Meet Becki Klauss | Chef Owner

We had the good fortune of connecting with Becki Klauss and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Becki, we’d love to hear more about how you thought about starting your own business?
I actually purchased an already successful business that I had been managing for the previous 9 years. But, I chose to be a small business owner because I had a vision for what I knew it could become. I also had a partner who was a businessman, who knew the ins and out of all the things that I had no clue about. We were poised to enter a dynamic balance of being able to implement all of the ambition and energy to grow our business into what it has become. Also, I had a GIANT heart for that particular business, with that particular community. And I was already the face and catalyst of that experience for my customers and staff. It was a simple transition. It just required a financial shift. In addition, we were ready to grow our income. And although it took MANY years to do so, it was part of the plan. And we wanted to create more security in our lives, and our family lives.

Alright, so for those in our community who might not be familiar with your business, can you tell us more?
My name is Becki Klauss. I identify generally as an artist and a teacher. I am also a mother. A gypsy. I give good hugs. I sing. And I really love people.

I am also owner and general manager of The Black Bear, a restaurant, bakery and coffee house at the entrance to Denali National Park, Alaska.

Ok, well, it fronts as a seasonal restaurant in the wilderness. Yet, it is everything from a home for wayward souls, to a catalyst for community, to a way to nurture people through food, and connect people to the sources that sustain us. It has always been a place to brew up revolution, enlightenment and adventure.

Black Bear was started by Beth Barrett in 1997, just near the entrance to Denali National Park, Alaska. I came on the scene in 2002, as a green wanna be gyspy from Fox Lake, Illinois. I was instantly smitten. I found a big part of myself in Denali over the years, as well as a heart family to heal the wounds and make me feel an important part of something. After managing Black Bear for 9 years for the original owner, I bought it, with my partner Adam Stout, and we grew the business to manifest the vision that I had for it in the early years. I am a very hands on general manager and owner. My roles vacillate from all hiring and training, GM and HR duties, to filling shifts as needed in every department: baker, cook, barista, cashier and occasional plumber and camp counselor. Adam remains my silent business partner and I am the face of the business.

Black Bear is unique primarily because it is a local, independent, seasonal business that prioritizes quality, craft and ethics. And it is busy, to say the least, with a line out the door most of the time. We are a fully scratch kitchen, striving to cater to everyone. You can have a vegan, gluten-free experience or indulge in biscuits and gravy better than Grandma’s. Our bakery creates all of our menu breads, as well as a full pastry case with about 1/3 of it being alternative (gluten free, vegan, dairy free, no refined sugar, etc…). We have a simple, brunch forward menu, showcasing as much local, organic produce as we can, as well as a grab and go case. Our coffee has been roasted locally by SteamDot in Anchorage for over a decade, featuring mostly single origin coffees, with stories to connect customers to the growers. We also feature a local Alaskan (often Denali) artist in residence each summer, in our green room gallery.

I have spent my career trying to create a community-building, healthy work environment within the restaurant industry. I am in the business of working with people, on all fronts. It is not simply cooking, baking and making coffee. It’s family dynamics, mental health, past trauma, personal drama, self discovery and lots of adventure. People make the trek to work in Denali to get away from something, or to find themselves. So it is a lot more than just a job. It’s an evolution. I get to be on that ride with people, while still needing them to show up on time, work really hard, contribute their best self and make the magic happen. I develop close relationships with many of my staff. Those relationships are some of my favorite parts of Black Bear. There are a LOT of new humans in my world each summer. We become a family for that pocket of time.

There are ALWAYS many challenges. It is not easy. It actually never gets easier, after 20 years… but I think I get better at it. Change and challenges equal growth. I find gratefulness for that. Every season is different. Sometimes I have 90% new staff. Sometimes I have only a few spots to fill. I have between 18-25 full time people and several part time folks who have Black Bear as their second (or third!) job. It’s a four month season with a lot of turnover. I never start and end the season with the same team. Finding staff who have experience, decent mental health, know how to adult, ground themselves, actually care, and manage stress well in a summer camp environment is difficult to say the least. If anything, I have revamped my hiring strategy. I focus more on the human and less on their work experience these days. I can train people. I just don’t have a lot of time to do it. If you can learn fast and have a good brain, great. I have found difficulty with a lot more experienced, burned out line cooks than an under experienced, trainable, healthy humans who care. It’s about personality, communication, respect, work ethic.

I’ve learned a LOT about people and about myself through my work. My entire adult life has been cultivated in that little log cabin in glitter gulch, the local’s name for the Nenana River canyon that hosts the blip of commerce outside the entrance to Denali National Park. I started working at Black Bear at 19, fresh out of Chicago. And I am still there, over 20 years later.

