4

Right: Art Dubin will do

just about everything

to make a great meal

— except the carrots.

he pasta is boiling.
The chicken, smoth-
ered in mushrooms
and artichokes, is
baking. The mar-
' garine is sizzling.
The peach crisp, its top
just turning a warm cher-
ry-brown, is bubbling.
On the kitchen counter,
small bowls hold spinach
and mandarin orange
slices, their skins still
moist with droplets of
juice. The smells of fresh
basil and parsley fill the
z&mat, =.'a room.
Those addicted to salt; however, are about
to experience serious withdrawal
"Don't even ask for the salt shaker," the
chefs mother warns. "It will meet with
tremendous disapproval."
The maestro behind this gastronomic
symphony is Art Dubin, 27, of West Bloom-
field. Sitting in the white kitchen with
him are his mother and father, Su-
san and Howard, and a much-beloved
grandmother and two dogs who can't
wait to get their paws on some egg
yolks.
Mr. Dubin is the chef, but he's also
something of an expert on country
music (his tape collection would rival
that of the Country Music Hall of
Fame), keenly interested in religion
and an autistic savant.
Autism is a neurological disorder
which leaves some parts of the brain
highly functional, others less so. Art
has a milder version of the kind of
autism experienced by the lead char-
acter in the Rain Man movie, which
means he's extremely gifted in some
ways, disabled to varying degrees in
others.
Cooking, as anyone who has seen
Art in the kitchen can attest, is one
field in which he excels. He also has
the gift of an unusually supportive
family.
"He has loved to cook from the mo-
ment he was born," says his mother,
Susan.
So a little parental pride isn't un-
expected. But Rick Rogow isn't even
family. He's co-owner of Big Daddy's
Parthenon, where Art Dubin works.
"Art was already here when my
partner and I bought the place a couple of
years ago. His mother called me up and said,
Wly son's been working here and he'd like
to continue.' We talked, played a little Jew-
ish geography and I told her, `I'm not even
going to open for a couple of months, but give
me a call then and we'll see what we can do.'
"Three weeks before I open he comes to
the door and says, Tm Art Dubin and I want
to work for you.' So I told him, 'Come in the
morning tomorrow.' He's been with us ever
since.
"Art is the most dependable, most trust-
worthy, most attentive employee I have. He's
the kind of guy who'll say six months in ad-
vance, 'I'm going to a country music festival
and I need Sept. 28 off.'

"Of course he keeps kosher so he won't
eat here, though a couple of times he'll ask
me if he can take a salad home," Mr. Rogow
said.
"My partner and I say, 'Four more Art
Dubins and they could run the place by
themselves."
Art helped create Big Daddy's famous
New Idea Salad Dressing. And while he'd
like to give out the recipe, sort of, like many
chefs he leaves fans guessing. His only rev-
elation: 'The secret ingredient is the dill."
Art Dubin's day begins at 4 a.m. He takes
a shower and reads the newspaper. By 5:30
a.m. he's at work, preparing for lunch. He
doesn't drive, so his grandmother takes him
and picks him up, or sometimes a pal from
work will give him a ride home. His job re-
sponsibilities are varied, everything from
cooking to chopping. There's one exception.
"I don't do carrots," Art says. "No."
"He used to peel so many that his hands
would be orange when he came home," his
mother says, wincing.

Art learned some of what he knows from
the culinary arts program at Oakland Com-
munity College, of which he is a graduate.
That's where he fine-tuned his skills, where
he learned "how to be a host, work the hot
food line, plan a menu."
But a great deal of his ability to create a
meal clearly is that mysterious gift known
as talent, an innate skill for knowing what
meats and spices (usually garlic) and veg-
etables and pastas and sauces (Dijon mus-
tard is a favorite) will work together.
And while the Dubins' kitchen has its
share of cookbooks — The Passover Cook-
book, California Kosher, The Settlement
Cookbook, The Detroit Pistons' Cookbook
and The Joy of Cooking — they don't see

much use these days. Even the family's high-
ly coveted Florence Henderson Cookbook —
yes, the "Brady Bunch," Wesson Oil lady —
goes largely unused.
"Now I very rarely use a recipe," Art says.
"But in the early days I did."
Maybe there's an olive oil gene in the fam-
ily line.
"Our house has always had a lot of tu-
mult, people staying over, coming to eat,"
Art's mother Susan said.
She was raised in the Seven Mile and Liv-
ernois area, where "we ate a lot of seafood
and a lot of medium-rare."
Today, Susan continues her mother's pas-
sion for cooking, but her foods are more of
the chicken, vegetable, fruit variety than
that heavy stuff people used to believe was
healthy.
When Art's at the helm, though, her main
job is doing the dishes. She doesn't mind a
bit. And after the meal, everyone — includ-
ing the master chef himself — helps clean
up.
Howard's mother, Clara Dubin of
West Bloomfield, also loves to cook.
"My style is more Old European," she
says. "I make baked fish and baked
chicken and baked potatoes."
"You're known for your spaghetti,"
Art reminds her.
"Oh, and the brisket," Susan adds.
"Don't forget the brisket. And what
about your macaroni-and-cheese?"
Clara, who has a dinner date each
Tuesday with her grandson, says one
of the most amazing things about Art
is that "he can do all this cooking with-
out a timer." Art can have six things
cooking at once — two dishes in the
oven, one on the burner, one in a sep-
arate cooker — and he always knows
exactly when everything is done.
"I just remember," he says.
There's one family member whom
the cooking gene seems to have by-
passed. Art's brother Matt lives in
Chicago, where he's an accountant and
a genius in many other business areas,
his mother will assure you.
"He's not a chef, but he's an eater,"
she says, laughing. "Recently he came
to visit and Art surprised him with a
complete Shabbat dinner: gefilte fish
and chicken soup and homemade chal-
lah and chicken fingers and double-
baked potatoes and corn on the cob.
Boy, Matthew was salivating just hear-
ing about it."
He wouldn't leave, of course, without Art's
prized cookies. It isn't just Matt who has
to have them; once Matt's secretary took a
bite, she was smitten.

onday night, and often Thurs-
day, too, is "feast night" at the
Dubins' West Bloomfield
home. This is when Art will
prepare an entire meal for his family, the
likes of which would send Julia Child run-
ning back to an Introduction to Cooking
class.
"A typical meal consists of a whole turkey,
fresh bread, a vegetable, cole slaw or a sal-
ad with fresh dressing, pasta or rice," Su-

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