It’s been a long 7 days since our last class. It was also our last class of Level 2. Everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving and cooked their birds perfectly, supposedly. I could write a post on my thanksgiving and all the wonderful food we prepared, but I’ll spare you the glory.
There was a different air in the place. Every time we advance a level, and for that matter, all of the Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday classes, a new class comes in. The last class that came in was only a level below us. The new class is a whopping TWO levels below us. There were people asking ME how to tie their neckerchiefs, and about their side towels. But to be honest, this was not much of a concern. I was thinking about Level 3.
The new class is now on the second floor. The Kitchen is a lot older than the one we were using, but it feels like it has more of what we need. First off, there are about 5 or 6 scales for measuring ingredients. Our last class had, at best, 2. The pots and pans looked a little more beat up and weathered… but that just means they’ve been around and have tasted more food.
Oh, an interesting point to consider. Level 3 is all about consistency and TIME MANAGEMENT. We have 4 sets of recipes that we do every 4 classes. The recipes consist of a soup/appetizer, fish, entrée and dessert. The first 4 classes we work in teams of 2, then we go solo. As a team, we only need to do 2 of the recipes, and when we go solo, we still do 2.
Most importantly, there is a time frame. Chef Rob wants them done at a certain time, and that is a pretty set time. He did state, I’d rather your dishes be 10 minutes late and perfect, than on time and incomplete.
Chef Rob
The first time we met him was in one of our last classes in Level 2. He came up to our class and was pretty strict. Asking why some people had their aprons off while we were still in class. He was very succinct. “I don’t want to see the book in class, you better bring notes, and be prepared.” That was our initial impression. Downstairs in Level 3, Chef Rob seemed really different. He was very nice, and was helping us out, not trying to break our balls or anything. He helped us with our food, and brought us necessary pots. The assistant chef showed us a technique of cooling down our marmite that we were using for our consommé. He didn’t just tell us, he brought us the bain marie with ice. I did not expect such assistance, but it was very much appreciated.
Chef Rob walked around the class assisting everyone, seeing what he had to work with. But as a team’s time approached, he focused more of his attention on them, giving pointers on serving, and finishing the dish. Speaking of which, service is more heavily graded in level 3. Presentation, temperature of the food (as I have learned the hard way with my mashed potatoes), cleanliness of the plate, temperature of the plate, etc., is all scrutinized more carefully. Finger prints on a plate is unacceptable. A bowl of soup is served with a plate and a doily beneath it.
We’re working on the details now. But Chef Rob seems really great so far. He’s enthusiastic and loves to teach, so he said. He is definitely on par with Chef Tom. Most importantly, he was very nice in the critique of our food. We did a pretty good job to begin with, but where we were slightly off, he was very nice in explaining what went wrong and how to fix it the next time.
Moving right along, I was paired up with the new girl. I won’t mention her name yet because I don’t know her well enough to trust that it’s ok. But she was the one who did really well on the test, and I was ready to learn a thing or two. What I do know is that she is quick with the knife. She is confident in her cuts, and makes them quickly. She worked on the julienne and cuts for actually making the consommé, including mixing in the meat and egg whites, etc. I worked on the macedoine garnish for the consommé. The consommé was the first thing to be prepared, with a service time of 8:00. As a refresher, the consommé is a disgusting mush of lean meat, julienned veggies, chopped tomatoes and egg whites, gently simmered in beef marmite. After a little while the mush starts to congeal and form a raft at the top. You have to let the raft collect all the fat and particles and then ladle out the consommé into a chinois, degrease, and serve over the macedoine of vegetables.
Ours was looking great from the beginning, so chef said. Everything was going really well until my partner accidentally cracked some pepper into the consommé. It’s supposed to be peppered before it’s ladled, and only salted afterwards. He said the first thing he tasted was pepper. We also had a little fat on top, which may have been a result of using a fat laden ladle. I also put too many vegetables in the bowl.
It was a little stressful getting the dish served but we did it. Imagine those Iron chefs plating 5 or 6 master dishes in about an hour (including prep work)?! That’s damn impressive.
The next dish we got cracking on was a poached chicken. I don’t feel a chicken, or any meat really lends itself to being poached. But it was actually not bad. I’ll make this description very brief. First we wash, remove the wishbone and wingtips and poach the chicken in cold water. Bring to a boil, and simmer for 2 minutes. Take it out, and put it in an ice bath to stop the cooking. Next we’re supposed to cover with stock and bring to BELOW a simmer for about 20-30 minutes. I mentioned this previously, but I believe most, if not all of the cooking times we are told is more than enough. The chicken cooked in less than 20 minutes, and it was almost 160 degrees, which is ok, but can be considered over cooked. That’s barely enough time to make enough cocotte and prepare the rest of the vegetables that go in the dish.
Either way, the dish came out about 5 minutes late, but everything was cooked perfectly minus that fact that we cooked the potatoes in the broth we served it in, which lent itself to being a little on the cloudy side. Not the end of the world. The food and our plates were hot, and the taste was good, especially considering it was a poached chicken.
After this dish, we were done. Some other people needed to present their apple tart, but we completed our dishes. I feel, for our first class, we did a great job. Chef was pleased with everyone in the class, and we all (including the chef), set a good impression.
I’m not exactly sure what’s on the menu for the next class, but I am working alone. I will be doing the garde manger and saucier positions alone, and I will be on top of my game. This is my first chance to shine, and I’m sure I will. I’m not user when I became so competitive, maybe it was day 1, but I guess I am only out for me. When you work as a team, you obviously succeed and fail as a team, but when you go solo everything that’s great was created from your own to hands, and everything that sucks came from your own ass.
Some words to live by in Level 3: discipline and consistency.
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
Do you Truss me?
This class was an introduction to poultry. This is where cleanliness needs to be stepped up a bit. Chicken is one of the most popular purveyors of salmonella (dirty, dirty chickens) and therefore, we needed to be careful not to cross contaminate our foods. We needed to sanitize our boards, and our knives, and make sure they didn't get in contact with clean utensils or food before they were sanitized. Easier said than done, but we managed.
One of the more interesting things we did was 1) pull out (rip the bone from the carcass) the wishbones from the raw chicken (and again for the duck), and then 2) trussing the duck with a trussing needle.
The chicken was sauteed skin down, and finished in the oven, and the duck was roasted. Today went well, but my partner was realizing that she had a terrible toothache. This was more of a factor in our next class, but for the time being it was tolerable for me and for her.
To be perfectly honest, I don't remember anything special about this class. Though Chef Tom had us put the roasted duck in the oven a lot later than we should have, and therefore it was undercooked by the time class was over. OH!! we made a terrific l'orange sauce that I wanted to take home, but my partner chucked it due to time constraints. So I brought home the raw duck which I finished cooking on the stove, but I had no l'orange sauce to top it with. It looked delicious, and she tasted it and said it WAS delicious, but I didn't even have a chance to taste it.
Not the end of the world, but it would have been awesome to have with the duck.
All in all, as good a class as it could have been, considering the Chef had us start the duck late. But it went well.
One of the more interesting things we did was 1) pull out (rip the bone from the carcass) the wishbones from the raw chicken (and again for the duck), and then 2) trussing the duck with a trussing needle.
The chicken was sauteed skin down, and finished in the oven, and the duck was roasted. Today went well, but my partner was realizing that she had a terrible toothache. This was more of a factor in our next class, but for the time being it was tolerable for me and for her.
To be perfectly honest, I don't remember anything special about this class. Though Chef Tom had us put the roasted duck in the oven a lot later than we should have, and therefore it was undercooked by the time class was over. OH!! we made a terrific l'orange sauce that I wanted to take home, but my partner chucked it due to time constraints. So I brought home the raw duck which I finished cooking on the stove, but I had no l'orange sauce to top it with. It looked delicious, and she tasted it and said it WAS delicious, but I didn't even have a chance to taste it.
Not the end of the world, but it would have been awesome to have with the duck.
All in all, as good a class as it could have been, considering the Chef had us start the duck late. But it went well.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
A whole class on salads?
Yes, an entire class on salads. And quite frankly it may be one of the more important ones we've had thus far (though emulsification was fun and proved quite interesting). If you think about it, depending on what type of cuisine you're having, the salad could be the very first, or very last thing you shove down your pie hole. It could make or ruin a meal. If the first thing you put in your mouth is a soggy piece of lettuce or a big chunk of raw carrot, it could leave a bad taste in your mouth.
To be honest, I sent an email to a few friends who asked me what I've been up to in class. Quite frankly I feel like I wrote what should have been the entry for this blog post, and I may have lost the words after writing it the first time. Hence I am pasting in the bulk of that email so you can get the same passion that went into writing it the first time, rather than a watered down repetition as I feel it may be if I were to write it a second time. Here goes:
The salad dressing is what brings it all together. The key is a temporary emulsification... That is, the oil and vinegar, not having a binding agent, like egg yolks, can only stay in suspension for a short period. the general ratio of dressing is 3:1 Oil to vinegar, plus salt, pepper, and any other herbs or seasoning and flavors (lemon juice, wines, etc..) you want to add. Beat them together with a whisk and they emulsify, though only temporarily, and will need a quick beating before using.
