grandparents and great-grandmothers. When aunts, uncles, and cousins joined in holiday and birthday celebrations it was a loud and lively crowd numbering upwards of 25. I am pleased to say that newer generations of my family continue this tradition of homecoming, for special events and just because. I ate cheese and crackers under the shade tree, waving at passing cars, with my Pawpaw. I sat next to my Grandmommie in church each Sunday. I went down to my Granny’s when it rained so I could fall asleep listing to the raindrops hitting the metal roof of her trailer. It was very much like growing up in Mayberry. My young life was a rarity and a treasure I will always be grateful for. My love of small-town southern life never left me.

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I was the firstborn to my parents. At birth, I became the 5th living generation on my father’s side. My sister, Susan, was born three years later. My Mom and Dad were still in school, Dad worked full-time and Mom part-time, and we were living in Nashville, TN. We rarely ate out, and when we did it was on a budget. Many Sunday afternoons we would go to the local surplus warehouse to take advantage of their 10-cent hotdogs and nickel cokes, we would stay for what seemed like hours so we could fill up enough so we would not need dinner. For a real splurge we would go to The Bar-B-Cutie, the waitresses wore cowgirl shirts and vests with fringe along with pistols in their holsters.

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One of my hardest childhood dilemmas was ice cream or miniature golf. For an occasional treat, we could do one or the other, but the family budget would not allow both, and as much as I longed for a chocolate-dipped cone, plain vanilla had to suffice. Mom and dad always went all out to throw us the best Halloween party in the neighborhood, inviting all our school friends. The entire basement would be filled with balloons, streams, and cornstalks. Birthdays most often meant a weenie roast and birthday cake with kids from the neighborhood. Another birthday tradition was going out to Jerry’s restaurant, they presented the birthday boy or girl with a small single-layer 6-inch white cake. I still can taste those small cakes. 

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My young parents were not well off but managed to provide me, and my younger sister and brother, with a riches of experiences. They prioritized the arts and travel. As such we were always on the go, a real vagabond family searching out a new museum, play, or city to get lost in. I marvel at how they pulled this off with the financial struggle showing. This love of travel and adventure has taken me to many places in the U.S. and around the world. My love for trying new foods, and learning their history and preparation is a natural extension of my travels.

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Each Christmas my dad would host a party for his coworkers. I remember him taking everything out of the kitchen pantry/closet, lining it with wrapping paper, and stringing up twinkle lights to turn it into a bar for the evening. Once the guests arrived, my sister and I would introduce ourselves, make ourselves a plate of party food, and go off to one of our bedrooms to have our own pretend party.

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In the late 60s and early ’70s, a tropical tiki craze swept the country, and our home was no exception. On occasion, my parents would have a couple over for dinner, often with this new tiki theme. Mom would set the table with woven banana leaf placemats and tropical print napkins, and greet the guests wearing her floral print muumuu dress. Dinner would begin with a salad made with a base of iceberg lettuce leaves, a ring of canned pineapple, a dollop of mayonnaise, and grated cheddar cheese. I can remember her keeping her eyes on those placemats and napkins until she has saved enough S&H Green Stamps to redeem for them. These early experiences most likely helped develop my knack for simple fun, budget-friendly special touches, and presentation details.

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When I was nine my younger brother, David, was born and we moved back to my parent’s hometown, Spring City, Tennessee. How wonderful it was to now be living in the same town as both sets of grandparents, both great-grandmothers, and several aunts and uncles. Seems like there was always a family birthday or holiday gathering going to enjoy. Like all our relatives we had a vegetable garden. Most of our food was fresh from the ground in the summer and fall or in the winter from the canning and freezing that had been done while things were plentiful. Of all the great things that could be said about my mom, her ability to cook well was not one of them. She did excel in her broccoli casserole, seven-layer salad, and pink fluff… a cherry, pineapple, cool whip, and sweetened condensed milk concoction, and would be counted on to bring them to every get-together. 

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Dad began taking over more of the cooking duties and was an adventurous cook, often trying out new recipes. While we enjoyed this, sometimes his desire to get it exactly right became too much. For six Sundays in a row, we had chicken cacciatore. Having a father that cooked without excuse may have been a part of me not placing gender considerations on who could or should cook. For work he often had to travel to New York City, we always looked forward to his return, knowing he would bring a suitcase full of bagels and a couple of Jerry’s cheesecakes.

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The first of several business trips where he took me along really made an impact on me. We went to see The Magic Show on Broadway followed by the Rockettes and the movie Robin and Marian at Radio City Music Hall. Afterward, we went to a supper club. I had never eaten so late, or in such a dark place. Most of the light came from those familiar red textured glass, teardrop-shaped, candle holders. I got to order a large steak (we never had steak at home) and it came with a baked potato AND onion rings on top. It was also the first time eating my all-time favorite hog dog, a Nathan’s famous, as well as my first Gyro, learning that it is pronounced yer-ro. Enjoying authentic regional food became an important part of all our family trips.

