FOOD & DRINK

Pie car on circus train brings everyone together

Food on the road is a production in itself

By Addie Broyles
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Saturday, August 23, 2008

In a reserved parking lot outside the Erwin Center on Thursday night, a food trailer stands alert, its two walk-up windows open and buzzing with people placing orders and getting food. A trainer walks an elephant behind the truck. Pairs of miniature ponies and goats follow a little while later. A short, tall-haired guy with a big smile charges through. It's Bello Nock, the "daredevil clown," out of costume (except for the orange hair) and en route to prepare for the night's show.

He pauses for a moment to talk about one of his favorite foods: shrimp. "I heard somewhere that flamingos are pink because they eat little shrimp all day," Nock says. "I thought I could keep my color from going gray if I ate shrimp every day."

The elephants? The elephants are one act that Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus food and beverage director Glenn Hunter doesn't have to feed.

But feeding the 300-person circus staff is his job. He's the man behind the so-called pie car — and the trailerlike pie car junior where everyone was congregating Thursday — on the circus' mile-long train that travels nearly every day of the year to cities across the country.

Nock, who is a seventh-generation circus performer and this year's top-billed star, is the only staffer who gets special personal catering, and he sticks to an Atkins-like high-protein, low-carb diet, which helps him meet the demands of being a full-time daredevil.

Omar Dudley, a 19-year-old acrobat, says the car's steak is moist and tender. He grew up on the road, touring with the circus since he was 15, eating meals from the pie cars. "I eat whatever I want 'cause I flip it off," Dudley says.

The circus kicked off its Austin run Thursday and will wrap on Sunday. There are still tickets for the five remaining shows today and Sunday and they can be bought online at www.uterwincenter.com/events.

The performers, trainers and crew have to pay for their meals in the pie car, but the food is cheap and the pie car is almost always open.

Hunter cut his teeth on feeding a crowd when working for the Army and later at Disney World in Florida. He doesn't do much cooking these days; an accident two years ago left him with diminished use of his dominant left hand. So he's in charge of planning the meals and food buys — 80 pounds of ground beef, 36 pounds of butter, 120 pounds of rice, 60 dozen eggs — enough to last through a tour stop. His crew of five work out the details of the menu, which changes with the landscape. In New Orleans, they eat crawfish; in Philadelphia, it's cheesesteak. "If you have a decent kitchen and good staffing, the food is the easy part," Hunter says. "The most difficult part of my job is working with different purveyors in every town." There are always starch, protein and vegetable combos on the menu, and Hunter has to train his cooks to make food bland. It's a cultural thing.

"We have such a diverse, ethnic group," says circus General Manager Jonathon Griggs, who sat on a picnic table outside the Erwin Center on Thursday night to eat Chicken Rustica. "I'm quality control," he jokes with Hunter.

Griggs, who started as a clown and worked his way up, says the pie car — which circus lore says got its name because it was where the clowns used to make their cream pies before a show — is essential to the circus operation. "I look at the pie car as a hub," Griggs says. "It's a place where everybody hangs out." Circus workers also play cards, watch movies on two flat-screen TVs or play on the computer in the pie car when traveling between towns.

"We're living and working together 24/7," Griggs says. "It's a logistical ... " he stops to find the right word. "challenge."

The pie car, which has a kitchen and seats 40-50 people, is where associate production manager Hope Villanueva hangs out. Even though most of what she eats she cooks in her train car kitchen, she is a relative circus newbie (she's been there about seven months) so she finds the pie car a good place to get to know her fellow circus crew. "It's like in high school, where you met up with friends at Denny's. That's what the pie car is for us," Villanueva says.

The circus packs up Sunday and will be on the road again Monday. They'll get to Moline, Ill., by Wednesday, but in the hours between, Hunter and his crew will be serving late-night egg muffins and afternoon burgers. Everybody loves to get on the train for a few days. "It's forced rest," Griggs says.

"Except the pie car," says Hunter.