With that said, a salad is anything you want to put in it... the one that may have taken the most time was the salade nicoise. Originally, it was intended to be a rustic salad, everything tossed together and devoured, but in order to charge 15 bucks for it you need to use the finest ingredients and make them look pretty. I really should be writing this in my blog and sending you there... but you're special.. anyhow, this salad consists of boiled new potatoes, hard boiled eggs, anchovies, tuna, and some greens and tomatoes.
FOR EVERYONE'S INFORMATION!! When boiling almost anything, you should try to have like sized ingredients (match the sizes of your potatoes when boiling, a tiny one will turn to mush before a larger one gets soft, and usually boiled separately - turnips cook faster than carrots - as they will take different times despite their sizes), and you start in cold water. This allows the items being boiled to heat up at a constant temperature throughout the entire item - potato, egg, etc. Rather than throwing it in boiling water, flash cooking the outside, then overcooking it just to cook the inside. You catch me? And it doesn't take any longer than the time to boil the water. Also, reduce to a simmer after the boiling process has begun.. the water temperature pretty much remains the same.
The nicoise salad consisted of boiled eggs and potatoes, peeled, seeded tomatoes, peeled, julienned green pepper (yes peeled with a peeler, it was weird), green beans cooked a l'anglaise (boiled in really salty water then shocked in an ice bath, but contrary to my previous statement, the water should already be boiling...) In French cooking boiling/cooking veggies is usually to the point that it is tender. Al dente is too raw. But when cooking these veggies, you usually cook them separately.
(We made a different salad of cooked veggies - carrots, turnips, peas, string beans, all cut to the size of the peas, and we had to cook them individually a l'anglaise. It was a bitch, but that one was really good, we bound them together with mayo that we made and seasoned with salt and pepper.. really good)
So we cooked the peas and string beans, and broke up some romaine lettuce. Plated everything nicely [the potatoes were sliced and laid out in a ring, each slice overlapping the previous slice, with the lettuce piled on top], then topped with some anchovies and chunks of white canned tuna (in water). Dressing was drizzled on everything, though the lettuce was dressed separately by drizzling the sides of the bowl with dressing and gently tossing the salad against the sides. They should not be overdressed!!! or else they get soggy as you all know.
------ The email ended here. I'll continue with some more insight.
The first salad we made was the cooked vegetables bound together with a home made mayo. The veggies consisted of carrots, turnips, peas and string beans, all cut to macedoine size (.5 cm cubed, the string beans were not cubed, just cut to size, and the peas were... well, the size of peas) Each vegetable was cooked a l'anglaise individually because each vegetable takes a different amount of time to cook. But by cutting them to the same size, we could pretty much guarantee that within its own species, the vegetables will all be done when one cube is done.
What differentiated our cubed-vegetables-in-mayo salad from a normal something-in-mayo salad was that the veggies weren't drowning in mayo. The mayo was simply there to bind the veggies together, and for some flavoring. It did not overpower the sweetness and individuality of the vegetables, and having them in uniform sizes was pleasant to the tongue, and no vegetable stood out over the other. It was quite a nice blend.
The nicoise salad, as I mentioned in much detail, was pretty good too, though we avoided eating the anchovies. Close minded? Maybe, but we didn't need 'em. I can't recall anything too memorable besides the salads that we made, but there can't always be drama and me passing judgment on others... boring? Sure, whatever.
To be honest, I sent an email to a few friends who asked me what I've been up to in class. Quite frankly I feel like I wrote what should have been the entry for this blog post, and I may have lost the words after writing it the first time. Hence I am pasting in the bulk of that email so you can get the same passion that went into writing it the first time, rather than a watered down repetition as I feel it may be if I were to write it a second time. Here goes:
The salad dressing is what brings it all together. The key is a temporary emulsification... That is, the oil and vinegar, not having a binding agent, like egg yolks, can only stay in suspension for a short period. the general ratio of dressing is 3:1 Oil to vinegar, plus salt, pepper, and any other herbs or seasoning and flavors (lemon juice, wines, etc..) you want to add. Beat them together with a whisk and they emulsify, though only temporarily, and will need a quick beating before using.
With that said, a salad is anything you want to put in it... the one that may have taken the most time was the salade nicoise. Originally, it was intended to be a rustic salad, everything tossed together and devoured, but in order to charge 15 bucks for it you need to use the finest ingredients and make them look pretty. I really should be writing this in my blog and sending you there... but you're special.. anyhow, this salad consists of boiled new potatoes, hard boiled eggs, anchovies, tuna, and some greens and tomatoes.
FOR EVERYONE'S INFORMATION!! When boiling almost anything, you should try to have like sized ingredients (match the sizes of your potatoes when boiling, a tiny one will turn to mush before a larger one gets soft, and usually boiled separately - turnips cook faster than carrots - as they will take different times despite their sizes), and you start in cold water. This allows the items being boiled to heat up at a constant temperature throughout the entire item - potato, egg, etc. Rather than throwing it in boiling water, flash cooking the outside, then overcooking it just to cook the inside. You catch me? And it doesn't take any longer than the time to boil the water. Also, reduce to a simmer after the boiling process has begun.. the water temperature pretty much remains the same.
The nicoise salad consisted of boiled eggs and potatoes, peeled, seeded tomatoes, peeled, julienned green pepper (yes peeled with a peeler, it was weird), green beans cooked a l'anglaise (boiled in really salty water then shocked in an ice bath, but contrary to my previous statement, the water should already be boiling...) In French cooking boiling/cooking veggies is usually to the point that it is tender. Al dente is too raw. But when cooking these veggies, you usually cook them separately.
(We made a different salad of cooked veggies - carrots, turnips, peas, string beans, all cut to the size of the peas, and we had to cook them individually a l'anglaise. It was a bitch, but that one was really good, we bound them together with mayo that we made and seasoned with salt and pepper.. really good)
So we cooked the peas and string beans, and broke up some romaine lettuce. Plated everything nicely [the potatoes were sliced and laid out in a ring, each slice overlapping the previous slice, with the lettuce piled on top], then topped with some anchovies and chunks of white canned tuna (in water). Dressing was drizzled on everything, though the lettuce was dressed separately by drizzling the sides of the bowl with dressing and gently tossing the salad against the sides. They should not be overdressed!!! or else they get soggy as you all know.
------ The email ended here. I'll continue with some more insight.
The first salad we made was the cooked vegetables bound together with a home made mayo. The veggies consisted of carrots, turnips, peas and string beans, all cut to macedoine size (.5 cm cubed, the string beans were not cubed, just cut to size, and the peas were... well, the size of peas) Each vegetable was cooked a l'anglaise individually because each vegetable takes a different amount of time to cook. But by cutting them to the same size, we could pretty much guarantee that within its own species, the vegetables will all be done when one cube is done.
What differentiated our cubed-vegetables-in-mayo salad from a normal something-in-mayo salad was that the veggies weren't drowning in mayo. The mayo was simply there to bind the veggies together, and for some flavoring. It did not overpower the sweetness and individuality of the vegetables, and having them in uniform sizes was pleasant to the tongue, and no vegetable stood out over the other. It was quite a nice blend.
The nicoise salad, as I mentioned in much detail, was pretty good too, though we avoided eating the anchovies. Close minded? Maybe, but we didn't need 'em. I can't recall anything too memorable besides the salads that we made, but there can't always be drama and me passing judgment on others... boring? Sure, whatever.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
eMulsification
Most people have heard the term emulsify, and know exactly what it means. Other's will just smile and nod, having heard the term, kind of understanding it, and just move right along. That used to be me. An emulsification is the binding of two liquids that don't normally combine. The greatest example: oil and water. In this class, we emulsified. We made a few sauces using the standard emulsification process... whipping that bad boy up until your arm fell off.
The usual ingredient that is used to bind is egg yolk. Egg yolk, by some miracle power of chickens, has the ability to hold up to 200mL of oil in an emulsification. We made a few sauces, particularly Mayonnaise and an orange dessert with an orange saboyan (I believe the term saboyan refers to the step before emulsifying a sauce, that is, before slowly whipping in the oil).
The mayo was SO much better than Hellman's and miracle whip. (I wonder why they call it miracle whip? Should we be eating something that must have taken a miracle to create?) It was also extremely simple. It was 1 egg yolk, some salt, some white pepper, a touch of vinegar, and then veg. oil beat into it very slowly.
My team consisted of myself and a new guy from Korea. He started in the day classes and has changed over to the evening program. I can't remember his first name(s), but I do know his last name is Lee, and I am more than happy calling him Lee for the sake of this blog. He spoke in broken English, but I could tell he was a kind person, pretty stylish, and pretty interested in food. He was also very confident in his English, and considering he has not been in the US for too long, it was pretty damn good. He was a good partner, and fun to talk to. Lee had some significant culinary experience, particularly with Japanese and Korean cuisine, which is awesome because I'd like to extract some tips from him on those. Unfortunately Grace went partnerless and had a hell of a lot of whipping to do by herself. She did a good job though.
Anyhow, the mayo was delicious. So delicious I made it again the next night to make a MEAN chicken salad. It was quite flavorful. A delicious fresh mayo can make or break the sandwich, I have come to realize. (I'll keep that in mind for my restaurant). These are the things I came to learn.