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At 14 I started my first job, cooking and waiting tables at the newly opened SteakOut. It had a limited menu, mostly steaks at night and meat and threes at lunch. Not much about cooking was learned, but I did become an expert at knowing exactly when to pull a steak off the grill for the desired doneness. I would alternate between cooking and waiting shifts. I was the first and only waiter in the town. The waitresses wore black skirts and red blouses, so I went searching and found a red and black plaid vest to pair with black slacks and a white shirt. I kept a cigarette lighter in the vest pocket and was always on the lookout for a customer to pull out a cigarette so I could rush over and light it. I was shocked to get a $25 tip on a $10 bill, then a bit frightened when I learn it came from a leader of the local cigarette jukebox mafia. At my first job, I learned how to cook a great steak and that little extra touches to service make a big difference.

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By this point, Mom was working on her Doctoral degree in education and was working full-time. Dad had gone out on his own and started his clothing manufacturing plant, Landreth Mfg., which made clothing for major department stores and professional sporting organizations. We had moved into the upper middle class. It was at this time Dad purchased a minor-league baseball team, The Chattanooga Lookouts. Here I spent summers working in the concession stand, my sister working as an usher, and my brother as bat boy and getting chasing foul balls from the stadium roof. Nachos remain a common favorite food for all three of us kids.

 

After high school graduation, I work during the summer at Opryland U.S.A., a Nashville, Tennessee amusement park. At first, I was assigned to sell plastic fruit-shaped containers filled with juice from a rolling cart. Before going to the wardrobe department I asked to see the food and beverage manager of the park and expressed my desire to have a position where I could learn more about the food, beverage, and hospitality business. I was given a transfer to The Gaslight Beef Room, as a waiter. It was a nice steakhouse inside an amusement park. One requirement of the wait staff was that we were not allowed to write down a table’s order. We had to memorize it table side. The Beef Room has a show kitchen featuring a large wood grill in the middle of the dining room. Opposing the grill was a lavish salad bar. Over the summer I learned how to deal with customers who had gotten too much sun, the importance of intently listening to the customer, and the performance aspect of cooking.

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In college, I was hired as assistant manager for the Murfreesboro, Tennessee Deli Junction. Within a year I was promoted to chain supervisor. I would rotate between our 5 locations working to help them improve wherever needed. There I learn about quality control, proper food handling, and event promotion.

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After college, I moved to Spartanburg, South Carolina to work at The Carolina County Club. I was the assistant banquet manager at one of the largest county clubs in America. Service was of the highest caliber, food rolled into the dining room on carts, under glass domes, while wearing white gloves. I booked parties of all descriptions from a small lady’s luncheon to a wedding reception for 1,500 guests. On my days off I would often come in to observe the chef, a graduate of The Culinary Institute of America. At The Carolina Country Club, I learn the art of fusing formal dining standards with southern charm and a bit about the workings of a professional kitchen.

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After a few years, I returned to eastern Tennessee where I was most fortunate to be hired at the newly opened Perry’s Seafood, in Chattanooga’s trendy warehouse row. Having heard great reviews, I felt this would be a great place for me to learn more about upscale fine dining cooking. I gained an interview with the owners, Perry and Barbara Lord, and was successful in convincing them that my lack of cooking experience was less important to him than my work ethic and desire to learn.

 

I would work primarily preparing and plating appetizers and salads from the restaurant’s show kitchen. One day, out of the blue, the executive chef went missing in action. The owner asked me if I could keep the kitchen going until his daughter, Lee Towery, a recent graduate of the Culinary Institute of America, could move back to take over. In the short time that I had been at Perry’s, I had learned a good deal about plating and presentation, but the chef had closely guarded his recipes for all the sauces, soups, dressings, etc. I would not be able to reproduce his menu. The owner asked if given three days could I put together a lunch and dinner menu and be ready to reopen. I said yes and we successfully reopened three days later. 

 

Very shortly thereafter the Lee arrived, and we became great friends. She had the highest expectations, an eye and palette for creativity, a great understanding of the business side of a restaurant, and a willingness to teach me. To this day one of my greatest joys is to take a whole fish and fabricate it down to individual portions of exact weight without leaving any flesh to be wasted on the skin or bones. We would often provide catering for large-scale civic or arts events. During my time at Perry’s another graduate of The Culinary Institute of America, Jimmy Richard joined the staff. Under Lee and Jimmy, I learned a great deal… consistency in product, creativity in presentation, menu planning, food costs, and how fun it can be in the kitchen. From Perry and Barbara Lord, I learned a great deal about the business side of food service.

