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.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
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!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Preserving goods
This was our Saturday class, and quite frankly I don't recall everything we did. I do know that we burned a couple of the dishes, and yet, we got away with one of them.
The general idea is that there are different methods and ingredients used to preserve foods. One method which was demo'ed for us was gravlax. Salting the a fillet of salmon for a few hours (I believe we did it for a few days), and then rubbing in your alcohol of choice and preserving.
Another was the confit. We salted duck legs for a couple of days (maybe too long, but since we didn't have class between Saturday and Tuesday, it had to do), then we cooked it submerged in its own fat. It cooked at a very low temperature for a few hours. We didn't taste it, but we will for the next class.
Most importantly, we prepared a couple of vegetables "a la greque." Its preserving the food with an acid, in this case lemon juice and a little vinegar, I believe. We burned the cauliflower pretty badly, but when it was time to taste it we took only the most perfect fleurettes (least burned, and cut off the burnt parts) and plated them for the Chef to taste. Sure enough, he LOVED it! Perfect texture, and the cauliflower was seasoned pretty well. The mushroom and zucchini were almost as good as the cauliflower, according to the Chef. I broke down in laughter when I returned to my desk...
Unfortunately, we burned the tomato fondue too badly to disguise. The fondue requires enough tomato to cover the pan, however, we did not compensate for lost mass when we removed the seeds and some of the liquid in the middle. Although the mixture DID taste delicious, it was not the proper dish. Fondue means melt. The tomatoes are literally supposed to melt to a near mush. Quite interesting. A low and slow cooking process. Ours was pretty darn low, but it still burned.
Also, apparently the guy who I counted out, with 3 absences, showed up. He was very sick, and had a pretty nasty cough that probably shouldn't have been in the kitchen. I was glad to see he stuck with it though.
The general idea is that there are different methods and ingredients used to preserve foods. One method which was demo'ed for us was gravlax. Salting the a fillet of salmon for a few hours (I believe we did it for a few days), and then rubbing in your alcohol of choice and preserving.
Another was the confit. We salted duck legs for a couple of days (maybe too long, but since we didn't have class between Saturday and Tuesday, it had to do), then we cooked it submerged in its own fat. It cooked at a very low temperature for a few hours. We didn't taste it, but we will for the next class.
Most importantly, we prepared a couple of vegetables "a la greque." Its preserving the food with an acid, in this case lemon juice and a little vinegar, I believe. We burned the cauliflower pretty badly, but when it was time to taste it we took only the most perfect fleurettes (least burned, and cut off the burnt parts) and plated them for the Chef to taste. Sure enough, he LOVED it! Perfect texture, and the cauliflower was seasoned pretty well. The mushroom and zucchini were almost as good as the cauliflower, according to the Chef. I broke down in laughter when I returned to my desk...
Unfortunately, we burned the tomato fondue too badly to disguise. The fondue requires enough tomato to cover the pan, however, we did not compensate for lost mass when we removed the seeds and some of the liquid in the middle. Although the mixture DID taste delicious, it was not the proper dish. Fondue means melt. The tomatoes are literally supposed to melt to a near mush. Quite interesting. A low and slow cooking process. Ours was pretty darn low, but it still burned.
Also, apparently the guy who I counted out, with 3 absences, showed up. He was very sick, and had a pretty nasty cough that probably shouldn't have been in the kitchen. I was glad to see he stuck with it though.
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.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Like Butter..
It feels like we're starting off pretty slow, but the reality of it is, by class 4, we have made the foundation of all of our cuisine (stocks - fonds), and have reduced those to a few different sauces. We made 6 sauces yesterday. Let me try to recount all of them...
-Sauce Espagnole (with bacon, mmm)
-Fond de Veau Lie (reduced, bound veal stock)
-Sauce Bechamel (reduced milk with a roux liaison)
-Sauce Vin Blanc (white wine and fish stock, a little heavy cream)
-Sauce Au Porto (port wine reduction with orange and lemon juices and fond de veau lie)
-Chateaubriand aux Champignones (wine, mushrooms, flames and sauce espagnole)
How's that for information retention? (I have verified with my recipes and I was mostly correct)
As the title of this post hints, it feels like the real foundation of these sauces is beurre (butter). At least 50-100 grams. And I feel like this will be a recurring theme in class. A lot of recipes begin with butter, include more butter and end with butter. I have to be careful with my taste testing, or the butter is going to reinforce my hips.
I learned a few of things aside from how to make these recipes. The first is, do NOT deviate from the recipe! The sauce bechamel is a creamy sauce that calls for a pinch (a tiny pinch) of cayenne pepper (as described, the amount that you can scoop up on the tip of your paring knife). Not knowing that Chef Tom was going to taste and critique each sauce, my partner and I thought a little more cayenne pepper would be the way to go. No no no. We are in culinary school to learn the classics. When we're done, or when we're at home, then we can deviate from the recipe and "kick it up a notch" (Does Emeril have the rights to that phrase?)
