Fall’s arrival in the Flathead Valley can bring a sigh of relief. Summer’s promise of freedom and relaxation always starts off sweet and nourishing, with the days unfurling their legs and letting the light stretch deep into the night. But eventually, when winter finally loosens its grip and all the damp is wrung out of spring, the pace picks up, and summer turns into a sprint. Vacationers arrive. Tourists flock. Commitments pile up. Camping trips beckon. The threat of work never goes away for very long. And all those friends and family, distant acquaintances, second cousins and long-lost best friends from first grade that have spread out far and wide beyond the Flathead suddenly find the time to make their way to this corner of Montana.
Raised in Whitefish, Earl Reynolds is no stranger to this cycle and its singular blend of joy and exhaustion. As a chef, he’s also intimately familiar with how the Flathead summer presents itself to the restaurant business, where the feverish pace of peak season can leave some dining establishments at summer’s end with the feeling of just barely hanging on.
But as he reflects on the past year amid the waning days of August, a time when everyone’s slowing down, or dreaming of slowing down, the Whitefish chef isn’t exactly taking a breather. The combination of fatherhood, a new job, and a brush with celebrity have made for a big year for Reynolds, and he’s determined to keep the momentum going, taking it one meticulously crafted dish at a time.
The timeline goes something like this: Last September, his daughter, Matilda Mae, was born. In the ensuing months, Reynolds wasted little time showing her the finer points of eating garlic scapes in the backyard and hauling Radio Flyer wagonloads of Flathead cherries from local farmer’s markets back to the kitchen.
Then, in December 2023, he took over as the executive chef at the fine dining restaurant Herb & Omni in Whitefish, marking the beginning of an extensive process in which he rewrote the menu, and, in doing so, imagined the restaurant’s present, and its future, through his own eyes. For two months, Reynolds says he kept the original menu in place, watching and assessing to better understand his team and the work they were doing, before implementing his own vision step-by-step.
In the meantime, TV producers over at the Food Network were getting ready to show the world what Reynolds had been holding close and keeping quiet for well over a year since filming wrapped up on a certain New York set.
In late June, Reynolds appeared on television sets, tablets and other screens across America. Galloping out through the stage smoke on what he said was an invisible horse named Sinbad, Reynolds defeated the legendary chef Bobby Flay before a live audience in something akin to culinary mortal combat, but with jokes.
The local chef’s appearance on the TV show, “Beat Bobby Flay,” started off with a head-to-head against Jim Armstrong, the executive chef of Krupa Grocery in Brooklyn, to see who would take on Flay in the final. The two chefs were tasked with using wonton wrappers to craft a dish in 20 minutes. As Armstrong lamented during a studio interview afterward, he was reaching for the ground pork when Reynolds swiped it right out from under him, forcing him to make do with a less traditional beef filling.
When the dust had settled, Reynolds won over the judges with a variation of shumai, a Chinese steamed dumpling with a distinct open top. Wagging his wedding ring in front of the camera, Reynolds explained to viewers that shumai is what he cooked on the first date with his wife, Spotted Bear Spirits owner Lauren Oscilowski.
“It must have worked,” he said with a smile.
In this case, Reynolds put ground pork, prawns, kimchi, egg and corn starch into a food processor to create the filling, which he used to generously fill his wonton wrappers. At the same time his shumai was coming together in a bamboo steamer basket, Reynolds created a ginger broth by simmering prawn shells, butter, shrimp stock, ginger, garlic and shallots. For the final flourish, Reynolds sliced up some of the leftover wonton wrappers into thin strips and then deep fried them. Putting it all together, he ladled the broth into bowls, settled the shumai on top, and then showered them with watercress, cilantro, and the fried wonton strips.
Ahead of the final round against the show’s namesake chef, Reynolds found himself face-to-face with Flay, separated by a few inches, like boxers after a weigh-in. Playing to the show’s sense of humor, Reynolds yawned in Flay’s face, and, laughing a little, declared that he had an iron deficiency and that the doctor had told him he needed to eat Iron Chefs — a jesting nod to Flay’s past on the iconic cooking show. Flay couldn’t help but laugh, and then the competition was on.
