Jason Sandeman

Tag: Papa Sandemano

  • I Got Called Out for Arguing Instead of Building — They Were Right

    I Got Called Out for Arguing Instead of Building — They Were Right

    And why that changes how I use this site from now on.

    I got called out on Threads for arguing instead of building.

    They had a point.

    I’ve been:

    • arguing with people trying to prove they’re wrong
    • breaking down their logic in my head
    • thinking of ways to “show them”

    …and then leaving it there.

    Nothing captured. Nothing built.

    I’ve been doing the hard part—thinking.

    And skipping the part that compounds.

    Giving it all away to Threads.

    It’s draining. And it goes nowhere.

    This isn’t new for me.

    I’ve seen what happens when you focus on the system instead of reacting:

    • Ran a 250-seat terrace with two kitchens
    • Same menu, same execution, high volume
    • Staff included high school kids

    Everyone said it wouldn’t work.

    It did. Because we built a system that could handle pressure.

    I learned this early. Way back in culinary school.

    Chef Bishop never answered questions directly.
    It was always:

    “What do YOU think—and why?”

    If you got it, he’d point to his head:

    “Now you understand.”

    Annoying as hell at the time.

    But that’s the difference between following steps… and actually knowing what you’re doing.

    So here’s the shift:

    Every argument becomes something that lives on my site.

    Not just “who’s right”
    …but what system is behind it

    Papa Sandemano’s isn’t just recipes.

    It’s a kitchen where I break down:

    • why things work
    • where they fail
    • how to actually understand them

    Not just follow steps.

    If you’ve ever followed instructions and still messed it up—
    it’s not you.

    You just weren’t shown the system.

    Stick around.

  • So Chef Says to Mini-Papa: ‘How Canadian!’ — A Lesson in Simplicity (With a Killer Stir-Fry)

    So Chef Says to Mini-Papa: ‘How Canadian!’ — A Lesson in Simplicity (With a Killer Stir-Fry)

    GET TO THE POINT, PAPA—JUST GIVE ME THE RECIPE!

    The Story: So Chef Says to Me…

    Fifteen years ago, I wasn’t “Papa” yet. I was just a sous chef—young, eager, and utterly convinced that more was always better:

    • ✅ More ingredients.
    • ✅ More sauce.
    • ✅ More flair.

    And then there was Chef.

    We called him Maurice, but he’ll always just be Chef to me. You could be knee-deep in the weeds—thirty tickets in, the line on fire—and Chef would waltz in, put down his cocktail, tie on his black apron over a perfectly pressed chef jacket, and calmly get to work. Within minutes, chaos became calm. It was maddening to work with him, but the man was a master, and you couldn’t help but learn.

    One night, Chef turned to me and said, “Make me a stir-fry.”

    It seemed simple enough. Stir-fry is easy, right? Just throw a bunch of stuff into a pan, douse it in sauce, and voilà! So that’s exactly what I did. I grabbed every vegetable I could find:

    • ✅ carrots
    • ✅ celery
    • ✅ onions
    • ✅ mushrooms
    • ✅ bell peppers
    • ✅ bean sprouts
    • ✅ choi tips.

    Then came the sauces:

    • ✅ soy
    • ✅ teriyaki
    • ✅ oyster
    • ✅ sambal
    • ✅ sesame oil
    • ✅ hell, I might’ve added plum sauce just for kicks.

    It was a kaleidoscope of flavors and colors, a masterpiece (or so I thought).

    I plated it up and handed it to Chef. He took the dish with his signature aloofness, gingerly used his fork to lift a small amount to his mouth, and tasted it.

    He sighed.

    Then, without a word, he handed the dish back to me.

    That maddening smile spread across his face as he stood there. I was dumbfounded.

    “What the fuck, Chef?” I asked.

    He grinned and, with that signature look—half smirk, half mystery—said, “It tasted very…Canadian. Good job. It’s like what you’d cook at a Chinese buffet in the Prairies.”

    Ouch.