As a female chef and restaurant owner, I went through a lot of versions of myself to find that balance of power and authenticity. How to be an effective leader, in a very male dominated industry, while still being deeply feeling, compassionate, and genuine. A turning point was to stop emulating the male versions of power that we see, and to tap into the power of the feminine. Women (too often) quietly lead the homes, and society… and take the brunt of the burden. Learning to not be a selfless martyr, how to say no, how to delegate better, how to claim personal time, how to ask for what I need, to be able to show weakness… these are all vital parts of life. I am learning. And doing better. I have been told by former staff that I lead like a mother. (I do have two young sons, so I’ve got some practice.) And I also have learned lots about how to have healthy boundaries, not take things too personally, when to let things go, and how to really read people. Intuition is huge. In the end, it’s a human experience. Mine and everyone around me.

I am so grateful for the people who support me and what I create with my team over the years at Black Bear. The Denali community is the cherry on top of being at the gates of the most stunning national park surrounding the tallest mountains in North America. It’s all pretty damn amazing.

I am also writing a Black Bear cookbook with my dear friend and former Black Bear baker, Sarah Beth Tanner.

If you’re interested in working with me, send me an e-mail: hello@theblackbeardenali.com

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
If you’re fresh to Alaska, you will soon realize that this giant bastian of wilderness is just one big small frontier town. There are hundreds of miles between intertwined communities. It simultaneously leaves you feeling connected and absolutely humbled by beauty and vastness. It’s a good idea to fly in to Anchorage, and rent a car. That leaves a ‘choose your own adventure’ pace to your trip, and allows for all the good stuff to happen: connections, impulse, stories, impromptu adventure and discoveries.

Denali is the name of lots of things in Alaska: the tallest mountain in North America, the state park, the national park, and for these purposes, the area just surrounding the entrance of Denali National Park, where commerce exists. This Denali could be considered an interior Alaska pop up village of sorts. It is not a town, although there are a few hundred people who live there year round, tucked into the pockets of forest off the main highway. Denali is found in the stretch of road that runs along the Nenana River canyon, tucked between Mt. Sugarloaf and Mt. Healy. It’s a gravel patch with a great view, peppered with birch, alder, black spruce, dwarf willow, dozens of wildflowers and edible berries. Just driving on the Parks Hwy, one can usually see moose on a daily basis, just grazing in the bush. You can also catch an occasional glimpse of black bear, grizzly bear, lynx, wolf, and fox. Some favorite and easily accessible wildlife is actually the birds: ravens bigger than your cat, magpies, grey jays, eagles, hawks…

The whole point of Denali is to get off the beaten path. Go find a spot to sit and tap into yourself. Yes, it’s magnificent. It’s a postcard everywhere you look. And it’s easy to get lost in too, that’s the true beauty of it. Take a midnight hike and watch the alpenglow light up the mountains in the night. Feel the marshmallow tundra sink you down to your calves. Clamber up to a peak and catch a glimpse of Denali, in all her frozen majesty, off in the distance. Feel your sheer insignificance, and let that humble your spirit. Take inventory on what really matters.

As far as stuff to do, it’s an adventure land. Get out in it. Go hiking. It’s free. On the flip side you can also catch a unique aerial experience by flightseeing: circumnavigate the highest peaks in North America, land on a glacier, drink the freshest, coldest water on earth. Take pictures of you and a bunch of strangers you’ll show to everyone back home. Go rafting on the class IV rapids of the Nenana River, see the prehistoric rock walls of the canyon and get some silty glacial water in your face. Go ATVing up to the local peaks for 360 views of mountains. Take a natural history bus tour into the park itself to hear all about the flora, fauna and local lore. Saunter over to the cool coffeehouse and connect to people who are foundations of the community. Denali is the least fancy place on earth. It’s dusty and kinda dirty and windy all the time. And it’s absolutely beautiful. It will get you out of your comfort zone, on any level.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
Primarily, my closest heart tribe framily… my close friends have ushered me through life. And words cannot express my love and gratitude to them. But also, I want to acknowledge those who gave me an opportunity: to lead, to cook, to learn the food stories. It all inspired what I have become and what I have created today.

Beth Barrett was the first to give me an opportunity for an Alaskan adventure over two decades ago. She took a chance on a very young woman who wanted desperately to be a part of something. I had no professional experience or training at the time. I am a strong supporter of the school of life. Trial by fire was how I learned how to run a business, and to be a leader. I made a lot of mistakes. And so I learned the hard way a lot of the time. That kind of wisdom cannot be taught. It is in you. She saw in me what I perhaps did not see in myself then. She really wanted me to buy Black Bear. And so we did. And she is still close to me after all these years.