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The owners of Perry’s began looking for investors and talent to open a restaurant in Florida. I had never been to Fort Walton Beach, Florida, but wanted to get in on the ground floor of this new endeavor. I packed my stuff, and moved, living for the first few weeks on a small sailboat that Jimmy had just purchased. The restaurant would be Coco’s. It had a great waterfront location overlooking the sound, and a lovely two floor design. The bar and deck on the lower level had lots of ceramic tile and carved wood, the upstairs dining room was light and airy with wall-to-wall windows, white wicker chairs, yellow and blue linens, and tropical artwork. I primarily oversaw the front of the house. We soon developed a very loyal clientele, some eating there three or four times a week. Well, as the saying goes, “you learn more from your failures than you do from your successes.” This proved true. We had misjudged the local market. In the late 80s, it was still a battered dipped and fried, in a basket, with hushpuppies and slaw, time in Fort Walton Beach. There was not yet a market for a fine dining, white tablecloth, restaurant. Those belonged 20 miles to the east in Destin. After 18 months we closed the doors. All said I am grateful for the experience.

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In a short time, the tables would be turned as I went to work for one of my servers from Coco’s as he opened a gay bar, Franky Scarlet’s. It was a very fashionable place with huge live flower arrangements to welcome you at the front door, on center stage was a black and white tiled dance floor, beveled glass windows lined the front wall, ferns hung from the ceiling and framed black and white prints from Gone with the Wind completed the décor. And our holiday decorations were legendary. I found that being able to mix a fast drink and lend a sympathetic ear produced particularly good tips. This income allowed me to donate a good deal of my time to OASIS, the local HIV/AIDS nonprofit organization. I also learned that working until four in the morning did not lend itself to much of a personal life. The other bar owner had once been the manager at Destin’s finest restaurant, Flamingo Café. And Jimmy from Coco’s had just been hired as their new executive chef. The plan was to reunite with Jimmy and several of our Coco’s employees who had also migrated there.

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Flamingo Café was tops in Destin and the entire gulf coast area. The center dining room had banquette seating and twenty-foot ceilings that showcased potted palm trees, whose fronds touched the ceiling. The intimate bar was raised and viewed from the dining room behind large arched windows with white molding. The large outdoor deck overlooked the docks and Destin Harbor. I was hired as a server but would fill in for the manager or assistant manager when they needed time off. Flamingo Café was known for its monthly wine diners, where a leading vintner would speak as a six-course meal to pair with his or her wines would be the star. Ferne Braband excelled at creating elaborate three-dimensional menus reflecting the extensive theme and table decor which I would create. At Flamingo Café my skills in event planning and execution were taken to a whole new level.

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After several years at Flamingo Café, I left to focus on a passion of mine, HIV/AIDS, by working for OASIS full-time under Butch McKay, a man I have the highest respect and love for to this day. The financial needs of a small community nonprofit and the reputation I had earned from Coco’s and Flamingo Café were brought together as I donated my time and skills to cater many banquets and fundraisers for OASIS and other leading charities in the area. My twenty-something years of doing so really honed my skills for keeping the costs low while raising the bar for expectations of event menus. 

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When OASIS was absorbed into a larger national organization, I left to work for another organization that I had volunteered with on a limited basis, The Gulf Coast Citizen Diplomacy Council. This organization, in coordination with The U.S. Department of State, hosted international delegations on visits to Pensacola, FL as they explored their area of interest. This could be environmental, the free press, women’s rights, education, etc. What these groups had in common was they came from countries with which we did not have great diplomatic relationships. I would arrange meetings, workshops, site visits, and family stays with local leaders and these young delegates as they engage in hank shake diplomacy. Escorting the delegates around town and spending days with them was a most rewarding experience. In a short time, I learned a great deal about cultural sensitivity from the founder and director, Jean Melancon. COVID came along and put this program on hold for an unknown length of time.

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During this hold, my partner, Brian, and I visited my sister and her husband at the farmhouse they had just moved into in Edgefield, SC. We fell in love with the area and started making plans to relocate to the area, in a week we found the house in Johnston and began the process of moving. I decided to make the move from using my culinary skills to support the non-profits I was associated with to using these talents full-time to pursue my love of cooking and throwing parties to start my own catering business, Creative Catering by Doug Landreth. Hearing the trains go by during the night, seeing lighting bugs in our backyard, waving at passing cars from our porch, and exchanging food with our new neighbors bring me back to that Mayberry feeling. I can not count the times I have said, “I love it here.”

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Creative Catering by Doug Landreth is the culmination of over forty years of experience in the food, beverage, and hospitality arena. I look forward to bringing my knowledge, drive, and commitment to meet all your catering needs.