“I never considered being a chef,” says Shields. “In those days, cooking was not an honorable profession. That was like telling your parents you wanted to be a vagrant or an axe murderer.” Since music was also something the family loved, Shields attended the Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore.

The transition from music to cooking was not calculated. Shields admits that he didn’t have a game plan and “kind of tripped along with most of my career.” As it happened, while Shields was trying to eke out a living playing music in Cape Cod, a friend who was working in a popular kitchen injured himself. He asked Shields to help out at the restaurant and Shields did.

Part of a Revolution
“I began to love the restaurant world,” Shields says. “On Cape Cod, I was able to meet the local fisherman, see the scallops, oysters, lobsters and mussels up close. It was exciting.” After several restaurant stints, Shields moved to northern California in the 1980s. He became the executive chef at A La Carte, a highly regarded French restaurant with a daily-changing menu. Eventually, he missed the food of his youth and opened his own restaurant, which shared the regional American fare of the Chesapeake Bay. The Berkeley restaurant was named Gertie’s Chesapeake Bay Café for his grandmother.

Shields also became part of Berkeley’s now-famous “gourmet ghetto.” The group of “post-hippies, rebels and pioneers included Alice Waters, Jeremiah Tower and Jonathan Waxman,” Shields says. “None of us had a formal background in food, but we loved it. We traveled. We learned from each other. We studied Julia Child and Jacques Pepin. It was a remarkable time.” And as we now know, this is where the seeds for the New American Food revolution were planted. This is where the philosophies of cultivating relationships with local farmers and artisanal producers, of using in-season, organic and sustainably grown ingredients emerged as important. These ideas shook up the American culinary status quo.

Since then, Shields has seen many phases in American cuisine. “Food has gone a bit mad,” he says. “There is so much food, so many different approaches. It feels overloaded, which is true of our society overall. It feels like it’s going to burst. I’m not saying chefs shouldn’t be playful. But why try to be different just to be different? It’s a disservice to the food.” It is not just the food that concerns Shields. He also worries about our obsession with acquiring lots of culinary gadgets. “Cooks have so much stuff.”

Regaining Respect for Grandma’s Cooking
Having lived on three bays (Chesapeake, Cape Cod and San Francisco), Shields has been naturally drawn to seafood. In fact, he is known as an expert in regional American coastal cuisine. But Shields, who has now returned to Baltimore, is not content to stay put. As his interests have evolved, the scope of coastal cuisine feels too broad, and he chooses to narrow his focus to real food—the straightforward, local food of his grandmother’s day. “I am interested in the specific coastal cuisine of the Chesapeake Bay, which is my community,” he says. “Embracing readily available and regional food is an important mission for any chef. One can help rebuild local food economies and it preserves the traditions of our culinary heritages.”

Shields says he is done with pretentious food. “I am just plain bored with combining all sorts of exotic ingredients simply for the sake of seeming creative and trendy,” he writes. “I am all for simple food, real food that is prepared with little fuss or muss, allowing the true flavor of the ingredients to shine through—or, if you will, to sing.”

When Shields was growing up, every day of the week was associated with a meal. Friday was fresh-from-the-bay rockfish. Saturday was sausage with homemade rye and when in season, vine-ripened tomatoes. Sunday was roast chicken, peas, carrots and mashed potatoes. “There was a simplicity to that, which was comforting as a child. You knew what to expect.” More importantly, there were lots of in-season vegetables. If meatloaf was served, there were more vegetables than protein. Americans now serve protein-centered meals and have strayed from the eating habits of the past. Shields points out that “Thomas Jefferson viewed meat only as a condiment” and that the contemporary American diet has resulted in obesity and a long list of ailments.

Of course, we all know that vegetables are important, and in the past few years, we have heard much about buying local and eating with the seasons. Highlighting local products has even become a popular marketing tool. So, one would think this is old news. Unfortunately, Shields says that while many people are aware, most have not truly changed their eating or shopping habits.

Today, Shields owns Gertrude’s at the Baltimore Museum of Art. The name is, once again, a tribute to his grandmother. But Shields says that his role is not as executive chef. “I am a proprietor—I taste and talk. I am more like the culinary godfather and spiritual director. I teach and inspire.” And his passion for real food is something he will continue to impart beyond the parameters of Gertrude’s.

Shields believes that all chefs must be inspired by their surroundings. “We all need to know where we live,” he says. “Food keeps us rooted and located. It gives us some footing. We need to notice what we have around us to eat and treat those ingredients with respect. It is our common table. Our communal meal.”

Lynn Schwartz is a writer and former New York City restaurateur. She is based in Maryland.