Five Minutes with Bay View Restaurant Executive Chef William Rivera

by Martin Ramirez on November 21, 2024 in Food+Drink,
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With a stunning Texas Hill Country backdrop painted across the sky, dining at Bay View Restaurant+Bar on Lake LBJ is more than just a meal — it’s an experience that captures your heart. 

Executive Chef William Rivera has infused every dish with the essence of his personal story, blending the warmth of home cooking with the sophistication of Napa Valley’s fine dining. Recently, TLM had the pleasure of sitting with Chef Will to reflect on his roots in Agua Dulce, from wild game hunting, fishing, and collecting from the land to upscale dining throughout California, Louisiana and Texas.  

Executive Chef Will Rivera. Photo Kelly Serfoss.

Can you tell us about your earlier years and how that started your culinary career?

I’ve always enjoyed cooking and the idea of food more so than cooking. Everyone has that story: “I used to stand on a stool next to my grandmother, stirring a pot or rolling cookies.” I’m not taking away from anyone who says that — I did the same thing — but I feel like that’s a pretty common thing. Everyone does that, and that’s how you bond with people in your family because food is the most intimate thing you can do with your family. But for me, I grew up going to my family’s ranch, which was where my grandparents lived and where my mother grew up. We all would go there every weekend.

Winter menu spread. Photo Kelly Serfoss.

We had to make food for like 60. My mom is one of 12, so they all came over every Sunday. So, for me, food was interesting in its growth. It was my grandfather’s garden. Or going out into the brush. I was six years old with a twenty-two in my hand hunting rabbit. Then we would go out picking prickly pear or nopales. So seeing the gathering of it get turned into something was awesome. And the same goes for hunting with my dad. My greatest memories are hunting birds, deer or hogs with my dad. The funny thing is I haven’t picked up a gun since I was 20.  But it was a formative part of my career because going out and dove hunting with my dad was big. We would take the dove breasts and, just like everyone else, wrap them in bacon and put the leaf of an onion around the outside so it doesn’t dry. That flavor always stuck in my head. 

Back in 2015, when I was in San Antonio, I made this sauce where I purposely burnt onions, but I stacked them so high so they could also steam. I steamed half, burnt half, and then emulsified it with bacon fat, replicating that flavor from my childhood. So I’m trying to pull from those things, like fishing with my dad. When you go fishing in the Gulf, there’s this thing called hitting the slicks. It’s when trout, when schooling, emits a smell like melons. You can smell it, and there’s a shine on the surface. Fast forward 20 or 30 years, I made this sea trout served with a cold melon soup and a basil oil drip to mimic the slicks. I called it Trout on the Slicks. That was from growing up around food, which was always celebratory. For me, birthdays weren’t “What do you want?” but instead, “What do you want me to cook?” I want mom’s fried chicken with bean empanadas and boiled eggs. That sounds crazy to a lot of people. But growing up, every Easter, that’s what we had. But my birthday is in August, so far from Easter. I want bean empanadas and fried chicken in August.

Bay View winter drinks. Photo Kelly Serfoss.

Then, of course, watching my grandmothers, which I know everyone says. But it was more when I got a little older that I realized this might get lost because no one else was picking up the traditions and running with them. In fact, I went back before my last grandmother passed. I took days off, which I never did, and went down to my grandmother so I could get her to actually dictate to me her morcilla recipe, which is a Mexican blood sausage. So I took that morcilla recipe and stuffed some quail with it, and entered that into the biggest paella challenge which is in San Antonio. And I won! I won a trip to Spain, and I credited my grandmother for that win. It all ties back.

Bar at Bay View. Photo Kelly Serfoss.

What’s your favorite meal from your mom or favorite game meat that you hunted with your dad?

