Week trois: things I will never make!
As in most educational settings, you begin by learning easy things to build confidence, to get to know your teachers, classmates & learn general rules. Then you start to actually do stuff. LCB is no exception, and in our third week (or is it four?), we have made chocolate eclairs, are about to make veal stuffed with veal, pork and three different kinds of fat, and watched a duck terrine be prepared. All are things I will likely never make again. (Unless you really want me to make you eclairs…I could be talked into that.)
Yesterday morning, we watched the chef prepare chocolate eclairs and a few other recipes that use choux pastry. When it was our turn to make them, we were asked to prepare only seven, and I was honestly surprised at how much work those little things take! Choux pastry, no big deal. But then you pipe out your eclairs, eggwash them, score them with a fork, bake. Prepare the pastry cream, let it cool. Melt your chocolate with cocoa paste in a hot water bath, then add chocolate to pastry cream and pipe into your cooked choux pastry. Melt fondant (which is a whole other ordeal to make) into chocolate with red food coloring and top the cream-filled pastry and voila, you have an eclair. And the chef in our practical class said they have to be roughly the width of a hotdog bun. Really? To me that's too much of everything! Too big, too sweet, ick!
To add cream to the clogged artery…we watched the adorable Basque chef prepare pounded veal stuffed with, veal, three different kinds of pork, goose fat and cream. Oh-and mushrooms and shallots to get some veg in there! Then chef pulls out these huge sheets of pork fat…and hangs it across his back to demonstrate where they shave the huge slices off the pig. He cuts the sheet into one-inch strips and wraps them around the packets of veal to hold them together and add flavor in cooking. Then, braises them in veal stock (which takes about 4 hours to prepare in itself). Had I not seen how it was made, I am sure I would have enjoyed a few bites of this dish. But, I've never purchased large sheets of pork lard…and I'm happy to keep it that way, so this won't be going into me personal recipe repertoire!
Then, as the veal was braising in the oven, he began preparing the duck terrine. Basically a big loaf of duck meat, and of course wrapped in sheets of pork fat! The poor chef dutifully demonstrated how to make this antiquated delicacy with sauteed duck breast, ground duck leg meat, ground chicken & duck livers, prunes…and I'm to even sure what else (half way through I stopped taking notes). To top it all off he mixed milk with gelatin and poured a thin layer into a large silver platter. "Zis is not for eating, it is jus for presentation," he explained. Once the duck loaf is baked for four hours, and sits overnight with weights on top of it, it's unmolded, peeled of it's outer layer of pork fat and sliced. Those slices are arranged on the white milk jelly…because that makes it more appetizing?
Again I say, poor chef. He makes this dish that none of us are interested in making, and he knows it…but he does it with ease and a professional pride. He started by butchering a whole duck beautifully, and then moved through the dish relatively quickly, knowing he didn't have to be slow for us to keep up. Its like watching an artist paint, a math whiz breeze through an equation, or a virtuoso perform…it's just fun to watch someone do what they are good at. So, even on the days I don't want to taste a loaf of duck on a bed of gelatinous milk…I take comfort in the fact that I get to watch a master chef doing his craft.
As for the eclairs, I realize they are a staple in any French patisserie. They are yummy (when petite) and I am glad I have made them. It definitely made me appreciate all the little pastry shops that churn them out day after day. There's a lot of elements going on in those little guys, and it takes a lot of care to make them beautiful.
Many things take a lot of work, and I am happy to do it. But if you were hoping for a duck terrine in your future…sorry, not from my kitchen : ) I will be happy to prepare the salmon we made earlier this week. As chef said, "the girlz love zee salmon!"
Tomorrow, bright and early it's my turn to make the veal stuffed veal. I should get some rest!
Bon nuit!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I am so sorry for the delay in posts, but I am thrilled to report that I am all moved and finally have internet!! I've been going to school, school and more school, started French class…and I have made and tried some delicious things!
Oh--I apologize for all of the following recipes using the ingredient measurements by weight. But, honestly, using a scale for baking will give you much more consistent results. So run to Williams-Sonoma and get cooking!