    “Too much going on,” he continued. “Onions, garlic, soy, sambal, teriyaki, six kinds of vegetables—why? You’re stacking flavors like it’s a lasagna. Keep it simple. Respect the ingredients. They taste good—why are you trying to hide them?”

    That moment was a gut punch—but also a revelation.

    Chef taught Papa something he’ll never forget: simplicity isn’t boring—it’s bold. Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the best. Take that VH Sweet-and-Sour Sauce, for example. There’s no shame in using it. Chef would say, “It’s not like all Asians make their own soy sauce.” Sure, you can make your own sauce if you’ve got time, but why get cute about it when the jarred stuff gets the job done?

    Years later, that lesson came full circle with today’s recipe. It’s the anti-buffet stir-fry: crisp tri-colored peppers, red onion, just enough sweet-and-sour sauce to moisten, and a handful of chili-lime peanuts for a kick. That’s it. Simple, clean, and damn good.

    The Recipe

    Fine! Here’s the recipe! Sometimes Papa gets distracted. Thanks for sticking with Papa.

    Peppers with Sweet-and-Sour Sauce and Chili Peanuts

    Total Time: ~10 minutes | Serves: 2-4

    Ingredients

    • 1 fl oz vegetable oil
    • 1 small red onion, medium dice (1 cm)
    • 1 small red pepper, medium dice (1 cm)
    • 1 small yellow pepper, medium dice (1 cm)
    • 1 small green pepper, medium dice (1 cm)
    • 1/2 fl oz Shaoxing wine (or eyeball it—you’re not auditioning for Top Chef)
    • 2 fl oz VH Sweet-and-Sour Sauce
    • A handful of lime-and-chili-flavored peanuts

    Method

    1. Heat the Oil: Heat the vegetable oil over medium-high heat in a wok until shimmering.
    2. Start with Onions: Add the diced red onion and cook for 1 minute, just until they soften.
    3. Add the Peppers: Toss in the diced peppers. Stir-fry for another 1 minute, keeping them crisp.
    4. Deglaze with Shaoxing Wine: Sprinkle the Shaoxing wine over the vegetables and let it cook off. This step builds the flavor—don’t skip it!
    5. Sauce It Up: Add the VH Sweet-and-Sour Sauce. Stir and bring it to a gentle simmer. Lower the heat and let it cook for another minute.
    6. Add the Peanuts: Remove the wok from heat and toss in a handful of peanuts for crunch and a little zing.
    7. Taste and Adjust: Taste the dish. Adjust with salt and pepper if needed (though it might already be perfect).

    Papa’s Notes

    • Quick and Crisp: The short cooking time keeps the veggies vibrant. If they’re mushy, you’ve gone too far.
    • Peanuts are the MVP: I used kettle-cooked lime-and-chili peanuts (Compliments brand). If you can’t find them, use plain roasted peanuts with a squeeze of lime and a pinch of chili powder.

    Papa Wanna Get Something Off Papa’s Chest

    “Hey Papa–what’s the deal? You’re using VH sauce? I thought you were a chef?” – A smart-ass apprentice, probably

    No Sauce Shame: VH Sweet-and-Sour Sauce is the real deal when you’re short on time or just need something simple. Chef Maurice once told me, “It’s not like all Asians make their own soy sauce.” Convenience doesn’t equal compromise—it’s about using the right tool for the job.

    Make It Your Own Later: If you want to make your own sauce, we can tackle that another day. But for now? Crack open that jar and let it do the heavy lifting.

    Don’t have Shaoxing wine and can’ use it as an excuse for an Asian-Market excursion? Don’t sweat it, sherry (or even white wine) will do here-the alcohol is what promotes the flavour.

    Optional Add-Ons

    Papa knows it can be tempting to add more to this, so that it can shine better, right? Keep it simple, and don’t complicate the flavors. The only thing Papa might do to bring a little extra flair would be to garnish with thinly sliced Asian-Style scallions.

    Have you tried this recipe? Share your thoughts or variations in the comments below! And don’t forget to subscribe for more Papa Sandemano recipes and lessons.