Spontaneous consumption

Tables are turned at Candace Conley’s Broken Arrow cooking studio

Twenty racks of lamb stand like teepees on the kitchen prep table while a jocular sommelier waxes poetic about German vineyard farmers who drive their tractors naked “for the good of the grape.” Placed in front of me is a bowl of steaming snails, liberated from their homes and sitting atop a chunky tomato sauce. The aroma tells me there is just enough basil mixed with those amatory hunks of slow-simmered tomatoes, and I’m intrigued to eat a snail that isn’t drowning in butter and garlic. 

The theme for Candace Conley’s spring pop-up dinner is regional Italian, and it occurs to me that The Girl Can Cook!—Conley’s cooking studio and classroom in downtown Broken Arrow—could not be farther from Italy. But, by the time the second glass of wine is poured by Tulsa sommelier Joe Breaux and the pasta course is introduced by Conley, I am closer to the Umbria region of Italy than I have ever been.

Pop-up dinners typically feature a menu created for only one evening, which gives chefs the opportunity to be adventurous. Reservations are limited to a small group, creating a more intimate experience between chef and guests. Pop-ups are sometimes referred to as “underground supper clubs” because they are often held in abandoned buildings or other secret locations that aren’t announced until right before the dinner starts. 

Conley’s studio lends itself to the intimacy of a pop-up style dining experience. From where I am seated, I can see Conley sprinkle walnuts onto twenty-one bowls of homemade orecchiette pasta with an elegant flick of her wrist. Later, I catch her smiling as she ladles her Italian version of salsa verde onto porchetta-spiced lamb.

The dozen or so tables that usually function as work stations for Conley’s eager students have been rearranged into one long table with seating for 21 guests. 

“It doesn’t usually look like this at all,” says Conley. “Depending on how many people are in a class, each table has individual burners, sauté pans, bowls, et cetera. The room looks more like a stadium, with the tables lined up so that people can watch as I guide them and so they can see each other.” 

Conley’s students are usually the ones cooking.

“Overall, I just guide them … and rarely get to cook. So this is my opportunity. I don’t have a restaurant, so the pop-up is a pleasure for me.”

As she reverses her roles, one can’t help but think about the English professor who finally writes her book, or the botanist who ends up on a space shuttle. She gets to flex her culinary muscles while also creating a teaching moment for her students, many of whom are guests. As each dish is served, it’s like she’s saying “here is how to have fun while cooking a multi-course dinner for a couple dozen of your closest friends.” 

“I want people to enjoy cooking in the kitchen. I want them to try new things,” Conley says. “They shouldn’t be afraid of their own kitchen.”

Conley teaches her students more than how to properly sear a flank steak or how to whip up a paella. This isn’t a textbook class. In fact, she doesn’t even use recipes with her students.

“I will have a guide for myself but I never give students recipes. If you are tied to a recipe, you lose the joy,” she says. “All you’re worried about is do I have enough of this, am I chopping this right. You don’t just cook. So what I make people do in my class is just cook.”

In this way, she builds their confidence and the ability to cook without a net, to be more instinctual home chefs. 

“What I want people to do is cook more at home. They need to just be free and cook in their own kitchen because you can cook from your heart, add things to your repertoire,” she says. “It’s very therapeutic.” 

With the therapeutic element in mind, it’s not completely surprising that Candace Conley is not “Chef” Conley; she is Dr. Candace Conley, with a PhD in clinical psychology. She practiced for over ten years before making the move to food.

“I loved being a doctor, but it didn’t really charge my batteries,” says Conley.

What did charge Conley up was cooking, which was something she grew up doing. And though she did not attend culinary school, she had a very significant cooking instructor.

“My mom was an amazing cook. One of those intuitive, natural cooks. She didn’t know what you called it; she could just do it. She wasn’t afraid of anything,” she says. “I learned what I learned from her, from watching and osmosis.”

What she learned from her mother is imbued into her personal style and cooking philosophy. Her cooking studio is neither pretentious nor formal. Instead, it’s empowering—there are no mistakes, only learning opportunities. 

As twenty strangers clink glasses before each course, I am learning to let go of what I thought a pop-up wine dinner should be. There is no “recipe” to follow tonight. So, I relax. I eat beautiful food, experience new wines and make new friends. I become part of this ephemeral evening, knowing there will never be a night exactly like it again. I savor this realization, as a lovely pinot noir fills my glass and a chocolate hazelnut semifreddo transports me to the Piemonte region of Italy. 

Conley offers hands-on classes about some great subjects, like creating the perfect brunch or how to prepare a “Havana nights” inspired dinner in your own kitchen. A full calendar of her upcoming classes can be found on her website at thegirlcancook.com along with information about future upcoming pop-up dinners.

For more from Angela, read her article on Take 2 Cafe.