Next, my "factory edged knife" really is not sharp, and will take a lot more sharpening. Chef Tim(from the food handling class) attempted to grind away on it, but I have come to believe that it's still not sharp enough. So I only assume that when I use my steel (the long metal stick-on-a-handle) I am taking a dull edge and returning it to a previously dull edge.
And, by Level 3 we will be a lot more confident and familiar with the kitchen. George has proven this to me. Although he may be currently working in a real kitchen, and he may have a background in the kitchen, he was very confident. George is a level 3 student, who was making up a class from level 1. He is 21 (or turning 21... pretty young?!) and has decided to hone in on his culinary skills. Most importantly, he was my partner. This was a mixed blessing.
I say this because he was great as a partner since he knew what he was doing, and has made these sauces in further levels, despite missing the first lesson on them. He was good with the knife, and quick. Unfortunately, he was a little too quick. While I was running around the kitchen, looking for ingredients, he collected pretty much everything else, peeled and chopped things, and was already adding them to pots and pans. He was courteous and understood that I was a beginner, and he kept me in the loop as he did or was doing things, but I felt like I wanted to do more of it and be more hands on. He also was guiding and directing me, rather than being blind and clueless like I was. But he did show me that soon, I, too, will be quicker, more confident and know where everything is. Hey, this is only class four.
Speaking of which, I am sure that the one guy who has now missed 3 classes, is no longer taking the class, and the girl who missed one class was here. Still not a great start. I also found out that the test that we will be having on Saturday will be a 15 question multiple choice test. Not too shabby. No reason to not do well.
George, however, was only on level 3. He was by no means a chef, and our final results, which were usually considered final at his discretion ("Edwin, do you think this is done" "Um, sure?" "Yeah, me too"), were by no means great. All but our bechamel did pass final inspection, but the consistencies weren't all up to par. Sauces, stocks and glazes are all different. A sauce is not a gravy. It should be thick, but not too thick. I was getting conflicting feedback from the Chef. Some sauces were too thick, others were too thin. Flavoring was usually good (a bit on the salty side, but good). However, be sure you adjust final flavoring AFTER reduction is complete. You can put salt in but you can't take it out.)
Further development: I'm developing a few calluses on my fingers. I know one was from whisking the bechamel non-stop, and the other is where I hold the knife. I am transforming. Oh, I also need to mark my knives and other tools with nail polish so no one steals them. I am going to do some fun pattern if I can find the time. Maybe some crazy liger pattern. It might give my knives some magical attributes, and they'll cut the vegetables without my help.
As a final word, I'd like to refer back to interactions with my classmates. I sure hope none of them read this until at least 9 months from now, as it hints at (read: clearly states) certain feelings that I shouldn't be sharing publicly. Anyhow, the divide widens. I'm not sure if I'm here for a change of careers, or because I'm following my heart. If I did know, I would say so. I have been looking at food with a bit more scrutiny now, though that slightly dry store-made roasted chicken was still delicious. But as we were changing in the locker room, we had a diluted conversation about why exactly we were in this locker room. One reason offered was because college didn't quite work out. Its hard to argue against that when perhaps college did not work out for them. I will inevitably be taking a pay cut when I delve into cooking full time. College has taken me to decent paying, professional jobs with a lot of options (if I choose to take them). Not to mention the life friends I've made, the girl I met, my rugby team brethren and the level of maturity that it may have given me. In fact, it may have made me too mature for the machismo that usually infiltrates the kitchen (so I hear.. or maybe my girlfriend has done that to me ;), though I won't necessarily count it out if in the right company. I offered instead that perhaps graduate schools didn't work for us, as in we won't take it to that level to make the millions. Maybe that's more of my case. Who knows? Maybe after culinary school you'll see me start up the CLAA (Culinary Lawyers of America Association). Who knows (though I strongly doubt it).
-Sauce Espagnole (with bacon, mmm)
-Fond de Veau Lie (reduced, bound veal stock)
-Sauce Bechamel (reduced milk with a roux liaison)
-Sauce Vin Blanc (white wine and fish stock, a little heavy cream)
-Sauce Au Porto (port wine reduction with orange and lemon juices and fond de veau lie)
-Chateaubriand aux Champignones (wine, mushrooms, flames and sauce espagnole)
How's that for information retention? (I have verified with my recipes and I was mostly correct)
As the title of this post hints, it feels like the real foundation of these sauces is beurre (butter). At least 50-100 grams. And I feel like this will be a recurring theme in class. A lot of recipes begin with butter, include more butter and end with butter. I have to be careful with my taste testing, or the butter is going to reinforce my hips.