Quiche Lorraine Pour Ma Mère
My mother made Quiche Lorraine when I was a little girl for some shower or ladies lunch…and I remember thinking it was delicious. It has been made many times since, but it always makes me think of her. We ate this the last day before moving into my new apartment, and it was delicious. Light and buttery crust, creamy filling and crispy bite of pancetta. Yum. Mom can make this now because of her own LCB schooling…so, if you scared by this long recipe, ask her for a demo ; )
Fun fact: Quiche Lorraine comes from Lorraine (curious, i know), the region of France that has flip-flopped between German and French rule. The word "quiche" is thought to derive from the German word for cake, kuchen.
Short pastry
200 grams flour (plus extra for rolling out the dough)
100 g unsalted butter (plus extra for greasing the tart pan)
5 g salt
1 egg
2 T water
Filling
180 g of smoked, slab bacon (thick cut pancetta would be the best to use)
100 g gruyere or ementaller cheese
olive oil
3 eggs
250 ml cream (weighs 250 grams)
salt & pepper
nutmeg
Preheat your oven to 350-deg. Grease a scalloped tart pan (like this one) by brushing it with melted butter, and put in the fridge.
Prepare your short pastry:
Two a large bowl, add flour, salt and cold cubed butter. Mix with your hands ("sablage") to get the mixture looking similar to sand. Be careful not to overmix or warm the butter too much. (A good thing to do before you start mixing is to run your hands under cold water for a few seconds. It helps keep the butter cold.)
When your butter/flour mixture is ready, add one whole egg & water. Pierce the yolk and "mix with one finger," as Chef Cottes would say, until just combined. "Why mix with one finger…because then you only have to clean off one finger," he explains. Turn the mixture out onto your cold counter--it will still be crumbly.
Take the heel of your hand and, little by little, push the dough away from you ("fresage"). This is not kneading, you're pushing it in little bits away from you and leaving it in a pile (not bringing it back each time). Use a plastic pastry scraper to bring the dough back to a ball in front of you, and repeat once or twice. This method works the gluten in the flour the least, and makes your crust flaky and delicious. If it scares you, just mix as gently as you can in the bowl…but trust me, it's easy and well worth it. After your dough is ready, ball it up, wrap it in plastic film and put in the lowest part of your fridge to rest.
Now, begin the filling:
Slice your pancetta into small chunks, about 1/3" cubes. It will slice easiest when cold. Then place them into a pot of cold water. Put the pot over high heat, and bring up to a boil. Just when the water gets to a good boil, remove from heat and strain. This is not to cook, just to remove any impurities (all the foam you will see) and any over-smoky or over-salty flavor. Leave the pancetta in the strainer over the pot while you prepare your cheese.
Grate your cheese. After it's grated, run your knife over the shredded cheese so it's finely minced. This will help it melt better according to certain chefs…others, would say add the pre-shredded stuff out of the bag. Your choice!
Back to your pancetta…heat a sauté pan with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil on medium-high. Add your pancetta cubes and cook until you get a nice coloring (as much or little as you like). Keep your strainer & pot there, because when the pancetta is the color you like, put it right back in the strainer and let the extra fat/oil drain off.
Flour your counter, get out your rolling pin, dough & tart mold.
Roll out your dough so it's about 2" larger than your tart mold all around. When ready, carefully roll the dough up around your rolling pin and unroll it over the tart mold. Gently fit the dough to the sides of the tart pan without stretching the dough or pushing it into the form too much. When it lays inside nicely, roll your rolling pin over the top of the mold to cut off the excess dough. Now, push the dough into the sides of the tart pan so it stands up a bit and takes on the shape of the pretty scalloped edge.
Blind bake your crust: To make sure it doesn't shrink, line your crust with heat-proof plastic film, thin aluminum foil or parchment paper, and fill with pie weights (like these). Bake for 10-15 minutes, or just so the crust can stand up on it's own.
While it's baking, whisk together eggs, cream, salt, pepper and a bit of fresh grated nutmeg. Set aside.
When your crust is blind baked, remove the pie weights and plastic film/foil/paper. Put in the pancetta, sprinkle the cheese over, and pour in the egg/cream mixture just to the top. (Do not let it spill over the side of the crust or it will stick to the pan and look ugly when it's baked. You not use all of the egg/cream.)
