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Brett Harrison felt like making chicken and pasta for a pre-game meal, which makes him one of the most professional hockey players.
But the first-year pro had a problem.
Mason Lohrei, Harrison’s roommate early last season with the AHL Providence Bruins, was watching TV on the couch. Harrison told Lohrei about his plan. Lohrei approved.
Then 20-year-old Harrison had a question.
“How do I make the pasta?” Harrison asked his roommate.
“Boil the water,” Lohrei replied. “Put it in the water.”
“How,” Harrison replied, “do I boil the water?”
From crawling to walking
NHL teams pay attention to nutrition. The Minnesota Wild has an oatmeal bar where players can customize their bowls with berries, honey and nuts. Bruins players eat lunch on their practice rink after morning skate and leave with take-out containers for post-nap nutrition.
Young players in particular, whose calorie needs are often higher than those of veterans, cannot do without good and regular refueling. It could mean the difference between making it to the NHL or not.
“It’s a big role for every team now,” Florida Panthers general manager Bill Zito said of proper nutrition for newcomers. “How, when and where you fuel the body is critical.”
In some ways, the transition from amateur to pro hockey is seamless. Players play games, practice, train and sleep the same way for the New York Rangers, for example, as they did when they were in college or juniors.
But when it comes to cooking, players may feel like they’ve been thrown into the deep end of the pool. Even though teams provide pre- and post-skate spreads, players are on their own when they leave the rink – sometimes for the first time in their lives.
Consider that Harrison, a 2021 third-round pick of the Boston Bruins out of London, Ontario, played parts of three seasons in the OHL. Harrison lived with billet families while playing for the Oshawa Generals and Windsor Spitfires.
“I pretty much cook me three meals a day,” Harrison said. “I didn’t have to do much there.”
Fellow Bruins prospect Trevor Kuntar played three seasons at Boston College. Kuntar, a 2020 third-round pick, was known in BC’s dining halls as the guy who ate chicken and rice every day.
But unlike Harrison, Kuntar grew up as a regular chef under the tutelage of his father, Les. Now, as a second-year professional, Kuntar is practically on autopilot: eggs or overnight oats for breakfast, burritos for lunch, chicken and rice or salmon and mashed sweet potatoes for dinner.
Kuntar is proof that it is possible. But players who never shopped for groceries, prepared ingredients and cooked meals as teenagers can feel like taking to water as first-year pros. There are only so many times you can hit Chipotle.
“For a lot of young guys, it’s immaturity,” the Panthers’ AJ Greer said. “You just have to make the effort to cook. Because it’s easy to get something and go out to eat. Some guys do it.”
“Just like Jake DeBrusk,” Greer continued, destroying his ex-teammate’s chops. ‘I don’t even know how old he is: 29, 30? I don’t know if he’s cooked a home-cooked meal in the last ten years.
With the convenience of services like DoorDash, Grubhub and Uber Eats, it has never been easier for players to order their favorite meals. But eating out is pricey, and it’s hard to tell what’s in food that you don’t make yourself.
Consider the following ingredients: potassium lactate, sodium diacetate, tapiocadextrin and potassium sorbate, which are listed on the box of a chicken nugget meal package. The product is made by a brand that Bruins nutritionist Julie Nicoletti once heard was a staple in a former prospect’s rotation: Lunchables.
“A lot of young kids don’t know how to do it,” the Bruins’ Hampus Lindholm said. “So they go back and order McDonald’s.”
Lindholm, a native of Helsingborg, Sweden, was drafted No. 6 overall by the Anaheim Ducks in 2012. In 2012-13, an 18-year-old Lindholm played for the Norfolk Admirals, Anaheim’s then-AHL affiliate. When one of his young roommates celebrated a birthday, Lindholm baked a cake.
“They were so stunned that I made that from scratch,” Lindholm recalled of his teammates. “It’s so normal where I grew up: cooking and baking.”
What was also normal in Sweden was the small size of the average chicken fillet in the supermarket. When Lindholm went to the poultry department in Norfolk, the breasts were so big that the Swede thought they were using other chickens.
It seems that young players can learn something new at the supermarket.
Cooking for others
When Harrison, Lohrei and roommate Frédéric Brunet moved into their Providence apartment last season, one of their first visits was to Target. The first year pros needed pots, pans, silverware, plates and cups.
After some early turbulence, the housemates settled on a system. Lohrei, who grew up as sous chef to mother Teri Weiss, was in charge of the proteins. Brunet collected salads. Once Harrison mastered how to boil water, he took to pasta and rice.
Tuesday was taco night. The housemates chopped and fried onions and peppers and then added chicken or turkey to the pan. They have adapted their dishes with guacamole and sour cream.
Harrison was especially excited when Lohrei made turkey burgers. Harrison insisted on guacamole and pepper sauce.
Lohrei loved chicken cutlets and penne in a spicy vodka sauce. He was also looking forward to ground turkey bowls with rice, spinach, avocado and Harrison’s favorite pepper dressing.
It might have been more difficult if the players had lived alone. But cooking for friends helped Brunet, Harrison and Lohrei gain a foothold in the kitchen.
“Now he’s good,” Lohrei said of Harrison, the previously clueless cook. ‘He’s got the hang of it now. He makes much more than just noodles.”
The company of others goes a long way.
A roommate who makes “much more than just noodles” is cause for celebration for Mason Lohrei. (Sam Hodde/Getty Images)
Helping hands
Pavel Zacha was 12 years old when he moved to Liberec, about three hours north of his hometown of Velké Meziříčí in the Czech Republic. His father, also called Pavel, moved with him. While Zacha trained, practiced and played, his father was busy in the kitchen.
However, father and son went their separate ways when Zacha played for Sarnia Sting of the OHL as a 17-year-old. Zacha’s family was Danish. They didn’t make the meals his father cooked.
“I wasn’t used to eating hamburgers three times a week,” Zacha said.
Zacha became close with teammate Patrick White, who lived with the same family. White enjoyed being in the kitchen and was eventually put in charge of breakfast.
‘He was good. He even tried to act healthy sometimes,” Zacha said. “He even showed me how to run a dishwasher and dryer.”
By the time the New Jersey Devils drafted Zacha at No. 6 in 2015, he was ready to live on his own. Yet 19-year-old Zacha was no Julia Child.
One evening, at the suggestion of mother Ilona, Zacha put chicken and potatoes in a glass dish and put it in the oven. Zacha then went to watch TV.
The next thing he heard was the smoke alarm.
Zacha didn’t know how to turn it off. All he could do was open the windows and wait for the smoke to leave his apartment. The chicken and potatoes could no longer be saved.
“It was bad. I went to eat,” Zacha said. “It wasn’t the best. I gave up cooking for a week. Then I tried again.”
That season, Zacha was fortunate to live two floors below teammate Vern Fiddler. By then, the 36-year-old Fiddler had played more than 800 NHL games. The veteran showed the rookie how to shop, cook and clean up, among other things.
“Your first year is the hardest,” Zacha said. “But if you have good influences, it becomes easier.”
Some of the same young players who know exactly where to find the puck are lost in the kitchen. But they cannot afford to be without their bearings for long.
“Definitely an adjustment I had to make and continue to learn,” said 21-year-old Bruins prospect Ryan Mast. “But hockey player or not, you have to learn how to feed yourself.”
(Top photo of prospects during a training session with a nutritionist courtesy of the Bruins, and photo of pasta cooking: Stefano Guidi/Getty Images)