The orange dish was memorable. We had to parer a vif the oranges (method of peeling citrus fruits), and then supreme it (cut out the slices from the membranes). What a world of difference it makes when the fruit is completely free of seeds, peel, pith and membranes. The flavor is basically the same, minus some bitterness, but the effort and carelessness that goes into eating it is great. The sauce, however, was key. It was a saboyan of 3 egg yolks, some sugar, some orange liqueur and a splash of grenadine all whipped together to form a foamy froth. Then we folded in (CAREFULLY) some almond flour and mint leaves in chiffonade. (A chiffonade is simply strips of leafy herbs, or lettuce, usually rolled up like a cigar and then sliced).
After laying out the orange supremes in a beautiful pinwheel design, you nap the slices with the saboyan, and then place it under a broiler until it lightly browns. WOW. It was delicious. The oranges did not quite get hot, so they were still refreshing, and the saboyan had great flavor. The almond flour was clutch, and browning it was so good. The mint also threw in a subtle taste, but added so much. Some people topped their dish with the mint chiffonade, though the recipe called for it to be incorporated in the saboyan. I think a combination of both would have been ideal, and a little whole mint leave as a garnish.
There wasn't any drama in the class, though the one guy who missed 3 classes missed a fourth, although he had an emergency and notified the Chef. Not my call to judge, I suppose, but I don't think missing 4 of the first 7 classes is a good thing.
Next class, we do some salads. I think we only do about 3 salads and 2 or 3 dressings... in the entire 5 hours!! So I hope they're good. I assume the prep, which would normally be done way before hand, takes the most time.
As always, I'll let you know how it goes.
OH, by the way, we had a quiz, not a pop quiz. We were WELL prepared in the previous class. And I got a 100. Sweet. I hope he prepares us the same way for the next one. Though I don't really know what a number grade says for a Chef applying to a restaurant. But I'm shooting 100% right now!
The usual ingredient that is used to bind is egg yolk. Egg yolk, by some miracle power of chickens, has the ability to hold up to 200mL of oil in an emulsification. We made a few sauces, particularly Mayonnaise and an orange dessert with an orange saboyan (I believe the term saboyan refers to the step before emulsifying a sauce, that is, before slowly whipping in the oil).
The mayo was SO much better than Hellman's and miracle whip. (I wonder why they call it miracle whip? Should we be eating something that must have taken a miracle to create?) It was also extremely simple. It was 1 egg yolk, some salt, some white pepper, a touch of vinegar, and then veg. oil beat into it very slowly.
My team consisted of myself and a new guy from Korea. He started in the day classes and has changed over to the evening program. I can't remember his first name(s), but I do know his last name is Lee, and I am more than happy calling him Lee for the sake of this blog. He spoke in broken English, but I could tell he was a kind person, pretty stylish, and pretty interested in food. He was also very confident in his English, and considering he has not been in the US for too long, it was pretty damn good. He was a good partner, and fun to talk to. Lee had some significant culinary experience, particularly with Japanese and Korean cuisine, which is awesome because I'd like to extract some tips from him on those. Unfortunately Grace went partnerless and had a hell of a lot of whipping to do by herself. She did a good job though.
Anyhow, the mayo was delicious. So delicious I made it again the next night to make a MEAN chicken salad. It was quite flavorful. A delicious fresh mayo can make or break the sandwich, I have come to realize. (I'll keep that in mind for my restaurant). These are the things I came to learn.
The orange dish was memorable. We had to parer a vif the oranges (method of peeling citrus fruits), and then supreme it (cut out the slices from the membranes). What a world of difference it makes when the fruit is completely free of seeds, peel, pith and membranes. The flavor is basically the same, minus some bitterness, but the effort and carelessness that goes into eating it is great. The sauce, however, was key. It was a saboyan of 3 egg yolks, some sugar, some orange liqueur and a splash of grenadine all whipped together to form a foamy froth. Then we folded in (CAREFULLY) some almond flour and mint leaves in chiffonade. (A chiffonade is simply strips of leafy herbs, or lettuce, usually rolled up like a cigar and then sliced).
After laying out the orange supremes in a beautiful pinwheel design, you nap the slices with the saboyan, and then place it under a broiler until it lightly browns. WOW. It was delicious. The oranges did not quite get hot, so they were still refreshing, and the saboyan had great flavor. The almond flour was clutch, and browning it was so good. The mint also threw in a subtle taste, but added so much. Some people topped their dish with the mint chiffonade, though the recipe called for it to be incorporated in the saboyan. I think a combination of both would have been ideal, and a little whole mint leave as a garnish.
There wasn't any drama in the class, though the one guy who missed 3 classes missed a fourth, although he had an emergency and notified the Chef. Not my call to judge, I suppose, but I don't think missing 4 of the first 7 classes is a good thing.
Next class, we do some salads. I think we only do about 3 salads and 2 or 3 dressings... in the entire 5 hours!! So I hope they're good. I assume the prep, which would normally be done way before hand, takes the most time.
As always, I'll let you know how it goes.
OH, by the way, we had a quiz, not a pop quiz. We were WELL prepared in the previous class. And I got a 100. Sweet. I hope he prepares us the same way for the next one. Though I don't really know what a number grade says for a Chef applying to a restaurant. But I'm shooting 100% right now!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Potages
So what exactly is the difference between soup and potages? Well as Chef Tom would put it, about 10 dollars, but nothing more. Its just the French way of saying soup and the way we'll probably put it on our menus since we want to make those extra $10.
In this class we made split-pea soup, potato and leek soup (not creamy), French onion soup (go figure, but the chef primarily made it), and a consomme (a very clear broth, which you wouldn't expect to be clear with all the ground beef, veggies and egg whites you put in there).
Where to start? I guess I'll start with the one I messed up on. Apparently the consomme is a very complicated soup to get right. Its not that its that much more difficult than other soups, but it involves a delicate balance between the amount of stock or broth, amount of meat and amount of egg whites used. I messed up on the egg whites part. As I was running around looking for the egg whites (which came out of a milk carton - did not feel gourmet), I asked a fellow student how much to use. I thought they said 90 grams. I had a recipe card that said 4 egg whites (120g), but at times the Chef will adjust certain things for certain reasons. I also thought I heard the chef say we were only using 90 grams of egg whites (approximately 3 egg whites). The general rule is 3 egg whites per liter. We were using 1.5 liters of beef marmite. I only used 3. My consomme did not form the legendary raft that consommes form. I was embarrassed.
The consomme is NOT supposed to come to a boil, and after stirring and bringing the temperature up to 160-165 degrees, you're NOT supposed to stir anymore. At this point, you should be able to sit back and watch as the eggs start to foam at the top and form a raft. All the julienned veggies and cooked ground beef fuse with the raft. Its quite impressive, and quite disgusting. You wouldn't think that the clearest consomme come from such a murky chopped beef infused soup. For the ones that worked, it look quite amazing. It did not taste like anything special. Just broth. but it looked really nice. Mine never quite left the murky stage. There weren't enough egg whites to form the life saving raft. A little bit like Noah's ark. But none of the boards were nailed in place...
Chef Tom came over to me. I think he respects me, as I respect him. I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it was our discussion about me going to Vassar college. I'm not just a knucklehead who wants to learn how to cook good. But he didn't lay in on me or ask me "don't you know how to follow a recipe?!" But he explained it the way I rationalized - when you muck up, you learn. I didn't by chance get it right, I got it very wrong. We figured out why, and I'll be damned if I forget that 1 egg white = 30g, and 1L of stock gets 90g or 3 egg whites, when making consomme. I might, perhaps forget about the potato leek soup because I did not do as much work as my partner on it, but I won't forget the consomme.
So I guess the next logical soup to discuss is the potato and leek soup. It was a clear soup, made from chicken stock, with leeks and potatoes. It was surprisingly simple, and as I mentioned, I can't recall exactly what it entailed, as my partner did most of the work. But for some reason I took some home. As I put it in my fridge I was asking, why did I take this soup home? I probably won't like it as much as the pea soup. It just looks like broth with leeks and potatoes. Well I decided to take it for lunch today.. and you know.. it was quite delicious. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I will definitely make it again one day.
I think I have an infatuation with leeks. From the moment I set eyes on them, I knew that I would love them. First off, cleaning them is a b*tch! You need to wash and rewash and rewash until all the sandy dirt that it grows in, comes out. I thought I washed my leek until it was free of sand, but Chef Tom said he felt a little grit. I was unpleasantly surprised. I Really inspected it well for sand and grit. Well, I guess I have to clean it better.
We made a split-pea soup, which was phenomenal. Peas, bacon, herbs... mmmm. I wonder if anyone ground up their cheesecloth of garnish. I was considering it, because the recipe never told us to remove it, but common sense prevailed. I feel like the split-pea soup, which we have come to believe should be a thick soup, is frequently too thick. Chef Tom believes it should be a thinner soup, and I think I agree. It just makes for a more velvety feel. I look forward to eating the leftovers.
MOST IMPORTANTLY, I felt a sense of ease in the kitchen. I felt like I was in more control, despite my consomme follies, and I felt more comfortable. I was confident in my julienned veggies, in my ability to sweat and brown the veggies and bacon, taste and season the soups, confident in how thick I wanted the soups. I was happy with my measuring of ingredients, preparing my station, the soft simmer, the heavy simmer, the boiling of the stocks. Pretty much everything felt better. Am I a pro yet? No way. But am I on my way? Inevitably.
In this class we made split-pea soup, potato and leek soup (not creamy), French onion soup (go figure, but the chef primarily made it), and a consomme (a very clear broth, which you wouldn't expect to be clear with all the ground beef, veggies and egg whites you put in there).