In “Beat Bobby Flay,” the challenger gets to pick the dish for the final showdown. Reynolds had planned for this moment for months, speculating on Flay’s potential culinary blind spots, hiding ingredients around his house in the Flathead, memorizing flash cards, firing up his grill in the dead of winter, and practicing again, and again. Without hesitation, he declared the dish to be okonomiyaki, a versatile, savory Japanese cabbage pancake, the name of which translates roughly to, “as you like it.” Flay had eaten it before, but he had never made it.
For his winning okonomiyaki, Reynolds filled the pancake with tempura-fried soft-shell crab and morel mushrooms, and then topped it off with a glistening grid of scratch-made Japanese barbecue sauce and Kewpie mayonnaise, before covering it with crab flakes, Japanese basil, green onion and bonito flakes.
Prior to the submission of the dishes for a final decision, one of the judges wondered aloud if Reynolds had made a misstep picking a recipe with such a wide range of acceptable variations. But Flay, even before the judges had rendered their final decision, credited the strategic choice of his opponent.
“No matter what dish you’re making,” Flay said. “The tenth time is going to be better than the second time.”
As they scrambled to finish their dishes, Reynolds shouted to Flay across the set, asking how he was doing. The veteran chef was blunt, then more philosophical. “No idea,” he said, pausing.
“It’s one of those things, you know; you’re walking down the road, you’ve never been there before, but you know you’re going to get there, but you don’t know what you’re going to get when you do.”
That offhand remark, almost like some sort of kitchen koan, has a resonance in the context of Reynold’s last big moment in the spotlight before he beat Bobby Flay. It wasn’t the Whitefish Mountain Resort’s pond skim — he’s a regular competitor and a top contender, and this year snowboard surfed his way across the water dressed like the villain Shredder from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles — but, rather, his January 2023 selection as a semifinalist for the James Beard Foundation Awards for best chef in the Mountain Region, which recognized his work as the executive chef at Stonehill Kitchen and Bar in Bigfork.
But as Reynolds told Morgan Delaney last summer on his podcast, “Hello Whitefish,” an impasse over contract negotiations at Stonehill led to the abrupt closure of the restaurant and, as a result, triggered the withdrawal of Reynolds from the running for a James Beard award, as per the rules of the competition. Speaking more recently, it’s clear that Reynolds hasn’t forgotten about the James Beard awards, nor is he afraid to say he has his sights set on knocking at the door until he wins one.
A large part of that means continuing to push the envelope in his kitchen as far as it can reasonably go. It’s a balancing act between knowing the skills and capabilities of his team as they are now, and guessing what they can handle next. Rolling over the summer menu isn’t an option in the world that Reynolds is seeking to compete in, and so, as fall descends over the valley and the days get shorter, the chef is preparing to flip up to 80% of Herb & Omni’s current menu.
Food is never far from his mind, Reynolds says, and he’s often thinking at least one season ahead. Recipes, partly formed but insisting on their own potential, bounce around his head until he’s got no choice but to put them on paper. At home, at least seven leatherbound notebooks are filled with recipes that he’s written over the course of his career, including dishes that combine multiple recipes. A onetime aspiring painter, some of Reynolds’ recipe pages are accompanied with color illustrations of how the dish should look on the plate, or doodles that he couldn’t resist, like a caraflex cabbage flexing a pair of muscled make-believe arms.
It’s not uncommon for chefs to be influenced and inspired by the seasonality of certain ingredients, and Reynolds said that’s on his mind. He’s also looking to match some of the desires and sensibilities that come with the colder, darker months in this corner of Montana, with a bend toward comfort that doesn’t lose a sense of excitement.
“I like to shift into dishes that are more cozy. Braised meats, big, hearty, warming flavors, and things that kind of just make you feel warm inside,” Reynolds said. “I think it’s important to not only make the shift between summertime ingredients to fall and winter time, but to also look to harness that energy that fall brings.”
In describing his process, Reynolds says he starts jotting down primary ingredients, then secondary ingredients that he likens to the supporting cast. Then come lists of cooking techniques and textures, with the final decisions circled before he advances to sketching the dishes, sometimes coloring them in with crayons in a colorful and messy process. When he feels like the recipe is written, he then composes it as it would appear on the menu. But there’s almost always a moment between the time the recipe is written, and the time the menu is finalized, when the idea matures, and an ingredient or technique that can truly make the dish complete emerges in a moment of clarity.