Bake for 20-ish minutes. Just until the center is fully cooked (test with the point of a knife) and the bottom of the crust is golden. Let set for a few minutes, and remove from the pan. Slice & serve with a delicious salad!
With this method, you can use any sort of filling you like. If you would like to use any meat or vegetables, just make sure they're cooked and drained first so the quiche doesn't get soggy.
Choux Pastry for the Shoe Lover
Another dish that reminds me of being a little girl is my grandmother's cream puffs. She would make them for my Aunt Marie's birthday dessert with vanilla ice cream and Saunder's hot fudge. As Ina Garten would say, "how bad can that be!?" At LCB, the dough is called "choux" pastry, which to us Americans sounds like shoe pastry. So, Marie…choux for you next time I see you and…well, there's plenty of shoe shopping in Paris ; )
Choux Pastry
125 ml milk (ml measure out equal to grams)
125 ml water
100 g unsalted butter
5 g salt
15 g sugar
150 g flour
4 eggs
Piping bag with a 12mm tip
(1 egg for egg wash if you like)
Preheat the oven to 340-deg. Line baking sheet with parchment paper with a mini-magnet at each corner to hold in place.
To a large saucepan, add milk, water, butter, salt & sugar. Bring just to a boil to melt all ingredients together, stirring the whole time. Remove from heat and pour in flour all at once. Stir in the flour (don't use a whisk), and put back on heat for a few seconds at a time to cook out some of the liquid. It should steam a bit, but be careful not to let the bottom of the pan color. Once smooth, transfer dough into a large bowl. One at a time, mix in the eggs.
Fit your piping bag with the pastry tip, and fill the bag about half way. Pipe out the puffs to the desired size. Make sure to leave enough room on the pan for them to puff. You can whisk one egg together to brush it on the puffs if you would like them to have a bit more color and shine, but it's not necessary.
Put the pan in the middle of the oven. After about 10 minutes, turn the heat down to 325-deg. Bake for about 10 more minutes, checking the whole time. Take out when they are golden brown and transfer to a rack to cool. (Each oven is different, and it also depends on the size of the puffs. The first time babysit them a bit, and make a note of how long until they were done.)
When cool, slice in half, fill with ice cream and top with caramel, chocolate, fruit, nuts, or whatever you like. You can also make a small hole in the side to pipe in chantilly cream, pastry cream, or fruit filling...simply dip in chocolate…even plain they taste pretty good ; )
Bonus: Choux pastry is meant to be eaten the same day it's baked. To make in advance, do everything above, including pipe out each puff onto the parchment paper…but instead of putting them in the oven, you can put the pan into the freezer. After a few hours, when the dough is frozen all the way through, put them in a ziplock and store for up to 3 months. When ready to bake, put them back onto a parchment lined baking sheet, let them thaw and bake just as you would before. I haven't tested this--but the chefs said it's how bakeries can keep up with having extra pastry prepared for busy times of the year like Christmas. Voila!
Coming up this week we have eclairs and meringue in pastry, grilled salmon (with an emulsified butter sauce of course!) and stuffed veal in cuisine. Yes, veal stuffed with veal, 3 different kinds pork, goose fat and a dash of cream for good measure. Needless to say, fewer homeless on the streets of Paris will be hungry that night!
Bisous!
LZ
Oh--I apologize for all of the following recipes using the ingredient measurements by weight. But, honestly, using a scale for baking will give you much more consistent results. So run to Williams-Sonoma and get cooking!
Quiche Lorraine Pour Ma Mère
My mother made Quiche Lorraine when I was a little girl for some shower or ladies lunch…and I remember thinking it was delicious. It has been made many times since, but it always makes me think of her. We ate this the last day before moving into my new apartment, and it was delicious. Light and buttery crust, creamy filling and crispy bite of pancetta. Yum. Mom can make this now because of her own LCB schooling…so, if you scared by this long recipe, ask her for a demo ; )
Fun fact: Quiche Lorraine comes from Lorraine (curious, i know), the region of France that has flip-flopped between German and French rule. The word "quiche" is thought to derive from the German word for cake, kuchen.
