positioning and placement ritual.

While it might appear to the unsuspecting onlooker like some sort of invasion by a group of young, blue jean-clad 20-somethings, it really was part of the “real life” experience provided by Robbins, the institute’s culinary photography instructor, to help prepare the students for the tough challenges they will face working on location.

“This is very different from the studio experience,” remarked Robbins as he shot the fiery interior of Grappolo’s pizza oven. “When you’re on location, you have to deal with all sorts of variables, like inconsistent lighting, limited space and sources of power. This is what the students will face in the real world.”

 

Leonardo’s distinctive voice boomed across the room, calling out in Italian as he prepared various dishes and worked with his team to keep the flow of food moving. Becky Reams, a project manager and one of the Brooks students hoping to make this day’s work a key part of her portfolio, put it in perspective: “I know that I’m going to be working on shoots in locations where the comforts of the studio aren’t going to be there, and I want to be prepared. Sometimes it’s not very glamorous, but it’s fun, and we get to eat all this delicious food when we’re done.”

 

As each dish was photographed, it was taken to a large table known as the graveyard. Hungry students dashing to and fro stopped momentarily to savor the delicious preparations. A quick bite of crostini here, a forkful of gnocchi there -- it was a frenzied assemblage, each team becoming an island of digital magic. Alfonso, another brother in the Curti clan, arrived to join the team behind the bar.

A wide-eyed, smiling Claire leaned across the bar and stopped to breathe, “Oh, that’s beautiful. Does that need sauce? It’s perfect just the way it is. Oh God, I love it.”

 

To say the least, she is passionate about her work. As a food stylist, her role was to keep the food looking sumptuous and beautiful every step of the way. There was, after all, a sense of urgency, because the hot dishes would hold that special look for only so long. Once cooled, the food would begin to look less appealing to the lens.

“When the dish comes out there’s a window of maybe five minutes to get the shot. I work with the students on the little things that have a big impact — a touch of basil here, a bit of carrot there, a little sprits of olive oil — it’s amazing how these things impact the outcome,” she said. “The real magic happens when beautiful food comes together with light, perspective and the masterful eye of the photographer.”

 

As 11 a.m. approached, the mêlée was reduced to a flutter as the last items were transformed into bits of digital magic and the main dining room was quickly restored to its former state. That night, unsuspecting guests would dine in the shadow of hopeful, young photographers who, only hours earlier, had turned Trattoria Grappolo into a three-ring culinary circus.

From behind the bar, Leonardo, stirring some absurdly delicious sauce, smiled: “These kids are really great; it’s impressive to see how fast they work and how well they’ve captured the essence of what we are trying to achieve with our food here at Grappolo.” 

As the first lunch guests appeared, the students moved swiftly out to the banquet room to consume the remaining morsels of Grappolo’s finest fare. Robbins stayed behind to get a few shots of Leonardo’s new cookbook. All that remained to be captured were the desserts — not so easy when you’ve got ice cream melting on top of warm, flowerless chocolate cake — Claire Stancer to the rescue.

 

Finally, well ahead of schedule and with cameras, tri-pods, lights and laptops packed away, the group gathered in the banquet room, where an obviously impressed Leonardo presented each with a letter of appreciation and a Grappolo gift card. He spoke for a moment about the importance of their work and the opportunity that lay ahead.

 

“I love what these creative young people are doing,” Leonardo said, “and I think it’s fantastic for them to have this work in their portfolios.”

For some it is the first compensation they will receive for their professional services as photographers.