Where to start? I guess I'll start with the one I messed up on. Apparently the consomme is a very complicated soup to get right. Its not that its that much more difficult than other soups, but it involves a delicate balance between the amount of stock or broth, amount of meat and amount of egg whites used. I messed up on the egg whites part. As I was running around looking for the egg whites (which came out of a milk carton - did not feel gourmet), I asked a fellow student how much to use. I thought they said 90 grams. I had a recipe card that said 4 egg whites (120g), but at times the Chef will adjust certain things for certain reasons. I also thought I heard the chef say we were only using 90 grams of egg whites (approximately 3 egg whites). The general rule is 3 egg whites per liter. We were using 1.5 liters of beef marmite. I only used 3. My consomme did not form the legendary raft that consommes form. I was embarrassed.
The consomme is NOT supposed to come to a boil, and after stirring and bringing the temperature up to 160-165 degrees, you're NOT supposed to stir anymore. At this point, you should be able to sit back and watch as the eggs start to foam at the top and form a raft. All the julienned veggies and cooked ground beef fuse with the raft. Its quite impressive, and quite disgusting. You wouldn't think that the clearest consomme come from such a murky chopped beef infused soup. For the ones that worked, it look quite amazing. It did not taste like anything special. Just broth. but it looked really nice. Mine never quite left the murky stage. There weren't enough egg whites to form the life saving raft. A little bit like Noah's ark. But none of the boards were nailed in place...
Chef Tom came over to me. I think he respects me, as I respect him. I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it was our discussion about me going to Vassar college. I'm not just a knucklehead who wants to learn how to cook good. But he didn't lay in on me or ask me "don't you know how to follow a recipe?!" But he explained it the way I rationalized - when you muck up, you learn. I didn't by chance get it right, I got it very wrong. We figured out why, and I'll be damned if I forget that 1 egg white = 30g, and 1L of stock gets 90g or 3 egg whites, when making consomme. I might, perhaps forget about the potato leek soup because I did not do as much work as my partner on it, but I won't forget the consomme.
So I guess the next logical soup to discuss is the potato and leek soup. It was a clear soup, made from chicken stock, with leeks and potatoes. It was surprisingly simple, and as I mentioned, I can't recall exactly what it entailed, as my partner did most of the work. But for some reason I took some home. As I put it in my fridge I was asking, why did I take this soup home? I probably won't like it as much as the pea soup. It just looks like broth with leeks and potatoes. Well I decided to take it for lunch today.. and you know.. it was quite delicious. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I will definitely make it again one day.
I think I have an infatuation with leeks. From the moment I set eyes on them, I knew that I would love them. First off, cleaning them is a b*tch! You need to wash and rewash and rewash until all the sandy dirt that it grows in, comes out. I thought I washed my leek until it was free of sand, but Chef Tom said he felt a little grit. I was unpleasantly surprised. I Really inspected it well for sand and grit. Well, I guess I have to clean it better.
We made a split-pea soup, which was phenomenal. Peas, bacon, herbs... mmmm. I wonder if anyone ground up their cheesecloth of garnish. I was considering it, because the recipe never told us to remove it, but common sense prevailed. I feel like the split-pea soup, which we have come to believe should be a thick soup, is frequently too thick. Chef Tom believes it should be a thinner soup, and I think I agree. It just makes for a more velvety feel. I look forward to eating the leftovers.
MOST IMPORTANTLY, I felt a sense of ease in the kitchen. I felt like I was in more control, despite my consomme follies, and I felt more comfortable. I was confident in my julienned veggies, in my ability to sweat and brown the veggies and bacon, taste and season the soups, confident in how thick I wanted the soups. I was happy with my measuring of ingredients, preparing my station, the soft simmer, the heavy simmer, the boiling of the stocks. Pretty much everything felt better. Am I a pro yet? No way. But am I on my way? Inevitably.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Building Blocks...
The basis of every sauce, every soup, basically every dish, is stock. And that's what we learned today. Now I'm not exactly sure if you care so much about what went into these stocks, or if you care more about what went on in class... So I'll try to give you the scoop on both.
When we got into class there were 50 lbs of veal bones, 40 lbs of beef bones, a bunch of meatless chicken carcasses, and a stack of fleshy fish skeletons waiting for us.
In a 5 hour class it would have been impossible to boil down the veal and beef stocks (the beef stock we were making was called "marmite" (mar-meet), which is also the name of the big stock pot). So we prepared the marmite and veal stock as far as we could without boiling them down. We browned vegetables, blackened some onions (literally burnt the cut half of onions on the flat top), and combined the ingredients as if we were going to boil/simmer them, but did not.
The veal bones needed to be roasted and browned in a little oil for a few minutes in the convection oven. There was a little meat still left on the bones, and the smell coming out of that oven was unbearably delicious.
Moving right along to the juicy stuff... there were only 8 of us in class that day. So by class three, 1 person has missed two classes, another has missed only one. After two missed classes, you need to make up a bunch of stuff. I am under the impression that the one guy who has missed two of the first three classes has given up on it. I have no commentary on the girl who missed one... though its not a good start.
Also, by this time, everyone is opening up a bit, communicating with one another, taking cigarette breaks after dinner type of stuff. The other day I accompanied one of the guys on a cigarette break. I didn't have a cigarette but I figured I'd join for the conversation, considering he did invite me. It was pretty much "guy" talk, but by no means intellectual or school/cooking related. On some levels it was interesting because it was a peek at some behind the scenes info on these guys' lives, but on the other hand it was just bullshit. I smiled and chimed in where necessary, but lets face it, I didn't have anything to contribute.
In my humble opinion, a cigarette break is a personal, intimate session between you, your cigarette and the surrounding atmosphere that you normally don't take a minute to observe. As a non-smoker, I can appreciate the value of having something to do while you're waiting for someone. Rather than standing there awkwardly, looking sketchy, you're instead standing there having a cigarette and just relaxing. Needless to say, I don't think I'll be taking many more cigarette breaks with my classmates.
Further, by now one can also start to develop their prejudices/likings against/for some of their fellow classmates. For instance, the girl (woman?) who was on the receiving end of splattered fish guts probably won't openly dislike the girl who sprayed her, but more than likely will have something against her from now on. I, too, have my own thoughts developing. This one guy, who I think is a couple of years younger than I am, just runs his mouth about things that really don't matter to anyone but him. One of these topics being how some ex-girlfriend of his called him 30+ times and left 15+ messages, until finally he gave the phone to a girl who was visiting his roommates, and she started making sex noises and said "he's busy f*cking me right now." Not classroom appropriate, and, well, quite immature and uninteresting. I know a thing or two about immature... but I usually like to infuse humor into my immature behavior.
Oh, so as we were getting started on one of our first stocks, we were in a group of 4 and immediately people were cutting and peeling and browning. No one took a moment to step back and measure anything. It was incredible! I was in awe over how 4 people went off independently without a plan. I took a moment to gather our thoughts and let everyone know that we need to measure things. After we put together a plan, everything went fairly smoothly.
We only made fish stock, chicken stock and vegetable stock entirely. These stocks take less time to cook due to the size of the bones. You can only extract so much flavor from these smaller bones. However, in the heat of making everything, I only managed to taste the vegetable stock, and I barely caught it before we threw it out. Apparently vegetable stock, as delicious as it smelled, is the least used stock. Veal/beef and chicken being the most used. And considering we don't add too much spice, including zero salt, the vegetable stock wasn't very good. But I can see how it could be good if reduced and spiced better.
It is noteworthy to mention that none of the stocks we prepared included salt. Stocks should be relatively clear, fat and grease free liquids. These stocks are the foundations of sauces that we will be making, which are usually reduced, and adding salt in the stock phase would concentrate that salty flavor for the sauce, which could be bad.
Another no-no, which I realized Friday night is salting meats that are braising or reducing in a liquid (in my case, wine). I was making some improvised beef bergundy and salted the beef and wine pretty well. Besides the slightly over salty taste in the end, I successfully sucked out all of the liquid from the beef. Rooky mistake. I learned my lesson. Salt is perhaps the most important seasonings in the culinary world, but it is also quite dangerous, and should be utilized carefully.
When we got into class there were 50 lbs of veal bones, 40 lbs of beef bones, a bunch of meatless chicken carcasses, and a stack of fleshy fish skeletons waiting for us.
In a 5 hour class it would have been impossible to boil down the veal and beef stocks (the beef stock we were making was called "marmite" (mar-meet), which is also the name of the big stock pot). So we prepared the marmite and veal stock as far as we could without boiling them down. We browned vegetables, blackened some onions (literally burnt the cut half of onions on the flat top), and combined the ingredients as if we were going to boil/simmer them, but did not.
The veal bones needed to be roasted and browned in a little oil for a few minutes in the convection oven. There was a little meat still left on the bones, and the smell coming out of that oven was unbearably delicious.
Moving right along to the juicy stuff... there were only 8 of us in class that day. So by class three, 1 person has missed two classes, another has missed only one. After two missed classes, you need to make up a bunch of stuff. I am under the impression that the one guy who has missed two of the first three classes has given up on it. I have no commentary on the girl who missed one... though its not a good start.