Short pastry
200 grams flour (plus extra for rolling out the dough)
100 g unsalted butter (plus extra for greasing the tart pan)
5 g salt
1 egg
2 T water
Filling
180 g of smoked, slab bacon (thick cut pancetta would be the best to use)
100 g gruyere or ementaller cheese
olive oil
3 eggs
250 ml cream (weighs 250 grams)
salt & pepper
nutmeg
Preheat your oven to 350-deg. Grease a scalloped tart pan (like this one) by brushing it with melted butter, and put in the fridge.
Prepare your short pastry:
Two a large bowl, add flour, salt and cold cubed butter. Mix with your hands ("sablage") to get the mixture looking similar to sand. Be careful not to overmix or warm the butter too much. (A good thing to do before you start mixing is to run your hands under cold water for a few seconds. It helps keep the butter cold.)
When your butter/flour mixture is ready, add one whole egg & water. Pierce the yolk and "mix with one finger," as Chef Cottes would say, until just combined. "Why mix with one finger…because then you only have to clean off one finger," he explains. Turn the mixture out onto your cold counter--it will still be crumbly.
Take the heel of your hand and, little by little, push the dough away from you ("fresage"). This is not kneading, you're pushing it in little bits away from you and leaving it in a pile (not bringing it back each time). Use a plastic pastry scraper to bring the dough back to a ball in front of you, and repeat once or twice. This method works the gluten in the flour the least, and makes your crust flaky and delicious. If it scares you, just mix as gently as you can in the bowl…but trust me, it's easy and well worth it. After your dough is ready, ball it up, wrap it in plastic film and put in the lowest part of your fridge to rest.
Now, begin the filling:
Slice your pancetta into small chunks, about 1/3" cubes. It will slice easiest when cold. Then place them into a pot of cold water. Put the pot over high heat, and bring up to a boil. Just when the water gets to a good boil, remove from heat and strain. This is not to cook, just to remove any impurities (all the foam you will see) and any over-smoky or over-salty flavor. Leave the pancetta in the strainer over the pot while you prepare your cheese.
Grate your cheese. After it's grated, run your knife over the shredded cheese so it's finely minced. This will help it melt better according to certain chefs…others, would say add the pre-shredded stuff out of the bag. Your choice!
Back to your pancetta…heat a sauté pan with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil on medium-high. Add your pancetta cubes and cook until you get a nice coloring (as much or little as you like). Keep your strainer & pot there, because when the pancetta is the color you like, put it right back in the strainer and let the extra fat/oil drain off.
Flour your counter, get out your rolling pin, dough & tart mold.
Roll out your dough so it's about 2" larger than your tart mold all around. When ready, carefully roll the dough up around your rolling pin and unroll it over the tart mold. Gently fit the dough to the sides of the tart pan without stretching the dough or pushing it into the form too much. When it lays inside nicely, roll your rolling pin over the top of the mold to cut off the excess dough. Now, push the dough into the sides of the tart pan so it stands up a bit and takes on the shape of the pretty scalloped edge.
Blind bake your crust: To make sure it doesn't shrink, line your crust with heat-proof plastic film, thin aluminum foil or parchment paper, and fill with pie weights (like these). Bake for 10-15 minutes, or just so the crust can stand up on it's own.
While it's baking, whisk together eggs, cream, salt, pepper and a bit of fresh grated nutmeg. Set aside.
When your crust is blind baked, remove the pie weights and plastic film/foil/paper. Put in the pancetta, sprinkle the cheese over, and pour in the egg/cream mixture just to the top. (Do not let it spill over the side of the crust or it will stick to the pan and look ugly when it's baked. You not use all of the egg/cream.)
Bake for 20-ish minutes. Just until the center is fully cooked (test with the point of a knife) and the bottom of the crust is golden. Let set for a few minutes, and remove from the pan. Slice & serve with a delicious salad!
With this method, you can use any sort of filling you like. If you would like to use any meat or vegetables, just make sure they're cooked and drained first so the quiche doesn't get soggy.
