Once inside his work space -- which is unusual for a restaurant kitchen because open flames are prohibited and the appliances are electric, not gas -- DeFilippo is not required to follow additional security procedures. He says there are no modern equivalents of courtiers who tasted the king's food for poison. DeFilippo orders his ingredients from regular restaurant suppliers.
To deliver to the CIA, food-supply trucks must be driven by U.S. citizens with Social Security numbers, so their backgrounds can be checked. Trucks may pass through an X-ray building and may be sniffed by the canine unit. DeFilippo has no idea, and he isn't all that interested.
Fred DeFilippo studied at the Culinary Institute of America -- known to chefs as the CIA -- before being hired by the agency with the same abbreviation.
(Mark Finkenstaedt For The Washington Post)
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Veal, CIA Style
Sauteed Veal Scaloppine With Peaches and Black Mission Figs
2 servings
Executive chef Fred DeFilippo's most popular recipe at the CIA features fresh figs and peaches -- two ingredients available to him now at the CIA although these ingredients won't be in neighborhood supermarkets until early summer. DeFilippo uses only fresh ingredients, but we substituted frozen peaches and omitted the figs (you may wish to wait until the fruits are in season). Nonetheless, the subtle interplay of the sweet fruit, earthy sage and pungent blue cheese is memorable.
2 large fresh peaches, peeled, quartered and pitted (may substitute frozen sliced peaches, thawed, drained and patted completely dry)
10 tablespoons ruby port
2 tablespoons flour
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Four 3-ounce veal scaloppine, pounded very thin
About 2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 small shallot, finely chopped
2 tablespoons finely chopped country ham (may substitute pancetta)
3 fresh sage leaves, left whole
6 to 10 tablespoons beef broth
3 fresh black mission figs, halved (optional)
4 tablespoons salted butter, cut into pieces, at room temperature
2 tablespoons crumbled Gorgonzola cheese (optional)
In a small bowl, combine the peaches and 2 tablespoons of the port. Set aside for 1 hour.
Place the flour on a shallow plate and season with salt and pepper to taste. Lightly dust each veal scaloppine with flour on each side.
In a medium skillet over medium-high heat, heat 1 tablespoon of oil. Add the veal and cook, turning once, until browned on each side. Transfer to a plate.
Carefully wipe out the skillet, return to medium to medium-high heat and heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil. Add the garlic, shallot, ham and sage leaves and cook, stirring occasionally, until the ham is crisped, about 2 minutes. Reduce the heat to medium-low, add the peaches and the port they marinated in, along with the remaining 8 tablespoons port and the broth to the skillet and cook, stirring frequently and scraping the bottom of the skillet for 2 minutes, until the sauce is reduced to about 3/4 cup. Add the veal, plus figs if using, and stir just until combined. Remove from the heat, add the butter, a few pieces at a time, and tilt the skillet until the butter is incorporated into the sauce.
Place 2 pieces of veal on each plate, and spoon the sauce and fruit over the top. If desired, top with cheese.
Recipe tested by Yuki Noguchi; e-mail questions to food@washpost.com
Per serving: 636 calories, 25 gm protein, 25 gm carbohydrates, 44 gm fat, 152 mg cholesterol, 19 gm saturated fat, 737 mg sodium, 2 gm dietary fiber
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What still gets him excited is the quality of the job itself.
"I feel like a kid who's been given the keys to the candy store," he grins.
DeFilippo, 33, was born in Highland Falls, N.Y., into a large Italian family, and most of his relatives owned restaurants. His father was a tailor at nearby West Point.
His father made his own wine, hunted and fished, and grew vegetables in the garden. But he was opposed to owning a restaurant. It was too hard.
"And he's right," DeFilippo laughs. He has the dark circles under his eyes that mark his profession, even though he has been keeping relatively cushy CIA hours for a year.
Whereas the typical chef works long into the night, especially on weekends, DeFilippo works from 5 a.m. to 3 p.m., Monday through Friday.
For his first year on the job, he had to start his commute early to get to work on time -- arriving at 4:45 a.m. to allow himself time to be escorted to his post by 5 a.m. Because he had never visited the area before he was hired, he rented an apartment in Leesburg, thinking it was close to Langley. He moved to Alexandria last month.
He is single and says having evenings and weekends free is a rare privilege. "A chef's dream, in every way," he says. "The best thing to ever happen to my life."
DeFilippo also loves his relatively free rein over the menu -- six entrees on a recent day. He is required to change it every week and to make everything fresh every day. If he serves lasagna, he hand-rolls the noodles in the morning. "You can't cheat," he says.
"If it's cantaloupe sorbet, it has to be made of cantaloupe. Quality . . . is an important part of the prestige of the executive dining room."
This emphasis means DeFilippo gets a generous food budget. He knows not to put foie gras or caviar on the menu every day, but he uses all of the fresh tomatoes and ripe fruit he needs -- ingredients that were off-limits to him at other jobs because their processed versions were cheaper.
For his entrees, he draws inspiration from his Italian roots but serves dishes from all over the world. The most popular of his CIA entrees is veal with peaches and figs. He also gets ideas from his three line cooks.
If the CIA director is entertaining guests, DeFilippo is not told who they are or where they are from, but he might get a list of dietary restrictions -- no pork or alcohol, for example. The grams of fat in each dish are listed on the menu, but that doesn't hamper him.
"I am of the school: if it's good, eat it," he says.
And while most restaurants have a high staff turnover, DeFilippo's three crew members have the same clearance he does, so they're not likely to leave. Besides, they get along well. "A chef is only as good as his cooks, and these guys can fill any blank for me," he says.
So how's he doing? Well, that may a secret. Goss once came back to praise him after a meal -- DeFilippo is not allowed to say what was served -- and that was a big deal.
But for the most part, he can't really say.
"No news is good news around here. I look for empty plates, happy faces. You know, most of the time, the people working here, for them, the food is secondary."
Emily Kaiser last wrote for Food about making dinner for a family of four for $10.