Also, by this time, everyone is opening up a bit, communicating with one another, taking cigarette breaks after dinner type of stuff. The other day I accompanied one of the guys on a cigarette break. I didn't have a cigarette but I figured I'd join for the conversation, considering he did invite me. It was pretty much "guy" talk, but by no means intellectual or school/cooking related. On some levels it was interesting because it was a peek at some behind the scenes info on these guys' lives, but on the other hand it was just bullshit. I smiled and chimed in where necessary, but lets face it, I didn't have anything to contribute.
In my humble opinion, a cigarette break is a personal, intimate session between you, your cigarette and the surrounding atmosphere that you normally don't take a minute to observe. As a non-smoker, I can appreciate the value of having something to do while you're waiting for someone. Rather than standing there awkwardly, looking sketchy, you're instead standing there having a cigarette and just relaxing. Needless to say, I don't think I'll be taking many more cigarette breaks with my classmates.
Further, by now one can also start to develop their prejudices/likings against/for some of their fellow classmates. For instance, the girl (woman?) who was on the receiving end of splattered fish guts probably won't openly dislike the girl who sprayed her, but more than likely will have something against her from now on. I, too, have my own thoughts developing. This one guy, who I think is a couple of years younger than I am, just runs his mouth about things that really don't matter to anyone but him. One of these topics being how some ex-girlfriend of his called him 30+ times and left 15+ messages, until finally he gave the phone to a girl who was visiting his roommates, and she started making sex noises and said "he's busy f*cking me right now." Not classroom appropriate, and, well, quite immature and uninteresting. I know a thing or two about immature... but I usually like to infuse humor into my immature behavior.
Oh, so as we were getting started on one of our first stocks, we were in a group of 4 and immediately people were cutting and peeling and browning. No one took a moment to step back and measure anything. It was incredible! I was in awe over how 4 people went off independently without a plan. I took a moment to gather our thoughts and let everyone know that we need to measure things. After we put together a plan, everything went fairly smoothly.
We only made fish stock, chicken stock and vegetable stock entirely. These stocks take less time to cook due to the size of the bones. You can only extract so much flavor from these smaller bones. However, in the heat of making everything, I only managed to taste the vegetable stock, and I barely caught it before we threw it out. Apparently vegetable stock, as delicious as it smelled, is the least used stock. Veal/beef and chicken being the most used. And considering we don't add too much spice, including zero salt, the vegetable stock wasn't very good. But I can see how it could be good if reduced and spiced better.
It is noteworthy to mention that none of the stocks we prepared included salt. Stocks should be relatively clear, fat and grease free liquids. These stocks are the foundations of sauces that we will be making, which are usually reduced, and adding salt in the stock phase would concentrate that salty flavor for the sauce, which could be bad.
Another no-no, which I realized Friday night is salting meats that are braising or reducing in a liquid (in my case, wine). I was making some improvised beef bergundy and salted the beef and wine pretty well. Besides the slightly over salty taste in the end, I successfully sucked out all of the liquid from the beef. Rooky mistake. I learned my lesson. Salt is perhaps the most important seasonings in the culinary world, but it is also quite dangerous, and should be utilized carefully.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Ooh, that's naaasty...
As I was studying for the upcoming lesson, I took note that there was no Lesson 2. Our books (bound photocopied sheets of paper in a 3 ring binder) did not skip pages, but it skipped lessons. How could this be? I figured I should just study the upcoming lesson. I read all about the foundation of French cooking. Stocks. Brown stocks, white stocks, fish stocks, vegetable stocks, and so forth. I took detailed notes and wrote down the recipes. I also reviewed some of Lesson 1, and I called it a night.
The reason we were missing lesson 2 from our books was because we were about to receive an entirely new book. It was the SafeServ food handling bible. And we were about to have an entire lesson on it.
Luckily enough, our chef, certified to teach this course, was full of charisma and made what could have been a boring hands-off lecture into a fun few hours.
I am having a hard time remembering his name, but I think it was Chef Tim (I won't try to remember his last name). He had his salt and pepper hair cut short, and a penetrating smile that looked like it could have been found on the cover of the American Dental Association annual publication (does this exist?). He had wide eyes and a booming voice that rose over the hum of the ventilation hoods. Apparently he was a personal chef for a few Hollywood celebrities, one of which he mentioned, though I will not disclose this information on the internet (he was probably violating his fiduciary duties in mentioning it to us... which was what made him more interesting, and according to that logic, not telling you makes this blog less juicy, oh well).
In brief, Bacteria is nasty, and so is the biproducts and viruses and all those other nasty things that can grow on food and make our poop turn into soup. I'm under the impression that they really want us to understand that proper food handling is a very real part of running a successful kitchen. I got it.
Oh, and its okay to eat spinach again. Especially if you cook it. At least I'm prepared for the next lesson.
The reason we were missing lesson 2 from our books was because we were about to receive an entirely new book. It was the SafeServ food handling bible. And we were about to have an entire lesson on it.
Luckily enough, our chef, certified to teach this course, was full of charisma and made what could have been a boring hands-off lecture into a fun few hours.
I am having a hard time remembering his name, but I think it was Chef Tim (I won't try to remember his last name). He had his salt and pepper hair cut short, and a penetrating smile that looked like it could have been found on the cover of the American Dental Association annual publication (does this exist?). He had wide eyes and a booming voice that rose over the hum of the ventilation hoods. Apparently he was a personal chef for a few Hollywood celebrities, one of which he mentioned, though I will not disclose this information on the internet (he was probably violating his fiduciary duties in mentioning it to us... which was what made him more interesting, and according to that logic, not telling you makes this blog less juicy, oh well).
In brief, Bacteria is nasty, and so is the biproducts and viruses and all those other nasty things that can grow on food and make our poop turn into soup. I'm under the impression that they really want us to understand that proper food handling is a very real part of running a successful kitchen. I got it.
Oh, and its okay to eat spinach again. Especially if you cook it. At least I'm prepared for the next lesson.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Lesson 1 - French on French Action
Keep it in your pants. The only French on French action was our French chef explaining certain cutting techniques with their French names, in a French accent. It was pretty intimidating to say the least. Comical to say the most.
Before we jump ahead to the lesson, I arrived a bit earlier than suggested to ensure that my financial aid issues were taken care of. They were. I officially went into debt $30,000+. Whatever, right? I just have to convince my friends to buy me drinks from now on. No more crazy nights where I can't explain how I ran up $250 on my credit card. We're talking Pabst Blue Ribbon specials all night. I think its time to make an investment in a flask. I've seen an awesome cell phone looking flask which may be pretty practical. I think my roommate, Ian, owns it.
Anyways, I received my kit (clothing only, so far) with a "loaner" chef's jacket. I need to be sure to clean it, and return it like new. I definitely got some tomato gut on one sleeve. I'm not quite sure how well that comes out. But I will get it out. (hopefully my precious girlfriend knows a thing or two about this). I go into the locker room, and I explore my kit... The locker room is quite small, with some large men, not necessarily fat, but just grown men, on every bench getting dressed. In my kit, there are a few sets of pants, checkered.. stylish, a few triangle shaped handkerchiefs (neckerchiefs), some aprons, and these white rigid cheese cloth looking rags, which I'm still not exactly sure what they're for, though I did wear it at my side like a rag, but I don't think it was one.
The pants and jacket were easy. but the neckerchief... well, that was awkward. You basically roll this triangular kerchief into a thin tie, and then, apparently, you tie it like a tie. Its a little tacky, but so be it. Roll the apron up a little, tie it around your waist, and you're pretty much ready to go... and quite professional looking too. Oh, you also have to wear thick black leather shoes/boots, which I was fortunate enough to have just received (thanks dad, I bet you didn't think I'd end up needing those all-weather boots for the kitchen).
We're greeted by an admin person, wait on everyone to arrive in full chef attire, and make our way to our kitchen class room. This is it. Here we go.
I'm not exactly sure how to write with a French accent, but Chef Rogers (Ro-zhay) was definitely French. He said he was born in the Bronx, and raised in Paris... ("believe it or not"). I don't know if I've chosen to believe him yet. I did meet him on my tour the other day, and he does/did play rugby, which we discussed for a minute, and maybe that will give me some braising points (I'd say brownie if I was in the pastry program).
We chose a station with bags already resting on the countertops. In these bags were the tools of the trade. I will give a rundown of what I remember, but it would be more beneficial to show a picture.
There were the knives: chef's, paring, bread, meat knife (not a butcher knife), a loooong rounded end with grooves knife (slicing?), and filleting knife. Two whisks, a few spatulas, a dope pair of scissors, thermometer, pastry bag and tips, a looong needle with a hole at the end, um... a scooping ball maker, a chef's fork, and I'm sure many other things. $400 worth of equipment in a nice little bag. Its official now.
Man, I wish I took notes because there was a lot to digest. Besides the main lesson, there were little snippits of facts that he threw out in his French accent that I would have liked to have written down, but I didn't want to go and get my cards for notes. I hope to remember them as the need arises, but knowing me, I doubt it. Some of those snippits included the way you set up your station (3 metal bowls, one for cleaned unpeeled, pre-cut veggies, one for peels and scraps, and the last for the peeled, cut veggies. Note - They collect large CLEAN scraps for stocks and such, but they better be clean. And they have a compost bin for the rest)
Another note worthy snippit was when you boil something like a tomato to peel it, you must SHOCK it in ice water. First you boil it for NO MORE than 15 seconds, and second, you don't let it sit in the water for more than it takes to shock it (less than a minute). And I'm sure there were plenty of other things I should have written down.
