The history behind the name…

The name Earnest Provisions is near and dear to my heart. It is named after my grandfather Ernest Weil. My Opa Ernie was born in 1924 in Landau, Germany.  His family led a normal life. His father was a cattle dealer, the home, a simple house above the stables. The kitchen had a coal oven and an icebox. The youngest of three boys, his mother would often choose Ernie to be her helper in the kitchen. He was taught how to cook and bake well before the age of 13. In 1933 his life dramatically changed when Hitler took over the government. In 1939 he was forced to escape Nazi Germany. All alone at the age of 14, he boarded the S.S. St. Louis, the last ship out of Germany before Hitler halted all further departures. Unable to land in Cuba, he found himself in an orphanage in Enghien, France. By chance, he was selected to get a scholarship at the famous Le Cordon Bleu cooking school in Paris. About two weeks before the Nazis invaded, he left France and arrived in America at the age of 15. There, he worked his way up from a dishwasher, to a cook, and eventually to a pastry chef. In 1948 with the help of his father-in-law, he opened up Fantasia Confections in San Francisco, CA.

His famous Fantasia bakery stood on California Street, less than a mile away from his home. Fantasia was a San Francisco treasure for over 40 years. It was considered one of the finest and most creative pastry shops in the entire country. As a small boy I would visit Fantasia, taking in the sights and smells, sampling petit fours and hazelnut truffles, butter cookies, danish and croissants. However, my most vivid memories of my grandfather’s cooking happened at his home at 22 Commonweath Avenue. It was at this grand home which invoke my earliest memories of my family gathered around a table. On the buffet against the wall rested a whole leg of lamb or a grand prime rib roast studded with garlic cloves. Sides of creamed spinach, German coleslaw, and glazed carrots accompanied the large meats along with mint jelly or horseradish cream. My Opa sat at the head of the table. He would tell jokes, often laughing with his bigger than life laugh, his belly bouncing up and down. He was one of the most compassionate people I have ever known. Although he was persecuted for being Jewish at such a young age, he raised his family to be tolerant and loving to all people. He was generous with his wealth, giving to others and sharing his love of baking with all. 

I was about six or seven years old when my grandfather started teaching me how to bake in his Commonwealth kitchen. We started out with chocolate chip cookies and chocolate covered popcorn. It wasn’t long before the lessons became much more advanced. We made puff pastry dough from scratch, layered cakes covered in coffee crunch candy, and Fantasia’s famous florentine cookie-an almond lace cookie with candied orange and dark chocolate. 

My personal culinary story is much less exciting or inspiring than that of my Grandfather’s. After working in professional kitchens for 20 years, I want to take a break from the hustle and bustle of the restaurant world and get back to the basics. Often as chefs and cooks we are doing so much and working so fast and hard that we lose sight of what it really means to share your food with another person. I want to be able to slow down and really think about the food I’m working with. I want to know the families I’m cooking for. I want to strengthen my love of cooking and share that love with others. I want to help people gather around a familiar table for dinner as I remember doing in my grandfather’s home.