I have also had the incredible freedom to be able to work in many places in my winter travels, and yet still have a constant in my summer work. There are a few real gems that I have worked with who I would like to shout out to as well: John Trumbull, Bob + Lori Breslauer, Ron + Krissi Miller and Ryan Dawson. These leaders and chefs really influenced me. Their experience, passion, openness and wisdom are threads through my own work. The biggest takeway, aside from helping me learn to create good structure in my business, is the connection to the food, to the source.

From 2006-2009 I worked with John Trumbull at Roses on Orcas Island, WA. He and his wife Joni owned this gorgeous little bistro bakery deli in an old fire house, in the San Juan Islands. When I first moved there in 2005, I ventured in and had a French ham sandwich. It was literally France in my mouth. (I am a major Francophile.) I became obsessed, and knew I had to work there. So, I was a server and prep cook there for a few winters. John taught me all about wine, slow food, who Alice Waters was, about real methodical French cooking. He would regale me with stories from the farms where our food came from, all on the island, all friends. I would be in the back, elbows deep in cleaning mussels, and he would share with me how they grew and harvested them. I learned how to take care of old German steel knives, how to properly pick a chicken completely clean and use every part of the animal, from pigs feet to lamb tongue. Basic stuff. But, I never had the opportunity to work in an environment like that before. It was so perfect, clean, functional, classy. The walk-in was a smorgasboard of French cheeses and jambon from Spain, lamb all raised on the island, the most incredible local organic produce. This was a real education in local, seasonal cooking. Every season had a new menu. John had a real affinity for cardoon. And he would always bring in this giant stock of it they harvested from their own garden. I was like – what the heck is cardoon?! The bakery was an absolute dream. It’s literally the best bread I have ever had. John shared stories about being a sommelier in Sonoma County back in the day, and he would break out these INCREDIBLE wines from the 70s and 80s for the Christmas party, to go with a giant leg of lamb. I will never forget this 1982 Sonoma zinfandel he gave me one year for housesitting for them. Blew my mind. I also really enjoyed the family of people I worked with there: Everett, Libby, Erin, Laura, Sarah, Al, Chris, China, Dante… I also got an opportunity there to dive into the Seattle area coffee scene, with Café Vita being the stepping stone. I befriended their trainers and made connections in the city that fostered continuing education and understanding more of the direction I wanted to take with Black Bear. I also was the lead barista on bar at Roses and enjoyed working at a pace, and mentality where I could dive into learning latte art, and training others. I was able to focus on my craft for those winters, and not on running my own business. The smells and sounds of that place were like a baptism into the food world. Everything was specialty, crafted, and the highest quality they could procure. Through working at Roses, I really began to appreciate the tedious, rewarding spell of methodical cooking. Jon and Joni recently sold Roses, unfortunately. It was an icon for that time and place.

I also loved working with Bob + Lori Breslauer at the West Sound Café and Kingfish Inn on Orcas, around the same time I was working at Roses. Island life in the winter was a patchwork of trying to make ends meet. My best friend Cathleen and I worked together with Bob + Lori. They took us in, the little orphans from the Midwest. And it was a wonderful time and place to be. Bob was significant primarily because he brought biscuits into my life. (Black Bear biscuits are one of the cornerstones of our brunch menu now.) I think it was winter of 2007 + 2008. Bob and Lori wanted to close the restaurant for a few months to travel and keep the rooms open for guests. So they asked me to step in as live-in innkeeper for the three bed and breakfast rooms above the restaurant. I lived in room 4, a large suite on the ground floor, with a stunning view of West Sound. And the rooms were above mine. It was a big, beautiful historical building. The prospect was daunting and exciting. I got to create a menu, be server, and cook for our guests every morning. That is where I really learned to be a short order breakfast cook. Each day I would wake before dawn and make the biscuits, just like Bob did. And spin around in circles taking care of everyone. I really enjoyed the bed and breakfast scene. It was a wild job though; the West Sound Café is one of the most haunted places I have ever been. And I lived there. ALONE! I just kept up a bit of a conversation when I was puttering around in the kitchen. I saw forms disappear when I was coming around a corner. And I would hear footsteps pacing above my room on a regular basis… when we had no guests. Oh the adventures! Unfortunately, Bob and Lori sold the restaurant. It’s under new ownership, but you can still go have a meal and a lush bed with an amazing view, and some uninvited guests perhaps.