From my mom, fried chicken and bean empanadas. But there’s a close second with the boiled guisado. She would slow-cook chicken in a gravy with chilies, onions, and spices. And my mom didn’t have a spice grinder, so this is all in a molcajete, which is how most people started. Mortar and pestle for everything. I think this is more of a Texas thing or a South Texas thing, but we had quick pickles for every meal. There’s no effort; it’s sliced onion, cucumber, salt, pepper, and white vinegar. That flavor is combined with fresh tortillas. We were a flour tortilla family. That combination is like my favorite on the planet. Regarding game meat, I was probably most inspired by the dove, but my favorite thing to eat was venison backstrap. And the way we would make it is like chicken fried down and out, but we wouldn’t eat it like a chicken fried steak. We’d eat it in tortillas with refried beans and lemon. Man, that was a treat.

Gathering at Bay View. Photo Kelly Serfoss.

How would you describe your time in California, from Napa to Carmel Valley?

It was very formative for my style because when I moved there, frankly, I didn’t have a style. I’d only been cooking professionally for three years — although at a really nice restaurant — it was still only three years. And it’s funny because I remember thinking, looking at half a chicken, wondering, “How many ways do you actually cook this?” I knew at the time four ways. And now, it’s like infinite. I learned techniques. I learned better discipline. And ingredients. 

Initially, my first time in Napa, I got hired for pastry, which I had no experience with, and I forced my way. Naive as I was, I turned 21 on the drive to California. I got out there, and my buddy set up stage in this place, and I just showed up with him. As cringey as it is, I put on my school coat. It was the only one I had, like a nerd. The chef of Farm at the time, Christoff Gerard, was like, “You just don’t show up!” They’re chasing Michelin at this time. And this guy, Chef Tim Wood (runs Woody’s in Monterey), was sous at the time, had two restaurants out there, and was running this big banquet. He gave me a couple of things to do. I was there shucking fava beans and cutting up crostinis for a cheese display and all these random little tasks, and I didn’t even know what style was. Then Tim asked if I wanted to go to an off-site, up Silverado trail at Cade Winery. He asked if I knew how to make a cheeseboard, which was one of the only things I knew because I had worked with a Formaggio before. I set it up and made it look all nice. I’m doing everything, just trying to remember or mimic it from the past. And towards the end of the night, the exec of the property came up and told Tim, “We need to hire this guy.” So I got a job they weren’t even considering me for, but they had to start me in pastries. The pastry chef there, Fabrice Dubeau, was one of the most talented people I’ve worked with to this day. I wish I knew where he is now. He had come from Palm Springs, where he ran a bakery and used to cook for Sunny and Cher all the time. He took me under his wing, and I just showed up early, left late, and worked with him every day.

Family style sides elote and mushrooms at Bay View Restaurant+Bar. Photo Martin Ramirez.

They moved me to lead line cook on the hotline at Farm, and so I’m running the meat station. Then I got a phone call one day from my brother. My father was battling a liver disease. We all thought he was doing a little better. Then he went into cardiac arrest, and it all happened in the blink of an eye. So I came home. After helping my family, traveling, and opening a restaurant in San Antonio called Luke, I went back to California. I had called Tim, who was in Carmel Valley Ranch, and he needed help in this fine dining spot, The Lodge. And I had a great time there. Talk about ingredients. I’ll never get ingredients like that again. They had a five-acre lot with a garden and our own gardener who grew whatever we wanted. He’d bring up the most beautiful petite greens and herbs and flowers. Also, salt and honey. We made our own salt. They go a mile out and a mile deep and get water in Monterey Bay. They’d bring it back and we had trays and specialty houses that would evaporate the trays, leaving a flaky salt. We grew lavender, so lavender was on everything. We had our own bees. Organic vegetables from the garden would change with specials daily. And I got spoiled. So, coming back here, I have so much respect for farmers. My grandfather was a farmer. But growing vegetables in a natural way here in Texas is a much different ball game than out there. California really made me a simpler cook, and it made me appreciate the ingredients a lot more.