Anyhow, the bulk of the lesson was on how you should look, a little bit of safety (when walking behind someone with a pot of scalding water you say something like "hot pot behind [, fooh]"), and most importantly, about 12 or 13 different types of cuts.
These cuts all had french names, which were barely comprehendible with Chef Rogers' French accent. Good thing our other Chef, Chef Wanda, born and raised in NY (wha-what?!), was writing some of these terms down and pronouncing them a little clearer. Thank you Chef Wanda.
The cuts ranged from slicing onion and shallots, cubing turnips, Julienne-ing carrots, Chiffinade-ing cabbage, and so forth. Some of them were easier to remember than others. As soon as I have time, I will take pics of everything, label the cuts with their proper names, and explain them.
The most important thing, however, is that these cuts should be consistent. When something should be .5 of a cm... it should be .5 of a cm. 1-2mm should be 1-2mm. Besides presentation, it ensures that when cooking for 5 minutes or so, they are all evenly cooked. None is more or less raw/firm than the other. Consistency, guys. Consistency. I know you don't need me to tell you this, but hey, its what I was told.
I must say, carrots are a BITCH! I never had as much trouble cutting a carrot as I did last night. We had to Julienne them, then cut some of the julienned pieces into little tiny 1mm by 1mm pieces. Out of a decent sized carrot, I got 1 good rectangular slice, about 4 or 5 good julienned pieces and from scraps I was able to get about 10-15 perfect little cubes. The chef didn't need to know that I got this little amount from a huge carrot, but its clearly something I'd like to fix.
I was working with a partner, somewhat. We were at the same station, and had our own cutting boards and Vegetables. Basically it was a partner to talk to. We helped eachother remember a few things, but mostly we chit chatted. Grace was from Bayside Queens and I believe she was a bit older than me, but had the asian youth look going on. She was pretty cool, and she made for a good partner, at the very least for the conversation. It was also nice to get to know my classmates a bit better. We do have 9 months ahead of us.
Well, Thursday is our next lesson. I'm doing a good job on these blogs (I think). I hope someone reads them?! But at the very least, I guess its a journal for my adventure.
By the way, we have a test in one week from Saturday. That blows. But bring it. This is better than any class I ever took in college (except maybe the fundamentals of conditioning) , so I will be prepared.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Lets Get Oriented..
Let me start by saying I am confused by this blog stuff. Sometimes I get a nice window to type my entry, other times I get a simple text box that has no formatting options. I guess I just gotta get over it.
So I got in a few minutes late. The stupid train (I love you, train) took forever to come. When the lady got to the part on lateness she was talking to me the whole time. But that's ok. I missed the most important part. A couple of chefs were talking to the class of 10. I was number 9. At least I even showed up.
First impressions... well, obviously, I'm late. I feel like a jerk, so I walk to the back of the room to take a seat quietly. But everyone from admin wants to talk to me. They want to take my picture, take care of financial aid stuff, ask for this and that. MEANWHILE people are addressing the class. I tried to insist that I should sit down and we can discuss it after. But they insisted that I address them immediately. Just makes me more of an asshole for being late.
We did a quick round the room introduction. I don't know why my heart started to beat quicker as they approached me. Why should I be nervous? These are my peers. I was also last to talk. So I had 8 other people to listen to, analyze, try to comprehend, and think about my response. The memorable ones are the ones you can a) hear in the first place, and b) tell you something interesting. There are only ten people, so the names will be easy (though I can only recall a couple right now). It looked like 2 of the 3 girls were right out of high school. I know one was for sure, she said so. I will refrain from describing denomination and shapes and sizes because, quite frankly, that's not important. But I will say, this isn't orientation to Vassar College. These aren't bright high schoolers with the only thing running through their heads being thoughts of how to get one of their classmates in bed, or "wow, that girl in my freshman group is really cute, I'd like to get to know her." Some of these people are more educated than others, older and wiser than others, with more or less people skills. Some people have traveled from Las Vegas and Pennsylvania, others from Staten Island and Queens.
We needed to say our names, where we're from and our favorite dish to cook and why we're here. I believe I said "Hi, I'm Edwin. I grew up about 20 minutes down Grand Street (pointing down the wrong block, I think). In college I worked in a deli and I made this grilled roast beef sandwich which was really delicious. All my friends loved it. Then I experimented with better cuts of meat and the sandwich just got much better, so I hope to make it the best sandwich ever.."
Corny, perhaps.. got a few chuckles when I mentioned how the better cuts of meat made it a better sandwich. But my heart immediately stopped racing, and I was able to focus.
I'll leave out the dry bits, which was basically the rest of the orientation, however, everyone had a black FCI duffle bag in front of their seat. I figured because I was late and walked straight to the back, mine was somewhere else. Not quite. Because I signed up last minute, and my loan had not been approved yet, they pretend that I'm not really signed up. Didn't get a bag, but did get to talk to a bunch of people about how I was going to pay, and why my loan doesn't show up on their administration sites... etc. I spent an extra hour with various admin, concluding that I needed to make some phone calls and figure some things out myself.
Luckily I have figured these things out, and everything is being processed. I think they will let me in the class tonight.
I am now in the hole for $33,500 bones, at a stifling, $600-$700 a month for the first 9 months, then $300-$400 for the next 10 to 20 years.
I did not sign up for that, I didn't think. I guess I did. I'll let you know how class goes tonight.
So I got in a few minutes late. The stupid train (I love you, train) took forever to come. When the lady got to the part on lateness she was talking to me the whole time. But that's ok. I missed the most important part. A couple of chefs were talking to the class of 10. I was number 9. At least I even showed up.
First impressions... well, obviously, I'm late. I feel like a jerk, so I walk to the back of the room to take a seat quietly. But everyone from admin wants to talk to me. They want to take my picture, take care of financial aid stuff, ask for this and that. MEANWHILE people are addressing the class. I tried to insist that I should sit down and we can discuss it after. But they insisted that I address them immediately. Just makes me more of an asshole for being late.
We did a quick round the room introduction. I don't know why my heart started to beat quicker as they approached me. Why should I be nervous? These are my peers. I was also last to talk. So I had 8 other people to listen to, analyze, try to comprehend, and think about my response. The memorable ones are the ones you can a) hear in the first place, and b) tell you something interesting. There are only ten people, so the names will be easy (though I can only recall a couple right now). It looked like 2 of the 3 girls were right out of high school. I know one was for sure, she said so. I will refrain from describing denomination and shapes and sizes because, quite frankly, that's not important. But I will say, this isn't orientation to Vassar College. These aren't bright high schoolers with the only thing running through their heads being thoughts of how to get one of their classmates in bed, or "wow, that girl in my freshman group is really cute, I'd like to get to know her." Some of these people are more educated than others, older and wiser than others, with more or less people skills. Some people have traveled from Las Vegas and Pennsylvania, others from Staten Island and Queens.
We needed to say our names, where we're from and our favorite dish to cook and why we're here. I believe I said "Hi, I'm Edwin. I grew up about 20 minutes down Grand Street (pointing down the wrong block, I think). In college I worked in a deli and I made this grilled roast beef sandwich which was really delicious. All my friends loved it. Then I experimented with better cuts of meat and the sandwich just got much better, so I hope to make it the best sandwich ever.."
Corny, perhaps.. got a few chuckles when I mentioned how the better cuts of meat made it a better sandwich. But my heart immediately stopped racing, and I was able to focus.
I'll leave out the dry bits, which was basically the rest of the orientation, however, everyone had a black FCI duffle bag in front of their seat. I figured because I was late and walked straight to the back, mine was somewhere else. Not quite. Because I signed up last minute, and my loan had not been approved yet, they pretend that I'm not really signed up. Didn't get a bag, but did get to talk to a bunch of people about how I was going to pay, and why my loan doesn't show up on their administration sites... etc. I spent an extra hour with various admin, concluding that I needed to make some phone calls and figure some things out myself.
Luckily I have figured these things out, and everything is being processed. I think they will let me in the class tonight.
I am now in the hole for $33,500 bones, at a stifling, $600-$700 a month for the first 9 months, then $300-$400 for the next 10 to 20 years.
I did not sign up for that, I didn't think. I guess I did. I'll let you know how class goes tonight.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Testing, one, two...
Like I said, I want to post about more than just food.
Before I've even showed up for orientation I find myself on the 11th floor of 50 Court Street, in Downtown Brooklyn. There is a clinic for pre-job/school disease and drug testing. I (they) needed to make sure that I did not have Tuberculosis or Hepatitis A.
I find myself sitting, and waiting, again. But this time its a little different. There are mostly ethnic woman, and most of them have little cups in their hands. I'm sure you can put two and two together without my spelling it out four you. (haha?) They were there for drug testing for their new jobs, and I was there for some blood work. After passing out for about 20 minutes with my head cocked back and mouth wide open (I wasn't going to see any of these people ever again, I hope), my name was called. "EDWARD CITRON!" The glory of being named Edwin Cintron is getting your name butchered in any way possible. The most common is Edward and Edmund, with an occsional Evan and e-win. Cintron is most commonly mistaken for Citron and Clinton. I've come to accept them all.
I pay my $45, cash only, and enter a room with a young hispanic lady. probably my same age(ish). She skillfully finds a juicy vein in my arm, and with a few opening and closings of the fist we fill up two vials with my luscious burgundy life juice.
