Photography by Lauren Allen.
No kitchen would hire a young David Anthony Temple. It was the late ‘90s, the teenage Temple was bussing down tables and working the front-of-house at restaurants in Louisiana. He garnered a reputation in the local culinary scene for his personality, knowing the regulars and recognizing food writers. But his eyes were always on the kitchen. If the restaurants wouldn’t hire him, he would have to figure it out himself.
“It was all ego when I was a kid,” Temple says. “You try to prove yourself when you’re not even proven to yourself.”
Nearly a decade later, Temple was living in Hawaii. He spent his days surfing and his nights learning to cook authentic Hawaiian cuisine.
In 2009, Temple was confident in his skills, but wasn’t experienced enough to jump into a high-end kitchen. He had to come at it sideways.
That December, Temple had an idea. An “underground dinner,” where you wouldn’t know what would be on your plate, where you’d be eating it, or who you’d be eating it with. It would be small, private and intimate. Just fleshed out enough for people to trust Temple blindly, but still edgy enough for that trust to feel like an adventure.
When the idea came to him, he was working at iconic Dallas chef Tom Spicer’s Spiceman 1410 storefront for cooking supplies. Knowing that the clientele for that business would appreciate his idea, Temple decided to start spreading the word there, printing out a small information sheet that outlined his concept.
“I passed out the paper to people that walked in,” Temple says. “It sold out, I could only seat 12 but I served 18 with some people standing and eating.”
The first underground dinner took place at Temple’s Little Forest Hills house on December 6, 2009, featuring an eclectic eight course dinner presentation for his guests.
It began with a BBQ duck tostada followed by a sashimi of flounder, each mixing elements of Mexican and Asian cuisine with traditional fine dining aesthetics. Temple then flexed his Cajun muscles with a chicken and sausage gumbo, before serving a tomato salad, seared fish and truffles, an 18 hour braised short rib, blackened sea scallops and wild huckleberry ice cream for dessert.
The price? $45.
“That was the greatest deal ever,” Temple says with a laugh.
The dinner was a hit, buoying Temple to kitchen work at high-end Dallas establishments, Charlie Palmer’s Steakhouse and Aurora.
He continued to host the underground dinners, both from his house and after hours at local cafes. Now, his process, name and price have refined: ‘Chef DAT’ has a get-in price at $165.
“It used to be; introduce a dish, tell a dumb story and go back,” Temple says. “Now I’m cooking right in front of people. They’re in my kitchen, in my house. I’m talking to them while they’re watching me do everything.”
This year, Chef DAT’s underground dinners turn 15. He’s planning a celebration for it this fall, complete with multiple days of dining and surprise entertainment in-between. The mood will remain the same, but with a different outlook behind the counter.
“I don’t care any more about the finesse or the art of it,” Temple says. “Now it’s all about simple and delicious.”