Choux Pastry for the Shoe Lover
Another dish that reminds me of being a little girl is my grandmother's cream puffs. She would make them for my Aunt Marie's birthday dessert with vanilla ice cream and Saunder's hot fudge. As Ina Garten would say, "how bad can that be!?" At LCB, the dough is called "choux" pastry, which to us Americans sounds like shoe pastry. So, Marie…choux for you next time I see you and…well, there's plenty of shoe shopping in Paris ; )
Choux Pastry
125 ml milk (ml measure out equal to grams)
125 ml water
100 g unsalted butter
5 g salt
15 g sugar
150 g flour
4 eggs
Piping bag with a 12mm tip
(1 egg for egg wash if you like)
Preheat the oven to 340-deg. Line baking sheet with parchment paper with a mini-magnet at each corner to hold in place.
To a large saucepan, add milk, water, butter, salt & sugar. Bring just to a boil to melt all ingredients together, stirring the whole time. Remove from heat and pour in flour all at once. Stir in the flour (don't use a whisk), and put back on heat for a few seconds at a time to cook out some of the liquid. It should steam a bit, but be careful not to let the bottom of the pan color. Once smooth, transfer dough into a large bowl. One at a time, mix in the eggs.
Fit your piping bag with the pastry tip, and fill the bag about half way. Pipe out the puffs to the desired size. Make sure to leave enough room on the pan for them to puff. You can whisk one egg together to brush it on the puffs if you would like them to have a bit more color and shine, but it's not necessary.
Put the pan in the middle of the oven. After about 10 minutes, turn the heat down to 325-deg. Bake for about 10 more minutes, checking the whole time. Take out when they are golden brown and transfer to a rack to cool. (Each oven is different, and it also depends on the size of the puffs. The first time babysit them a bit, and make a note of how long until they were done.)
When cool, slice in half, fill with ice cream and top with caramel, chocolate, fruit, nuts, or whatever you like. You can also make a small hole in the side to pipe in chantilly cream, pastry cream, or fruit filling...simply dip in chocolate…even plain they taste pretty good ; )
Bonus: Choux pastry is meant to be eaten the same day it's baked. To make in advance, do everything above, including pipe out each puff onto the parchment paper…but instead of putting them in the oven, you can put the pan into the freezer. After a few hours, when the dough is frozen all the way through, put them in a ziplock and store for up to 3 months. When ready to bake, put them back onto a parchment lined baking sheet, let them thaw and bake just as you would before. I haven't tested this--but the chefs said it's how bakeries can keep up with having extra pastry prepared for busy times of the year like Christmas. Voila!
Coming up this week we have eclairs and meringue in pastry, grilled salmon (with an emulsified butter sauce of course!) and stuffed veal in cuisine. Yes, veal stuffed with veal, 3 different kinds pork, goose fat and a dash of cream for good measure. Needless to say, fewer homeless on the streets of Paris will be hungry that night!
Bisous!
LZ
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Suspense.
It starts when you are little and you are waiting for recess or Christmas morning. As you get older, it's checking the mail for your college acceptance letter or your first (legal) drink on your 21st birthday. When your twenty-six and going to culinary school in Paris…it seems as if finding an apartment is almost impossible. Almost.
We (and by "we" I mean mostly my mother) have searched the city high and low to find a furnished apartment that meets basic needs…internet access, an oven, non-smoking…you know, heat is good. Well, it turns out that's a tall order. Apparently, Parisians don't cook much at home, because most apartments are sans-oven. Many are nowhere near school, but mostly, a lot of places weren't so spic-and-span. That is, until yesterday, when the clouds parted…
A beautiful, newly renovated and…wait for it…never before rented (huge selling point for a OCD germaphobe like me) one-bedroom with an oven came into my life. As usual, I was at school, so my mom went to view the place and on the spot said "we want it!" Right away, the agent called the owner to find out…wah, wah, wah…there was a fly in the ointment:
The owner had promised another potential renter a look today. As their appointment was arranged before ours, I guess the owner felt they had the first right of refusal. My mom was bracing me for the worst, she said, "the place is perfect, I'm sure they'll want it." Merde.
Suspense. All last night…all day at school…I was crossing my fingers, praying to St. Anthony to bring 'round my lost apartment and hoping this other person didn't like new and clean things! I was in back-to-back class in the morning, tapping my fingers on the desk, eager to get back to see if my mom had any news. With each step up the stares, I was alternating between hoping, and then talking myself out of it. From "it has to work out" to "it's too good to be true…" and back again.