Then I need a TB test. This, as I'm sure you know, consists of a slight injection under the skin of TB testing juice. Not sure of what it is, but it starts as a little bubble of liquid that soon dissipates under the skin. In 48 hours you need to return to have a doctor tell you that you don't have TB. I don't have TB.
I was supposed to have orientation on that same day (Friday August 17th), but I received a call telling me it was moved to Monday, the 20th. I had taken a day off from work for nothing. Though I did make the best of, I would have liked to have saved it.
We also need a pair of "chef shoes." These are black, thick leather shoes/boots, with rubber soles. My dad just gave me an extra pair that he had about 2 weeks ago. Maybe that was was a sign that I'm doing the right thing. I haven't worn them yet, but I don't feel like spending another 50+ dollars. I hope they're comfortable for the almost 6 hours I will be standing every night of class. I'm sure I'll let you know if they are.
Orientation is at 3:00PM today. I think I receive my culinary tools, locker assignment and I'll get to meet my peers and some other important people that will accompany me on my journey. I'm sure no one will miss me at work, but I will try to keep it under 2 hours. I'm skipping my lunch break to try and make up for it.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Before I've even showed up for orientation I find myself on the 11th floor of 50 Court Street, in Downtown Brooklyn. There is a clinic for pre-job/school disease and drug testing. I (they) needed to make sure that I did not have Tuberculosis or Hepatitis A.
I find myself sitting, and waiting, again. But this time its a little different. There are mostly ethnic woman, and most of them have little cups in their hands. I'm sure you can put two and two together without my spelling it out four you. (haha?) They were there for drug testing for their new jobs, and I was there for some blood work. After passing out for about 20 minutes with my head cocked back and mouth wide open (I wasn't going to see any of these people ever again, I hope), my name was called. "EDWARD CITRON!" The glory of being named Edwin Cintron is getting your name butchered in any way possible. The most common is Edward and Edmund, with an occsional Evan and e-win. Cintron is most commonly mistaken for Citron and Clinton. I've come to accept them all.
I pay my $45, cash only, and enter a room with a young hispanic lady. probably my same age(ish). She skillfully finds a juicy vein in my arm, and with a few opening and closings of the fist we fill up two vials with my luscious burgundy life juice.
Then I need a TB test. This, as I'm sure you know, consists of a slight injection under the skin of TB testing juice. Not sure of what it is, but it starts as a little bubble of liquid that soon dissipates under the skin. In 48 hours you need to return to have a doctor tell you that you don't have TB. I don't have TB.
I was supposed to have orientation on that same day (Friday August 17th), but I received a call telling me it was moved to Monday, the 20th. I had taken a day off from work for nothing. Though I did make the best of, I would have liked to have saved it.
We also need a pair of "chef shoes." These are black, thick leather shoes/boots, with rubber soles. My dad just gave me an extra pair that he had about 2 weeks ago. Maybe that was was a sign that I'm doing the right thing. I haven't worn them yet, but I don't feel like spending another 50+ dollars. I hope they're comfortable for the almost 6 hours I will be standing every night of class. I'm sure I'll let you know if they are.
Orientation is at 3:00PM today. I think I receive my culinary tools, locker assignment and I'll get to meet my peers and some other important people that will accompany me on my journey. I'm sure no one will miss me at work, but I will try to keep it under 2 hours. I'm skipping my lunch break to try and make up for it.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Tour de la Cocina
I have already signed up and put in my deposit. Upon receipt of my $500 dollars I received a call from the guys at FCI. Much like college I have jumped into something without even taking a tour of the facilities, without meeting anyone and confirming this was the path to take. Impulsive behavior perhaps. So why not join me on my post-enrollment, pre-attendance tour.
So it turns out the school is located in downtown Manhattan. A block away from Little Italy, right on the fringe of Chinatown. I am familiar with the neighborhood, Chinatown really, and after scoping out the place, and realizing I had some time, I decided to get a snack. Perhaps my favorite Chinese dim sum-esque treat is the roast pork bun (char siu bao - I pronounce it tash ooh bao). One of those puppy's and I'm ready.
I get Up to the 4th floor and I find myself waiting. Across from me is a middle aged couple. The wife is the one who is interested in attending. I didn't catch which program they were interested in. By the pastel colored sweaters draped over their shoulders, it was apparent that they were retired, or the woman was a stay at home wife/mother whose kids had long finished college, and she was looking for something to do with her time and her husband's money. Her husband seemed uninterested in the whole thing.
There was a guy to my left, he looked Hispanic, in his late 30's and a few tattoos peeking from under his rolled up sleeves. I didn't get a good look at him so I'm unable to make up a story that sounds fitting. My tour guide was in the process of showing a younger kid with his mother (I'm 24, so I'm allowed to call anyone taking a tour with their mother a "kid".. unless its a tour of a nursing home, which could be a different blog when I'm a bit older. Just kidding mom, I'll have a cell in the basement waiting.. um, still kidding, mom.) He did take a second to greet me in the middle of his tour with this kid (and his mother), and congratulated me on making the decision to attend FCI. Before we go any further, I just want to state, he was extremely friendly, and made a career move himself into the culinary world, and working at the FCI office. I look forward to hanging out with him sometime and just kicking back, he was that kind of guy.
So after the youngin took off and said goodbye to me and wished me luck, a very friendly kid, whose mother seemed very supportive, though the financial situation seemed to be a major issue (as it is with me), Cris met with me. We signed a few papers, tried on a few chef's jackets for size, and we were off on the tour. I must say a white, double breasted chef's jacket looked quite charming on me.
The tour started with a walk-by of the Italian culinary course kitchen. There were a few suckling pigs resting on the counters. I can't imagine what they were about to do to those pigs. But I sure wanted to taste it. The Italian program, so I was told, consists of half the time learning the culinary techniques of the Italians, including some time learning the language, and half the time in Italy, immersed in non-English cooking lessons and internships. Wow. Intense. Maybe when I have another $35,000 to spend.
A little guy with a biiig hat was walking down the hall. His name was Chef Guido (Cris addressed all the Chefs by their proper title "Chef," as did all the students). I'm not sure if that was a joke, but I think it might have been his real last name. He had an Italian accent and took a minute to talk to me. It was a brief friendly hello, and off he went into the Italian kitchen.
As an aside, I was assured that my evening class was going to be quite an experience. Not just because I'm in it, but because my particular class will be about 10 people small, and there will be about 3 chefs per class. Further, evening classes include many professionals, who are also making the transition into the culinary world. There will be a certain maturity, though I'm sure I will be the one to lower the bar, and we will be able to receive a lot of attention, which is quite exciting.
Anyhow, the next station was the first station I will be starting in. These students have been there for less than a month. I saw a roundish piece of parchment paper in front of each student with a piece of fish, looked like bass by the stripes on the flesh, and some julienned vegetables being placed on top. I noticed some students' carrots were thicker or thinner than others. I wonder which was correct, and which would taste better, or which texture would go better with the fish. This is what I want to learn.
After this station, we passed the pastry chefs. BOY DID IT SMELL GOOD! Cris pulled out a tray of some earlier creations by the class. There were a number of chocolates lined up and one row of chocolate dipped brittle. I had one of those. It was quite tasty. Next we walked by an empty class except for two Chefs planning a lesson. Cris asked if he could steal a baguette. With a smile and an "of course" I was bestowed with a fresh warm baguette. (I managed to not eat it on the tour, but the minute I got into the subway I went to town. It was one of the best baguettes I've ever had. I haven't been to France, and I don't eat baguettes all the time, so yes, one of the best I've ever had. Apparently I will learn how to make those.)
We learn how to make a bunch of fresh breads in the Classic French class. It adds value to a chef if you can make your own bread, so they say.
We passed by another station. This was the 2nd third of the course. Students were in small groups at different stations and were being timed. Their plates would be critiqued for temperature, appearance and flavor, of course. We met the French chef in charge of that class. A statuesque man who was pretty young and pretty cool. Turns out he played rugby for 10 years in France, and we had a 1 minute conversation about it. I also played in college, and I play in Brooklyn's Prospect Park on Sundays. He will be one of my teachers, which is good news. However, as soon as he walked into the kitchen he shouts "10 minutes, lets go guys."
These guys mean business. They are friendly and approachable, but when they're in the kitchen, teaching you how to master the skills of cuisine, they are professionals.
Let me also take this moment to mention that from the moment I started my tour, there was positive energy oozing out of ever crevice of the building. All the students were smiling. Serious, but smiling. The chefs were encouraging and serious, but smiling. Each chef took a second to talk to me. These were not professors of law, or colleges. They weren't snoody know it alls. They were culinary masters. Professional, knowledgeable chefs. They were getting paid to pass on the skills and techniques that they themselves mastered and loved. I was realizing that I made the right move.
One of the last stops of my tour was L'Ecole. The kitchen which you spend the last third of your experience in. You actually cook for the restaurant. Being in a class of 10, we will have our work cut out for us. Some serious cooking for a serious restaurant. I was trying to stay out of the way. After all this is a serious, professional kitchen. The Chefs were friendly, and willing to talk, but they had things to do. It was 11:45 by that point. No one was there for lunch. but I am aware that it would pick up. But more importantly, people are definitely there for dinner. I will be cooking for them. Dinner at L'Ecole is not a quick bite, but a serious affair. I can't wait.