In the winter of 2012 + 2013, I lived on Kaua’i. Total dream. My husband at the time, Adam, and I needed a wild reset. So, we rented a big old farm house on 3 acres and moved there with two other couples from Denali, as well as our two year-old son, Bear. I had been to a local restaurant called the Hukilau Lanai, on a previous visit to the island because my dear friend Christen worked there. It was a Hawaiian dream. I could not stop thinking about it. I really wanted to be a part of that scene somehow after moving there. It was glorious: there was live Hawaiian music every night, farm to table fine dining straight from eden, on the ocean. And it was the number one restaurant on the island. I emailed my resume to the Hukilau before I moved there. Nothing. I went in, brought my resume. They weren’t hiring. WHAT! How to get in to this Fort Knox of restaurant wizardry? This was the kind of place where there was nearly zero turnover in staff. That speaks volumes. So, I respectfully requested an interview. I used my friend’s name as an in. I finally sat and spoke with one of the several managers. We clicked. But still, no openings. They would keep me in mind. Ok. So, in the mean time I got another fine dining serving job near our house, at The Tavern, on the Princeville Golf Course: a Roy Yamaguchi pilot restaurant. I was biding my time. Maybe a month later, the Hukilau called me. They had a spot open doing their events there. I took it the job. And I kept the other job too. Entering into Krissi and Ron’s world at the Hukilau was a real education in restaurant management. This place was dialed in. Krissi was a little spitfire of a GM. She had a schoolmarm expectation of her staff to be proficient in every aspect of that business. There was a significant amount of education for the servers alone, dedicated to the details of ingredients, sources, garnishes, presentation. There were even follow up quizzes for staff to maintain their knowledge. And there was a structured staff meeting every day before service, to talk through any issues and present and taste specials. I was impressed. This was significant organization, and a clear vision of how to succeed. If you could keep up. This was a sprawling restaurant with reservations booked out three weeks in advance. It was clear that they had a successful business by being intertwined with every aspect of it and working alongside on a daily basis, while also delegating effectively, making connections with all of their staff, and creating a real team. They were a truly great force. And it was a beautiful thing to witness. Ron and Krissi’s love and dedication of the Hukilau came through all of their food. They really cared about people. There were even special buttons on the POS for certain guests’ special dishes, that only were made for them. Ron’s kitchen was the most zen ninja canteen I have been a part of: no music, clear and respectful communication, high volume, and brilliant food. I loved to just watch it. The line cooks would take time to explain things to the servers. It was clockwork. I learned a lot about Hawaiian, Asian and Phillipino cuisine there. The walk-in was filled with giant fish hanging from hooks, floor to ceiling. The bounty of the island poured out of that place: local, fresh, seasonal everything. After a while, I got promoted to being a cocktail server, and then to a server on the main floor. I opened more damn paper umbrellas that winter and tried to save more listless old cocktail orchids than I should have. But that bar was a gem. John had been bartending there for probably 300 years. He was the master of his craft: smooth and dry, like a swarthy martini. He was a man of few words. But if he liked you, you were IN. We made a good team. And the cocktails were a huge feature of the place. Some of my very favorite taste memories were born there: rum and moonshine made on island, fresh coconut water at the bar, and the MOST amazing beautiful fish, coming in fresh. Every night, I got to listen to aunties and uncles play the music of the island, and dance hula, and I got to run around and play the role of a local for that snippet of time. It was one of my very favorite jobs. I was so inspired to integrate more of what I learned there into my own business. The Hukilau is still a thriving business on the east side of Kaua’i. Go there!