I walked through the door at at 4 p.m. Mom was sitting on the couch with a straight face. She said, "ugh, it's been a terrible day." My shoulders dropped, and my hope deflated. Then she told me to "look at this email, there's something you have to take care of."
Dear Ms. Zimmer, blah blah blah…finally, I got to the punchline: "If you will commit to a year lease, the apartment is yours!" Mom's face broke and she started laughing.
WHAT!!! YAY!!! That was a nasty little trick, Mom!
So, now you can ask me, "have you found an apartment yet?" Finally, I can answer, "YES!"
To celebrate, we walked to Pierre Herme, the home of the best macaroons in town. And they were amazing. Needless to say, a huge stress has been lifted, and I can begin to really get settled and spend time doing things other than trolling rental agency websites. I've heard that Louvre isn't too shabby?
Tomorrow, to coincidentally commemorate my last homeless day, I will be making one of my favorite dishes: Quiche Lorraine. Remember when I said I couldn't wait to make something I really like? Well, tomorrow is the day. Until now, we have made recipes to learn techniques that I am thrilled to know, but things I will likely never make on my own…fruit cake, to name one. Yes--with that gross green "fruit."
I will report the Quiche Lorraine recipe after our practical class and let you know how it goes. If it turns out a fraction as scrumptious as the chef's demo today, it will be a wonderful treat for dinner. I can't wait.
Suspense. Whether it's the journey to find a place to live, waiting for the warmth of spring or a perfectly made tart coming out of the oven…a little anxiety along the way makes it sweeter when you're finally there.
Apartment, check. The rest: to be continued... ; )
It starts when you are little and you are waiting for recess or Christmas morning. As you get older, it's checking the mail for your college acceptance letter or your first (legal) drink on your 21st birthday. When your twenty-six and going to culinary school in Paris…it seems as if finding an apartment is almost impossible. Almost.
We (and by "we" I mean mostly my mother) have searched the city high and low to find a furnished apartment that meets basic needs…internet access, an oven, non-smoking…you know, heat is good. Well, it turns out that's a tall order. Apparently, Parisians don't cook much at home, because most apartments are sans-oven. Many are nowhere near school, but mostly, a lot of places weren't so spic-and-span. That is, until yesterday, when the clouds parted…
A beautiful, newly renovated and…wait for it…never before rented (huge selling point for a OCD germaphobe like me) one-bedroom with an oven came into my life. As usual, I was at school, so my mom went to view the place and on the spot said "we want it!" Right away, the agent called the owner to find out…wah, wah, wah…there was a fly in the ointment:
The owner had promised another potential renter a look today. As their appointment was arranged before ours, I guess the owner felt they had the first right of refusal. My mom was bracing me for the worst, she said, "the place is perfect, I'm sure they'll want it." Merde.
Suspense. All last night…all day at school…I was crossing my fingers, praying to St. Anthony to bring 'round my lost apartment and hoping this other person didn't like new and clean things! I was in back-to-back class in the morning, tapping my fingers on the desk, eager to get back to see if my mom had any news. With each step up the stares, I was alternating between hoping, and then talking myself out of it. From "it has to work out" to "it's too good to be true…" and back again.
I walked through the door at at 4 p.m. Mom was sitting on the couch with a straight face. She said, "ugh, it's been a terrible day." My shoulders dropped, and my hope deflated. Then she told me to "look at this email, there's something you have to take care of."
Dear Ms. Zimmer, blah blah blah…finally, I got to the punchline: "If you will commit to a year lease, the apartment is yours!" Mom's face broke and she started laughing.
WHAT!!! YAY!!! That was a nasty little trick, Mom!
So, now you can ask me, "have you found an apartment yet?" Finally, I can answer, "YES!"
To celebrate, we walked to Pierre Herme, the home of the best macaroons in town. And they were amazing. Needless to say, a huge stress has been lifted, and I can begin to really get settled and spend time doing things other than trolling rental agency websites. I've heard that Louvre isn't too shabby?
Tomorrow, to coincidentally commemorate my last homeless day, I will be making one of my favorite dishes: Quiche Lorraine. Remember when I said I couldn't wait to make something I really like? Well, tomorrow is the day. Until now, we have made recipes to learn techniques that I am thrilled to know, but things I will likely never make on my own…fruit cake, to name one. Yes--with that gross green "fruit."