Younger chefs, Reynolds says, sometimes like to throw all their techniques and tricks into a single dish. It can have a noisy, unfocused effect on a dish, and so Reynolds tries to approach his own with focus and clarity, often honing in on three to four primary ingredients or flavor profiles. From there, he tries to apply different cooking techniques to the primary components, in order to give them different flavors, textures, mouth feel and color.
Overlaid across all of that is Reynolds’ desire to communicate something delightful on the plate. Sam Bassett, the executive chef and co-owner at Forage Catering in Kalispell, says he jokingly likes to refer to Reynolds as “The Earl of Whimsy” for the lighthearted flair that he brings to cooking.
“It’s not just beautiful food, it’s intelligent and extremely delicious. His style, I would say reflects his personality,” Bassett said. “It’s fun, it’s playful, and, you know, very thoughtful. He puts a lot of intention and thought into his dishes.”
All of those traits are present in Herb & Omni’s fried enoki mushroom, which Reynolds says is a vegan play on surf and turf. The golden enoki’s signature tendrils are dipped in tempura batter and fried together in one large piece. The base of the mushroom is bent slightly, creating a shelf-like visual. When the dish starts coming together, Reynolds says that he can’t help but hear “The Little Mermaid” soundtrack playing in his head. And when the dish is complete, diner’s just might hear it, too.
As morels, dark blue cauliflower and pickled Fresno chiles are tucked around the fried enoki, it starts to resemble a coral shelf. Then the chef takes a pressurized canister and fills the bowl’s blank space with a kombu broth cauliflower foam. A sifter is then used to dust the top of the white foam with leek ash, and it’s as if a savory ocean floor has formed. Spots of brightness appear on the mushroom reef as Reynolds drops small globes of ponzu gel atop it, before garnishing it all with dark bits of savory, fried red dulse seaweed and micro shiso, a bright green form of the mint-like Japanese herb.
“I wanted to create a dish that was vegan and packed with umami flavor and texture, and just to kind of have a small adventure as you explore different parts of the dish with different sauces and different garnishes, and have every bite that is going to be a little bit different,” Reynold said. “There’s no monotony in eating that dish.”
Another dish that is particularly important to Reynolds is the foie gras pie. Foie gras, or fattened duck liver, is an ingredient that Reynolds learned how to set with a pie-like consistency from Austin Johnson, an old Alaskan fishing friend of Reynolds’ who is the executive chef at the Michelin-starred New York restaurant One White Street.
As it’s served at Herb & Omni, the foie gras is part of a plate that also includes a sweet parsnip puree, and a toasted slice of house-made brioche. The square slice of chilled foie gras is covered in a layer of seasoned gel made with lapsang souchong, a variety of smoked Chinese black tea. Resting atop the light amber gel are pitted and sliced Flathead cherries, house-made graham cracker pieces, and hearts on fire sorrel leaves. The three components are neatly delineated and separated by empty space on the plate, almost like clues to a riddle. Diners sometimes ask if there’s a right way to eat the dish, but Reynolds says any approach is acceptable.
“I came in and had that dish the other night, and I hardly touched the brioche. I was just shoveling the foie and the graham crackers into my mouth like Garfield,” he said.
Elsewhere on the menu, diners can find a dish created by Shane VanVeldhuizen, the restaurant’s executive sous chef, who has been at Herb & Omni from its inception in 2023.
VanVeldhuizen is responsible for the seared pheasant breast served with morel mushrooms and maque choux, which is a mixture of corn, peppers, onions, and cream seasoned with sassafras, cayenne and white pepper. Like Reynolds’ dishes, VanVeldhuizen is also trying to create a story with what he puts on the plate.
In this case, it’s a story of heritage. Originally from South Dakota, VanVeldhuizen said that pheasant is not only the state bird of his home state, but South Dakota’s popularity as a place to hunt pheasant makes it a bird that’s more commonly eaten than most other places. It’s a nod to his father. The maque choux, he said, is a nod to his mother, who is Indigenous. Maque choux is a sort of fusion dish with Cajun and Indigenous roots. The first chef he worked under in South Dakota was from New Orleans, and VanVeldhuizen said that he’s also spent “a good amount of time” in New Orleans.