I learned a few of things aside from how to make these recipes. The first is, do NOT deviate from the recipe! The sauce bechamel is a creamy sauce that calls for a pinch (a tiny pinch) of cayenne pepper (as described, the amount that you can scoop up on the tip of your paring knife). Not knowing that Chef Tom was going to taste and critique each sauce, my partner and I thought a little more cayenne pepper would be the way to go. No no no. We are in culinary school to learn the classics. When we're done, or when we're at home, then we can deviate from the recipe and "kick it up a notch" (Does Emeril have the rights to that phrase?)
Next, my "factory edged knife" really is not sharp, and will take a lot more sharpening. Chef Tim(from the food handling class) attempted to grind away on it, but I have come to believe that it's still not sharp enough. So I only assume that when I use my steel (the long metal stick-on-a-handle) I am taking a dull edge and returning it to a previously dull edge.
And, by Level 3 we will be a lot more confident and familiar with the kitchen. George has proven this to me. Although he may be currently working in a real kitchen, and he may have a background in the kitchen, he was very confident. George is a level 3 student, who was making up a class from level 1. He is 21 (or turning 21... pretty young?!) and has decided to hone in on his culinary skills. Most importantly, he was my partner. This was a mixed blessing.
I say this because he was great as a partner since he knew what he was doing, and has made these sauces in further levels, despite missing the first lesson on them. He was good with the knife, and quick. Unfortunately, he was a little too quick. While I was running around the kitchen, looking for ingredients, he collected pretty much everything else, peeled and chopped things, and was already adding them to pots and pans. He was courteous and understood that I was a beginner, and he kept me in the loop as he did or was doing things, but I felt like I wanted to do more of it and be more hands on. He also was guiding and directing me, rather than being blind and clueless like I was. But he did show me that soon, I, too, will be quicker, more confident and know where everything is. Hey, this is only class four.
Speaking of which, I am sure that the one guy who has now missed 3 classes, is no longer taking the class, and the girl who missed one class was here. Still not a great start. I also found out that the test that we will be having on Saturday will be a 15 question multiple choice test. Not too shabby. No reason to not do well.
George, however, was only on level 3. He was by no means a chef, and our final results, which were usually considered final at his discretion ("Edwin, do you think this is done" "Um, sure?" "Yeah, me too"), were by no means great. All but our bechamel did pass final inspection, but the consistencies weren't all up to par. Sauces, stocks and glazes are all different. A sauce is not a gravy. It should be thick, but not too thick. I was getting conflicting feedback from the Chef. Some sauces were too thick, others were too thin. Flavoring was usually good (a bit on the salty side, but good). However, be sure you adjust final flavoring AFTER reduction is complete. You can put salt in but you can't take it out.)
Further development: I'm developing a few calluses on my fingers. I know one was from whisking the bechamel non-stop, and the other is where I hold the knife. I am transforming. Oh, I also need to mark my knives and other tools with nail polish so no one steals them. I am going to do some fun pattern if I can find the time. Maybe some crazy liger pattern. It might give my knives some magical attributes, and they'll cut the vegetables without my help.
As a final word, I'd like to refer back to interactions with my classmates. I sure hope none of them read this until at least 9 months from now, as it hints at (read: clearly states) certain feelings that I shouldn't be sharing publicly. Anyhow, the divide widens. I'm not sure if I'm here for a change of careers, or because I'm following my heart. If I did know, I would say so. I have been looking at food with a bit more scrutiny now, though that slightly dry store-made roasted chicken was still delicious. But as we were changing in the locker room, we had a diluted conversation about why exactly we were in this locker room. One reason offered was because college didn't quite work out. Its hard to argue against that when perhaps college did not work out for them. I will inevitably be taking a pay cut when I delve into cooking full time. College has taken me to decent paying, professional jobs with a lot of options (if I choose to take them). Not to mention the life friends I've made, the girl I met, my rugby team brethren and the level of maturity that it may have given me. In fact, it may have made me too mature for the machismo that usually infiltrates the kitchen (so I hear.. or maybe my girlfriend has done that to me ;), though I won't necessarily count it out if in the right company. I offered instead that perhaps graduate schools didn't work for us, as in we won't take it to that level to make the millions. Maybe that's more of my case. Who knows? Maybe after culinary school you'll see me start up the CLAA (Culinary Lawyers of America Association). Who knows (though I strongly doubt it).
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Debt Update
Not sure if you all care, or if this has become a personal journal, but my loan has been officially approved, and they are waiting for word from the school that I am enrolled. Apparently the school confirmed, so its pretty much official that I go to the French Culinary Institute, and I am in a massive amount of debt. Ooooh right.
Tonight we do a few basic sauces. Six, to be exact, and one of them invlovles bacon. Mmmm.... bacon.
Tonight we do a few basic sauces. Six, to be exact, and one of them invlovles bacon. Mmmm.... bacon.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)