Ahi Tuna nachos. Photo Martin Ramirez.

What did you take from that experience of cooking in high-end restaurants?

Appreciate the ingredients and the people. It was a different environment back then. I don’t consider it the glory days like many people do. There was a dictator, a junior dictator, and then the rest of us. It taught me discipline, but at the same time, it was not sustainable. But at Carmel, it wasn’t that way. I give Tim so much credit because what I took from him was understanding that people are people. You’re managing people, not the next piece of paper. The way I see it, if you don’t end up better than me, I’m not doing my job.

Bay View rear view. Photo Kelly Serfoss.

Can you tell us about the menu at Bay View Restaurant and how it reflects this part of Texas?

Here at Bay View, our idea is to be where anybody can go and have a cheeseburger with iced tea or some Akiyoshi Texas beef and fine wine. It’s up to you. Have your experience, whatever experience you want. We’re here to provide great service, which is probably my number one priority. I know it’s weird coming from a chef, but I’ll never go back to a restaurant where I was treated rudely — no matter if the food was great. Service is our number one focus. And then, obviously, quality food. 

To celebrate the area, I have some partnerships with locals. Enchanted Mushrooms is one of my favorite partnerships. They’re out of Llano, Texas, and have been good friends of mine for years. They grow the most amazing mushrooms I’ve ever had; we incorporate them into menus and specialty dinners. When we do specialty dinners, we partner with a winery. This is where we really get to flex locality. We get to elevate, too, because we like to be welcoming every night. But these wine dinners get extravagant with five-course pairings. Next month, we’re paired up with Cake Bread. Last month, we paired up with Foust. And I’ve done wine dinners most of my career. One thing that I pride myself on is that I never repeat a dish. Every dinner is entirely new. No one’s tried it, not even me. I know I’m getting watched, so I will not repeat anything. I’ll call my purveyors and see what we have coming out of the Gulf. Also, we get all our grains from Barton Springs Mill. I got heirloom Texas corn milled to my specs. Our grits are made from that. The grits are Hopi blue corn grits, a native corn varietal. They grind it specifically for grits, and then they grind it finer for my cornmeal, and that’s how I make the Hopi blue corn cornbread. People think I put a bunch of sugar in it because it’s sweet. But it’s really from corn, the way corn should be. The corn is sweet and so naturally fragrant. I mean, it tastes like corn. Corn has such a bad rap from all the GMOs. All our stuff from Barton Springs is unmatched. One dish I love: blue corn tamales from winter last year. Pork flat iron steak braised in two blue corn tamales with a salsa verde. It’s harder to sell over the summer, but I love that dish because it was very much of the area. We’re talking Berkshire pork. Everything. It really spoke of Texas for me.

Tomahawk Schnitzel. Photo Martin Ramirez.

We also have German influence here in the Texas Hill Country. So, the Schnitzel that I have on the menu is a Tomahawk Schnitzel. It’s a whole pork rack, bone in, with Tasso gravy and a little grilled lemon. It’s wild.

With Chef Will at Bay View. Photo Martin Ramirez.

What’s ahead for you in the restaurant? Is there anything you are excited about?

We just took over Canyon Grille Rough Hollow, about 45 minutes from here. We’re really excited about that. They’re now part of our team, and we’re also looking forward to putting up a grocery store out there. That’s within the next year. And then we have one more project that’s almost closed, and that’ll be really fun. We’re really looking forward to that one. That one I want people to check back in and see what it is. We’ll be just a little bit closer to the water.

See Bay View Restaurant+Bar’s website for menus, events, and reservations. Follow them on Instagram, Facebook, or Yelp for more information.

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Cover photo Kelly Serfoss

Martin Ramirez is a brisket-eating, Shiner-loving, road-tripping enthusiast of all things Texas. This Dallas-born writer / adventurer is ready to take his ‘78 El Camino to find the best in food, fun, and fitness throughout the Lone Star State.