Chef a 'staple' in Macy's kitchen

On certain days, the aroma can stretch five floors down to the fragrance counters.

When that happens, even the Lancome ladies at the downtown Macy's store can't keep themselves off the escalator to see what Toni Keene has come up with in the sixth-floor Home department.

It was Frango Friday, so that meant everything would be made with the store's signature confection. Pies, nut-cheese balls and cookies: some 820 of them, made with eight pounds of Frangos and combined in an industrial mixer. "Remember, Christmas isn't Christmas without Frangos," Keene told the crowd. All they could do was nod and chew.

Anyone who has ever bought even a spatula here knows Toni Keene. She's the short-haired lady in the black chef's jacket with the everything-is-going-to-work-out tone that will embolden the most cowardly cook. She cuts, she chops, she bakes and demonstrates. She'll steer you away from the pots that will ruin your glass-top stove, and if you don't have a Kitchen Aid mixer, well, you need one.

For 20 years, Keene, 65, has made this corner of the corporate retail giant a place where the Christmas spirit lives, creating good smells, sound advice, a cup of coffee and a warm cookie before you shop some more. And take a recipe, too. Save yourself some time.

"I want people to feel better," Keene said the other day. "And right now, I think everybody is going through some difficulty. If I can put a smile on people's faces, then I go home knowing my job is done."

Store manager Rob Nickel called Keene "a staple." When the The Bon Marché was taken over by Macy's a few years ago, much changed — but Keene stayed.

She tests new products, teaches cooking classes and makes recommendations for every kind of cookware.

Keene is right there when customers come off the skybridge, her voice sharing the speakers with Dean Martin and Rosemary Clooney Christmas tunes.

"I have some people who come in every day," Keene said. "I love it. I get to talk with customers and have a good time. Where else can you play, and they pay you?"

Keene was working at Larry's Market as a chef before she was asked to become Bon Marché's gourmet chef in 1989. Before that, she made wedding cakes, worked in a dental office, did commercial art for an advertising agency and even delivered milk door to door.

If she needs cookware, she heads out onto the floor but doesn't take advantage of the fact that the Home Department is her oyster.

"I only take it if I know that I can sell it," she said.

When her equipment needs to be updated, she sells her old stuff to employees at a private, backroom sale, and donates the proceeds to a food bank.

On the front of her counter, she keeps copies of 16 recipes for everything from pumpkin muffins to clam cakes — all with "Enjoy! Toni," printed on the bottom.

Macy's has published six, 48-page recipe booklets bearing Keene's image and expertise.

"They put out 3,000 on the first whack, and those didn't last a month," she said.

Pat Payne, 66, worked in intimate apparel for years before moving upstairs to help Keene and ring up sales at the registers behind her.

"When you get somebody in the right bra, it's an ego boost," Payne told me. "But I like it better up here."

As noon approached, the smell of Frango cookies had spread, literally, to China.

"It's kinda like the cat and the can opener," Keene said with a smile.

One man walked up, looking a little confused.

"I was brought over here by the smell," he said. "I was gone!"

A crowd of people hovered around the counter like skiers around a fireplace, sipping peppermint coffee and watching closely while Keene moved warm cookies from the sheet to a plate.

"We all know her," said customer Gloria Baldwin, 62, of West Seattle, who worked in the tea room at Frederick & Nelson some 35 years ago.

"She's a legend," said John O'Connor, 58, another customer. "It wouldn't be the same if you came in and Toni wasn't here."

All the while, she chatted away, a little dish with the dish. Did you know if you wash your garlicky fingers while also washing a spoon, the smell would disappear? ("It just works," Keene shrugged.) Some people slipped to the front, paid for a cookie with a slightly embarrassed smile, and moved on — but not before tossing a "Thanks, Toni!" over their shoulders.

"You're welcome!" Keene called, and then leaned over to pull another pan out of the oven.

Nicole Brodeur's column appears Tuesday and Friday. Reach her at 206-464-2334 or nbrodeur@seattletimes.com.

Pray for her Frango pie.