The dish is garnished with pickled ramps, a kind of wild green onion which VanVeldhuizen said are often associated with the East Coast but also grow across South Dakota. The pickled ramps add a bit of acidity to help counterbalance the savory, creamy flavors of the maque choux swirled warmly at the center of the plate. VanVeldhuizen also incorporates corn shoots as a garnish, to echo the corn in the maque choux, and peppery nasturtium to add floral notes. An elderberry jus is poured around the dish, which in VanVeldhuizen’s mind brings everything back to the northwest, and Montana.
VanVeldhuizen said that while Reynolds has a distinct vision for the food at Herb & Omni, he also wanted his executive sous chef to be represented on the menu.
“I mean truthfully, in my opinion — and this is just honest and not trying to puff him up or anything — but he is the best chef I’ve worked for, and that has so much to do with his talent, but it also has so much to do with his graciousness, his genuine caring for people in our kitchen,” VanVeldhuizen said. “And being a very people-first kitchen and making sure that everybody’s taken care of, and those who want to grow have every opportunity to do so.”
Reynolds expects the pheasant breast maque choux to hold over into the next season, along with a limited number of other menu items, like the foie gras and fried enoki. Another dish that won’t be lost in the transition is spruce tip ice cream with citrus sponge cake, huckleberries, lemon balm and pine nut brittle. It’s expected to be the final course in a new five-course tasting menu that Reynolds is rolling out in November. His goal with the menu is to showcase local ingredients and different cooking techniques to create a special experience for people. There will be drink pairings with the tasting menu, and Reynolds said he’s tossing the idea around of mixing in sake, cocktails and other beverages instead of sticking exclusively to wine.
“Personally, when I go out to eat, I would rather not make any decisions,” Reynolds said. “I think it’s really, really nice to be able to go and trust the chef and just order the tasting menu and buckle up and enjoy the ride. And we are going to offer a vegan tasting menu, alongside our omnivore tasting menu, and the dishes will mirror each other.”
As for the spruce tip ice cream, Reynolds said it’s a dish that offers an avenue backward — or forward — to another season.
“The spruce tip ice cream is a playful way for me to capture an element of springtime that I really love. There’s spruce trees everywhere, and they all shoot out these really beautiful tips in springtime,” he said.
Those tips are harvested and then infused with creme anglaise, which is strained to create ice cream. Combined with the dish’s other elements, like the huckleberries, the bright smell of spruce transports Reynolds to a place where he’s above the valley floor, breathing the cool mountain air.
One new dish that Reynolds has already plucked from his notebook and employed in the kitchen is a braised bison short rib, served with a butter poached and seared caraflex cabbage, chanterelles, pickled mustard seeds and roasted onions over a smooth carrot puree, garnished with celery leaf, and laced over the top with red wine jus.
The short rib gets seasoned in a blend of spices, like mustard and red chili flake, which Reynolds says hit some of the nostalgic notes that he gets from one of his comfort foods, corned beef and cabbage. The different iterations of carrot, celery and onion, are a nod to the classic French flavor base called a mirepoix, which is typically made by dicing those three vegetables.
Though Reynolds doesn’t mention it, there’s an uncanny resemblance between the rounded form of the short rib balanced on the plate, and the distinct profile of a bison on the horizon. The caraflex cabbage starts to look like a ridgeline, and suddenly the mushrooms tucked around are found and foraged, rather than served. Spend enough time in Reynolds’ culinary world, and your imagination might just start to beam images onto the plate.
Whether or not these dishes catch the attention of the James Beard Awards Committee this year, or five years from now, Reynolds says he’s going to keep chasing that goal. Herb & Omni’s owner, Jamie Goguen, has been onboard with his vision from the start, and Reynolds said the foundation for that kind of success involves excellence and consistency day after day, a mindfulness about sustainability, and a taste for cooking seasonally.
“We have momentum. We have buzz. And I think James Beard is really as far as I can see right now,” Reynolds said. “After that, who knows? We’re just gonna keep doing our thing.”