The most recent chapter takes place in Texas. This time, a job found me. I was working with a staffing agency, taking private chef jobs and doing events. I had done it for a few years there, around Dallas, and it was an easy gig to pick up and put down when I left for the summer. In October 2016, I signed on for a lead role in a mystery job in Westlake, Texas, about an hour from my home by White Rock Lake, in Lakewood. It was a haul, through downtown and out to the county, but I was intrigued. Circle T Ranch it said. I rolled up to a giant, fancy new barn in the middle of cow pastures and could not find a soul. I called the number of some guy named Ryan, point of contact. And as soon as I got him on the line, I see this beefy, big, smiley guy in full chef whites come walking across the parking lot. He was younger than me, and the boss of this big place. But, he was still kind of figuring things out, it seemed. We were there to set up the kitchen and prep for an event that day. There were pallets and pallets of kitchen wares to be put away, but we needed to get cooking. So, I started delegating, not knowing what the heck I was doing, but trying to read this guy’s mind. And that was just the beginning. After that day, he singled me out, and asked me if I would come back the next day. Just me, no one else, and not through the staffing agency. Well, ok. It was a long drive. But, I was interested in what was going on there. I still didn’t really know what this place was. It turns out, that he needed this organizational queen to set up shop. I will say, it is one of my strengths. I have set up and closed down the Black Bear kitchen so many times, I got it down. So, this guy, Ryan Dawson, he was the chef. He was the executive chef actually, which means a whole lot of computer work, and not a lot of time to… hang all of the beautiful pots and pans, organize the cambros, stock all of the drawers and cabinets and perfectly set up the pantry, which is basically what I like to do for fun. He was also just kind of goofy and easy to be around, and had clearly worked really hard to get to where he was. He had come to Texas from the Ritz Carlton Lake Tahoe, and before that, the French Laundry. I could see that he was kind of genius, with incredible vision, trying to build something, but with no staff yet. Like zero. After asking me to come back for a few days and getting that kitchen set up, and learning my story, he offered me a full-time pastry chef position there. I figured out that it was an events space, for a private family, as well as their company. So, we were going to be cooking some fancy food for lots of people. Got it. I told him that he did not want me to take that position. I was planning to leave in May, to go back to my own restaurant. He said no, he did. And so, I took the job. I ended up stepping into a sous chef position under Ryan, in reality. I was his first #2 at the ranch. We ended up hiring one more full time dish porter, Amelia. She spoke about 5 words in English and I spoke about 5 words in Spanish. So, we figured it out. I grew to adore her. And I think she knew what I was talking about most of the time. Working with Ryan was a whole other level of food. He was an artist. And my job was to read his mind and implement the genius, and then roll with it when he changed his mind again. We had mad respect for each other. And we fit well into this puzzle of our talents. He wrote the menu; I took notes from his ideas and wrote the recipes. I took on the crews, organized and delegated. We created truly beautiful things there. It was an adventure in food. He had full freedom to create, and he listened to my ideas, and sometimes pulled from some of my own recipes I use at Black Bear. I had never been to culinary school, so there were several holes in my food knowledge. He never made me feel inferior because of that. He explained things well, respectfully. There were several times he would rattle off a list of things for the day, and I would just get to it, and sometimes had to google stuff in the bathroom. But it was a true education. He would ask me what I wanted to learn next. Charcuterie! We got a pig. He taught me all about breaking down animals. And we made gobs of sausages. If you’ve never made sausage with someone, that’s one way to break the ice. We had our adventures dry aging tons of wagyu. I learned the foundations of French cuisine. Then, we did chocolate. Once in a while Ryan would get in his creative mode. Nothing else would get done. He was IN IT. This was the case with chocolate balloons. I’m watching this guy blow up two dozen balloons. I check back and he has poured tempered chocolate around the forms to create… chocolate balloons! I knew we were doing a special dinner for 50 that week. I was making mini desserts. His idea was to place this thin chocolate balloon over the tiny dish of my pecan pies or berry tarts, then pour a star pattern of caramel over the top of the balloon, table side, for it to unfold like a flower in front of guests. It was beautiful. One of my very favorite parts of working at the ranch was making staff meals. This was not just an events space, show kitchen. This was also a fully functioning ranch with 3,500 head of award-winning cattle. That means cowboys. I just loved hearing those spurs ring down the hallway as they came in for lunch. I never liked being called m’am before. But they made me blush. “Shore do like having a woman in the kitchen.” Mark, the leader of the pack, had a moustache that stuck out so wide you could see it from behind his head. They were so deeply appreciative, and were often the highlight of my afternoon. I fed them all kinds of healthy stuff that had never graced the plate of a Texas cowboy. But they went back for more. I am grateful to Chef Ryan Dawson to be a part of the fantasy food, the haute cuisine, the country life, and be able to learn so much from him. He’s also a good friend and forever a food ally. The Perot Family, who owned the Circle T Ranch, was a pleasure to work for. It was an adventure of another kind.

I know that was a whole lotta shout-out. But, it’s the stories that connect the hearts. We want to be a part of a story. My hope is that though Black Bear, the connection to that culture will fill the hearts and inspire the minds of those in my flock. And then we become a part of each other.

Website: theblackbeardenali.com

Instagram: theblackbeardenali

Facebook: The Black Bear

Yelp: The Black Bear

Youtube: https://youtu.be/34gfe26TcNE

Other: Denali 360 Podcast: Episode 7 denali360.com

Image Credits
W.D. Aldridge
Sarah Beth Tanner
Matt Unterberger
Ann Alford
Becki Klauss