High-stakes cuisine - Julie Traves

On the stovetop, a honey-ginger reduction is simmering. Grilled vegetables cool on a rack nearby. And trays of brilliant-orange carrot pulp stand at the ready, perhaps for garnishing plates of quail with scallop and raspberry mousse, or for a chipotle avocado sorbet.

For chef Martin Buijsrogge, it's a typical Monday here on the 68th floor of a Toronto office tower. Down the hall, William Downe, the chief executive officer of the Bank of Montreal, toils away in his office.

At a time when shareholders are demanding more accountability on executive compensation and perks, Bay Street bosses like to keep quiet about their on-site chefs and private dining rooms. But high above the city, deals are done over rack of lamb served on bone china.

At such Canadian corporate top dogs as Royal Bank of Canada, Bank of Nova Scotia and Onex Corp., the executive dining tradition continues to flourish. In the United States, Christian Paier's company Private Chefs Inc. is placing a growing number of chefs at companies ranging from design houses to mining offices to the Federal Reserve Board. Chefs often do more than just dish up meals in the office-tower kitchen. “Some people fly their chef to Alaska to get fresh salmon,” Mr. Paier says. “Money is not the object here.”
Companies aim to impress guests with culinary feats by private chefs. Clients will order up “five kilos of beluga caviar at a company party (even if) they would have enough with one kilo,” Mr. Paier says. “It's about showing off.”

At the Bank of Montreal, flaunting it starts with the stately setting. The club room and dining rooms sport the names of long-dead bank presidents. Tables are set with cloth napkins in artful fans, silver cutlery and Villeroy & Boch dishes. The dining area is so high up that in a strong wind, the skyscraper sways enough that diners can see the chandeliers rock slightly.

In addition to Mr. Buijsrogge, who worked at the Royal York Hotel before the bank, the kitchen is staffed by a pastry chef and two sous-chefs. Since Mr. Buijsrogge loves to experiment with ingredients, a typical daily menu might include simple tuna steaks with jasmine rice, or appetizers such as house-cured salmon with bouquets of mini daikon in a chipotle dressing.

For special guests — a delegation from the Bank of Bermuda, say, or a star from the Maple Leafs — the menu kicks up a notch. The King of Sweden asked for “very small portions of food.” So the kitchen whipped up sushi, duck confit tarts and deep-fried oysters. “You can't have dinner for the Pope and we're serving a burger on a bun,” Mr. Buijsrogge says. “It's a showpiece for the bank.”

The dining room is aimed at top executives, and the tab for meals appears to be on the house.

Some firms take a lower-key approach to feeding staff. At law firm McCarthy Tétrault, there are no showpiece dining rooms or sets of bone china. But every morning, the on-site kitchen staff bakes 1,500 cookies by 9 a.m. The company cookie jar is filled with peanut butter, shortbread and chocolate chunk varieties— some of which are shipped to clients in signature silver boxes.

The Toronto office also serves buffet dinners to staff working overtime, with favourites running toward comfort food such as chicken cacciatore and beef lasagna. In fact, the chef's tomato sauce is so sought after that she bottles it and auctions it off at company fundraisers.

At the more full-service executive kitchens, chefs develop an intimate knowledge of employees' tastes and dietary needs. Nick Lorenz, the cook for Las Vegas liquor distributor Southern Wine and Spirits, jokes that his bonus hinges on senior managing director Larry Ruvo's cholesterol level.

“We really don't cook with any butter, any dairy or anything like that,” says the 29-year-old chef. “Larry's diet is very strict. Everything is organic. No beef. No sugar.”

At the Bank of Montreal, Mr. Buijsrogge tracks which VPs want shots of wheat grass in the morning and which ones scoff down eggs and bacon every day. And, though he insists the executives are “not like princes and princesses,” he will honour special requests – like one woman's yen for peanut butter and banana muffins.

This pampering doesn't come cheap. In the United States, Mr. Paier pegs chef salaries at $60,000 to $150,000 a year. Spending on ingredients is also lavish. “It's like being a sculptor in the 17th Century working for a king,” he says.

Mr. Lorenz says he uses his “very lenient” budget to equip his kitchen with ultra-specialized toys. “There really are no constraints,” he says.

Mr. Buijsrogge's kitchen is a bit more frugal. While he can serve such costly dishes as deboned quail stuffed with foie gras, he estimates that BMO's dinners cost the bank $25 to $30 a plate.

Robin Jay, author of The Art of the Business Lunch, says executive kitchens help keep sensitive negotiations under wraps.

Despite the luxe surroundings and elaborate meals, executives are generally done within 45 minutes, says Mr. Buijsrogge. And most choose mineral water over wine. “Even though it looks very nice, this place is for business.”

A corporate chef's secret tomato sauce When Maria “Rosa” Machado started at McCarthy Tétrault 18 years ago as a “coffee hostess,” she pushed a cart around and rang a bell to let the lawyers know it was coffee time. But there were no cooks on-site, so she would occasionally bring in homemade food for staff events. Even some lucky clients got a taste of her dishes. Soon, clients were requesting her staples at meetings — and Ms. Machado, 58, moved in front of the stove full-time. Among her hits: this made-from-scratch tomato sauce.