School cook was chef at White House

Monday, May 13, 2002 | 10:51 a.m.

The students at Lawrence Junior High School may not know it, but the man responsible for their pizza, salads and other lunch-time fare once whipped up a late-night dish of pasta for President Clinton in his West Wing offices.

Randy Alegre, a chef with 23 years of service in the U.S. Navy, including a stint from 1992 to 1996 at the White House, can now be found in the school's kitchen, supervising the preparations of fish sticks and chicken nuggets.

He's part of a growing trend in food service, where the lunch lady is being replaced by a male counterpart, said Sue Hoggan, regional manager of food services for the Clark County School District.

Hoggan said this is the first time in the 10 years she has been with the district that there are enough food service workers to fully staff the schools. She attributed the extra hands to the post-Sept. 11 economy and job market, in which as many as 10,000 hospitality industry workers were laid off.

"Under the worst possible circumstances we've been lucky enough to land some terrific employees," Hoggan said.

This week, as part of Child Nutrition Employee Appreciation Month, the school district has singled out Alegre as one of the organization's stars. The district has about 680 full-time food service employees and nearly 1,000 part-time workers. More than 23,000 breakfasts and nearly 80,000 lunches are served each day at the elementary and middle school campuses, plus thousands more at the district's high schools.

Alegre, 47, retired from the Navy last year as chief petty officer. He followed his wife of five years to Nevada after she was offered a job as a paralegal at a Las Vegas law firm. Feeling too young to stop working, but not willing to embark on a demanding new career at a hotel or casino, Alegre stumbled upon the Clark County School District's training program for food service managers.

It's been a perfect fit, said Alegre, who will mark his first anniversary with the school district next month.

"I like that I'm helping my community, making sure the children get the proper nutrition," Alegre said.

There's less stress on his new job, Alegre said. Feeding 2,400 teenagers daily between 10:35 a.m. and 12:30 p.m. is almost a vacation for the seasoned cook for the White House.

He no longer has to wear a pager and be ready to fly off at the drop of a toque. It's also easier to prepare a week's menus, he said, because the school district's offerings are limited to foods approved by the Nevada Department of Education and the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

When Clinton traveled Alegre was responsible for supervising the kitchen staffs at hotels, ensuring the president's list of dietary restrictions (no chocolate or wheat products) was followed.

Before the commander in chief was served, the chef would have to arrange four plates. Under the watchful eye of a Secret Service agent, Alegre would choose one plate at random and check for quality as well as -- gulp -- possible tampering.

Alex Layut, chief financial officer of the Presidential Food Services, said he wasn't surprised to hear his former colleague had traded the White House for a schoolhouse. At least two other former Navy cooks are now working at schools in Virginia, said Layut, who added he was considering a similar career move when he retires in a few years.

"Why not?" Layut said. "It's a great job with good hours, and you get to work with kids."

Alegre's days of feeding the president's entourage at such locales as Camp David or Korea may be behind him, but Alegre has plenty of mementos to remind him. There's his baseball cap emblazoned with the words "Presidential Food Services," and the photograph of Alegre with Barbra Streisand, who stopped in on her way through the White House.

Slightly less famous but more frequent visitors to the kitchen were Chelsea Clinton and the family's cat, Socks. Chelsea would peek in and check for fresh cookies, Alegre said. Socks, who was known to stroll into the kitchen annex next to Clinton's private offices, was always shooed out -- gently.

"We had to be nice to the cat," Alegre said.