But the highlight of the trip, or what I foresee as what might be the highlight of my journey, is that the students prepared lunch for everyone who was there. Not only the customers, but the other students, the chefs, the administration. Everyone. Everyday. 300+ meals are prepared. Why is this the highlight? Not only will I be preparing these meals at some point, but I will also be EATING these meals. During dinner time. Everyday! Need I say more?
So it turns out the school is located in downtown Manhattan. A block away from Little Italy, right on the fringe of Chinatown. I am familiar with the neighborhood, Chinatown really, and after scoping out the place, and realizing I had some time, I decided to get a snack. Perhaps my favorite Chinese dim sum-esque treat is the roast pork bun (char siu bao - I pronounce it tash ooh bao). One of those puppy's and I'm ready.
I get Up to the 4th floor and I find myself waiting. Across from me is a middle aged couple. The wife is the one who is interested in attending. I didn't catch which program they were interested in. By the pastel colored sweaters draped over their shoulders, it was apparent that they were retired, or the woman was a stay at home wife/mother whose kids had long finished college, and she was looking for something to do with her time and her husband's money. Her husband seemed uninterested in the whole thing.
There was a guy to my left, he looked Hispanic, in his late 30's and a few tattoos peeking from under his rolled up sleeves. I didn't get a good look at him so I'm unable to make up a story that sounds fitting. My tour guide was in the process of showing a younger kid with his mother (I'm 24, so I'm allowed to call anyone taking a tour with their mother a "kid".. unless its a tour of a nursing home, which could be a different blog when I'm a bit older. Just kidding mom, I'll have a cell in the basement waiting.. um, still kidding, mom.) He did take a second to greet me in the middle of his tour with this kid (and his mother), and congratulated me on making the decision to attend FCI. Before we go any further, I just want to state, he was extremely friendly, and made a career move himself into the culinary world, and working at the FCI office. I look forward to hanging out with him sometime and just kicking back, he was that kind of guy.
So after the youngin took off and said goodbye to me and wished me luck, a very friendly kid, whose mother seemed very supportive, though the financial situation seemed to be a major issue (as it is with me), Cris met with me. We signed a few papers, tried on a few chef's jackets for size, and we were off on the tour. I must say a white, double breasted chef's jacket looked quite charming on me.
The tour started with a walk-by of the Italian culinary course kitchen. There were a few suckling pigs resting on the counters. I can't imagine what they were about to do to those pigs. But I sure wanted to taste it. The Italian program, so I was told, consists of half the time learning the culinary techniques of the Italians, including some time learning the language, and half the time in Italy, immersed in non-English cooking lessons and internships. Wow. Intense. Maybe when I have another $35,000 to spend.
A little guy with a biiig hat was walking down the hall. His name was Chef Guido (Cris addressed all the Chefs by their proper title "Chef," as did all the students). I'm not sure if that was a joke, but I think it might have been his real last name. He had an Italian accent and took a minute to talk to me. It was a brief friendly hello, and off he went into the Italian kitchen.
As an aside, I was assured that my evening class was going to be quite an experience. Not just because I'm in it, but because my particular class will be about 10 people small, and there will be about 3 chefs per class. Further, evening classes include many professionals, who are also making the transition into the culinary world. There will be a certain maturity, though I'm sure I will be the one to lower the bar, and we will be able to receive a lot of attention, which is quite exciting.
Anyhow, the next station was the first station I will be starting in. These students have been there for less than a month. I saw a roundish piece of parchment paper in front of each student with a piece of fish, looked like bass by the stripes on the flesh, and some julienned vegetables being placed on top. I noticed some students' carrots were thicker or thinner than others. I wonder which was correct, and which would taste better, or which texture would go better with the fish. This is what I want to learn.
After this station, we passed the pastry chefs. BOY DID IT SMELL GOOD! Cris pulled out a tray of some earlier creations by the class. There were a number of chocolates lined up and one row of chocolate dipped brittle. I had one of those. It was quite tasty. Next we walked by an empty class except for two Chefs planning a lesson. Cris asked if he could steal a baguette. With a smile and an "of course" I was bestowed with a fresh warm baguette. (I managed to not eat it on the tour, but the minute I got into the subway I went to town. It was one of the best baguettes I've ever had. I haven't been to France, and I don't eat baguettes all the time, so yes, one of the best I've ever had. Apparently I will learn how to make those.)
We learn how to make a bunch of fresh breads in the Classic French class. It adds value to a chef if you can make your own bread, so they say.
We passed by another station. This was the 2nd third of the course. Students were in small groups at different stations and were being timed. Their plates would be critiqued for temperature, appearance and flavor, of course. We met the French chef in charge of that class. A statuesque man who was pretty young and pretty cool. Turns out he played rugby for 10 years in France, and we had a 1 minute conversation about it. I also played in college, and I play in Brooklyn's Prospect Park on Sundays. He will be one of my teachers, which is good news. However, as soon as he walked into the kitchen he shouts "10 minutes, lets go guys."
These guys mean business. They are friendly and approachable, but when they're in the kitchen, teaching you how to master the skills of cuisine, they are professionals.
Let me also take this moment to mention that from the moment I started my tour, there was positive energy oozing out of ever crevice of the building. All the students were smiling. Serious, but smiling. The chefs were encouraging and serious, but smiling. Each chef took a second to talk to me. These were not professors of law, or colleges. They weren't snoody know it alls. They were culinary masters. Professional, knowledgeable chefs. They were getting paid to pass on the skills and techniques that they themselves mastered and loved. I was realizing that I made the right move.
One of the last stops of my tour was L'Ecole. The kitchen which you spend the last third of your experience in. You actually cook for the restaurant. Being in a class of 10, we will have our work cut out for us. Some serious cooking for a serious restaurant. I was trying to stay out of the way. After all this is a serious, professional kitchen. The Chefs were friendly, and willing to talk, but they had things to do. It was 11:45 by that point. No one was there for lunch. but I am aware that it would pick up. But more importantly, people are definitely there for dinner. I will be cooking for them. Dinner at L'Ecole is not a quick bite, but a serious affair. I can't wait.
But the highlight of the trip, or what I foresee as what might be the highlight of my journey, is that the students prepared lunch for everyone who was there. Not only the customers, but the other students, the chefs, the administration. Everyone. Everyday. 300+ meals are prepared. Why is this the highlight? Not only will I be preparing these meals at some point, but I will also be EATING these meals. During dinner time. Everyday! Need I say more?
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Enrollment to the French Culinary Institute
Its 5:30P - I just started this blog... I'm itching to leave work. Hopefully this isn't a sign of laziness to come for this blog. (foreshadowing, symbolism... as Jorge would say)
I enrolled in the French Culinary Institute today. I start on Tuesday August 21, 2007. I haven't really discussed this major investment with any of my friends or family. Its quite impulsive. But I think its the right choice.
My intentions for this blog are to not discuss the pleasures and exquisite tastes of food, which I will inevitably do anyways, but instead to take you on this adventure, this $34,000+ adventure, that I'm going on, which will perhaps one day take me somewhere. A little direction in a, so far, fairly boring paralegal lifestyle.
I'm not exactly sure if I will tell my roomates, or just come home late on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday nights. Ugh, did I really sign away my saturday nights for the next 9 months? Is that the right spirit? Well, I AM excited about this.. I wish I knew HTML... I'd put AM in italics. I guess that's something I need to figure out being a new owner of a blog.
Some logistics.. I plan on writing when I have some significant input, preferably after a class, before a class... while I'm practicing something new... who knows. I hope this becomes interesting and more than just my friends read it (after I make them read it). I will try to explain inside jokes (for instance when I referenced Jorge in this post, he is one of my friends who likes to point out anything in a movie, whether or not it has relevance, and claim that it is "symbolism," then we mock him with a heavy latin american/spanish accent, since he is a fuzzy little ecuadorian.)
I guess you'll learn more about me as we go. And I'll try not to drag on like this first extremely interesting and eventful post.
see ya fools.
I enrolled in the French Culinary Institute today. I start on Tuesday August 21, 2007. I haven't really discussed this major investment with any of my friends or family. Its quite impulsive. But I think its the right choice.
My intentions for this blog are to not discuss the pleasures and exquisite tastes of food, which I will inevitably do anyways, but instead to take you on this adventure, this $34,000+ adventure, that I'm going on, which will perhaps one day take me somewhere. A little direction in a, so far, fairly boring paralegal lifestyle.
I'm not exactly sure if I will tell my roomates, or just come home late on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday nights. Ugh, did I really sign away my saturday nights for the next 9 months? Is that the right spirit? Well, I AM excited about this.. I wish I knew HTML... I'd put AM in italics. I guess that's something I need to figure out being a new owner of a blog.
Some logistics.. I plan on writing when I have some significant input, preferably after a class, before a class... while I'm practicing something new... who knows. I hope this becomes interesting and more than just my friends read it (after I make them read it). I will try to explain inside jokes (for instance when I referenced Jorge in this post, he is one of my friends who likes to point out anything in a movie, whether or not it has relevance, and claim that it is "symbolism," then we mock him with a heavy latin american/spanish accent, since he is a fuzzy little ecuadorian.)
I guess you'll learn more about me as we go. And I'll try not to drag on like this first extremely interesting and eventful post.
see ya fools.
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