SECRET'S OUT ON CHEF JIM BUCHTA'S FIRST WARD GEM

In Binghamton, a city of hidden treasures, our best-kept culinary secret may be found in the First Ward. Those who know what I’m talking about may hate me for putting it in print, but the rest of you will love me.

Sach’s Tee House is a homey bar tucked away amongst houses on Hazel Street, with golf paraphernalia lining the walls. The crowd reflects the neighborhood; there’s usually a golf game on the television, and rock music playing from the speakers. This is not a fancy place. But beyond the bar is an unassuming dining room, where Jim Buchta, the “Invisible Chef,” works his magic.

Something of a local legend, I first heard of Sach’s when I was told that there was an NYC expat chef who took up residence in the back of a dive. But none of that is true. Jim Buchta grew up in Binghamton, in its Second Ward, though he spent a little bit of time in Pennsylvania, and some in Kentucky.

On a recent trip to the Tee House, a friend and I got to enjoy a multi-course meal that demonstrated the variety, creativity, and care of Buchta’s craft. We started with a jerk pork appetizer and Asian Nachos, an old menu item that Jim plans on bringing back. The nachos are, basically, large fried Chinese noodles, sprinkled with cucumbers and peppers, drizzled with sriracha and wasabi mayonnaise. They are addictive, and would be the perfect hangover cure.

As for the rumor of his past life as a five-star New York City chef? “Yeah, I heard that one,” Buchta says, though it’s not the only one he’s heard. “I died. That’s the most recent one. A guy said to me, ‘That guy died,’ and I said, ‘You don’t know who you’re talking to. I’ll have to let him know.’” He recently spent some time in the hospital because of problems with his back, but any tales of heart attacks were purely fabricated.

Now, Buchta is back on his feet, and fabricating transcendent meals. Our second course consisted of a grilled romaine salad and some of the best New England clam chowder I have ever tasted. He makes it from scratch, and it’s one of his staples.

What Buchta does is entirely different than anything I’ve ever witnessed in a restaurant before: he shops for his ingredients on a daily basis, conjures up a concise menu, and serves each table, all behind the humble façade of a neighborhood bar. If you ask the chef for a recommendation, he may point to the menu and say, “I wrote them all here.” When asked of his origin story, he replies, “Well, that’s still a work-in-progress.” He speaks softly, but with great certainty, and remembers everything. “It was just what happened. It wasn’t planned.”

Jim started out working at Sach’s making bar food and meatloaf, but his background was in more upscale cooking. He began cooking there on Russian Christmas of 2009; he recalls, “It wasn’t going so well; I was making a burger or two a week.” That wasn’t working for him, and over the course of his first year at there, he began to elevate the offerings of the bar’s dining room. “I started mixing up the dinners, bringing in higher-quality stuff and making better meals. And it just took off. Next thing you know, a handful of people are coming; another handful of people are coming. It was a hundred-dollar investment. It’s what I do, anyhow, so it’s not really an effort.”

After our soup and salad, we enjoyed a lamb shank served with wilted spinach over Israeli cous cous. While Buchta’s influences span the globe, his education was very local. “My mom started my culinary background when I was about seven. My brother and I were little hooligans […] we were wrestling under the bed or something, and she grabbed us by the ears, dragged us into the kitchen, put us up in front of the stove, and there was this massive cast iron pan, glowing red. She looked at us and said, ‘You kids are such little assholes, you’re never gonna have wives, so if you wanna eat, you better learn how to cook.’ And she taught us how to cook.”

Food is in his blood; his name dates back to the origins of Buchta bread, a Czechoslovakian baker’s bread traditionally served around Easter. Everyone in his family could cook, and Jim found himself working in restaurants and caterers all around town. After several misses, he got a job at Daniel’s.

“Those guys knew me as a hothead in the kitchen; I’d question the chef. They kind of liked that I had an attitude.” They encouraged him to step up, but only if he truly enjoyed that level of freedom and responsibility in the kitchen. Soon enough, he found himself as Chef de Cuisine. “Up until then, I was a cook, but I learned how to be a chef when I worked there.”

Jim’s creations are timely and fresh, honest reflections of each day. “The idea of what I do is, I go out – I don’t have a truck come, because I don’t have that kind of budget – I shop at Maines, Butcher Boys, Wegmans. I go out for a few hours a day and talk to the people who are handling the food and ask them what’s fresh, what looks good.” He seeks out the best catch of the day, or a steak that’s cut just to his liking. He also sources directly from local farmers, for things like eggs and produce, depending on the time of year. “I let my food speak for itself.”

The crab cakes served with baby bok choy spoke to me with an abundance of fresh crab, and no overbearing filler. As for the sirloin medallions with mushroom bordelaise, I was left speechless: the flavor of the dish completely justified the demolition of this intricate, miniature tower of meat and potatoes.

“That’s the art major,” Jim explains. “I was an art major in high school, and all three days of college. I was a sculptor, an illustrator, a drawer. I was never very good at painting. A plate is another canvas, in a sense.” He also enjoys writing, and considers himself a warrior-poet. He is currently working on a cookbook that is becoming something of a graphic novel. “A lot of it is things I remember from my life, from cooking.”

Our meal was finished with a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie and Countess Caroline flourless chocolate cake, which was divine. Buchta draws inspiration from his experiences, and also from the images that he conjures when selecting ingredients. “You kind of get a vision in your head […] like, gosh, that would look really nice with this.” He says that, ultimately, most things taste pretty good together. “We have some stringent rules, but chefs have been knocking those rules down since the ‘80s, and that’s when I kind of got started. We were doing kale in the nineties; no one liked it.”

Make another trip to Sach’s, or live it for the first time. Buchta dwells in the kitchen from Tuesday through Saturday, from around 5pm until whenever; hours sometimes vary. Reservations are recommended, preferably a day in advance, as Jim buys food for the day, each day. There is also a standard bar menu, which boasts the best burgers in town. Cash only; drinks are separate from food (and very affordable). Sach’s Tee House is located at 34 Hazel Street in Binghamton’s First Ward. For reservations, call Sach’s Tee House at (607) 797-9628, or you can call Buchta directly at (607) 372-1025.