I will report the Quiche Lorraine recipe after our practical class and let you know how it goes. If it turns out a fraction as scrumptious as the chef's demo today, it will be a wonderful treat for dinner. I can't wait.
Suspense. Whether it's the journey to find a place to live, waiting for the warmth of spring or a perfectly made tart coming out of the oven…a little anxiety along the way makes it sweeter when you're finally there.
Apartment, check. The rest: to be continued... ; )
Saturday, January 9, 2010
"Sole à la Bumpa"
Yesterday was our second cuisine lesson where we made fillets of sole with a butter sauce. Yes the sauce looked relatively unassuming on the plate, but it was all butter…but we’ll get to that.
In the demo, a lovely chef du cuisine from the Basque country showed us how to fillet sole. The sole fish has four fillets, and we are to cut them away from the bones leaving as little meat as possible. It’s hard to describe the whole process, (and maybe harder to do) so I advise you to ask your fishmonger to do your filleting and send you home with beautiful, skinned fillets along with the carcass for fish stock. And, the fish stock…
I always cringe when I hear the words "fish stock," thinking smelly, murky liquid...but when fresh, it actually makes a nice braise for mild fish like sole or a base for soups. As chef was demonstrating how to make the fish dish, he also made veal stock, which took the entire class (2.5 hours). He explained that a good stock is the basis for many of the things we make and using bullion is never the same. Every day brown veal stock is made in the sous-sol (basement kitchen) in a vat that goes from floor to the top of the counter, probably 3’ wide and has a wooden spoon that is about 4' long to stir it.
As usual, chef was giving all his direction in French, but as he was skimming the fat off of the fish stock, he broke into English and emphatically said, “NEVER, NEVER, NEVER add salt.” We all furiously scribbled in our notes—NO salt!!!
When the fish stock was ready (a fraction of the time veal or chicken stock requires), he ladled some over the sole fillets and put them in the oven to braise. The fish was resting in a butter-greased pan with salt, pepper, finely minced shallot and a few splashes of vin blanc. Once the fish is done cooking (about 8 minutes), you use the cooking liquid to make your sauce.
It begins with about three cups of the cooking liquid which is reduced by half. While it is bubbling on the stove, chef takes out a packet of butter, begins to cube it and starts his speech, “people zhink French cuisine iz all butter and cream, but zis is not true...”
He takes another packet of butter out and begins to cube it, “You want to see a lot of butter and cream, eh? You go to Normandy…zey use zee butter, zey use zee cream—and zey use it togezher in everysing!”
Now, the sauce has reduced to about a cup and a half of liquid. And he starts to whisk in each cube of butter. All the while, defending butter's honor and going on about how fine cuisine is meant to be small, so each person will only have a small bit of sauce over the fish.
And as he plops the last cube of butter into the sauce, which completes a full pound, he remarks “...and, we use much less zan we used to.”
Well, I guess if served with a side of Lipitor, it’s fine!
But, as promised, he beautifully plated the fish and ladled over--well, I'd say a medium bit of the sauce. Garnished with a sprig of chervil and, fini! There were a lot of mmmmmm's in the room as the tasting dishes were passed out. Immediately when I tasted this dish, I thought of my grandpa, “Bumpa.” He loves flaky white fish…and I'm sure I’m not embarrassing him to say that he’s famous for asking for an extra side of sauce, dressing, gravy, catsup, and the like. I bet he would want more than un petit portion of this sauce. It's velvety, not surprisingly the color of butter, and you do actually get notes of the white wine, shallot, bay & thyme…one bite is d-lish.
So, Bumpa…this dish is for you. This and a bottle of vin blanc...and something sweet to finish with a cup of coffee and grand marnier when I see you again.
Today for lesson three, we had a different chef du cuisine to demonstrate chicken stock, cheese soufflé (which was uh-mazing), how to truss a chicken and a few other things. This chef is quite a character and a true restaurant chef. He was putting together the ingredients and bringing the chicken stock up to a boil when he ceremoniously sprinkled coarse salt into the pot. There were a few gasps in the room…just yesterday we had the “never, never, never” speech. One brave lady raised her hand and remarked that we were told never to use salt in stock. To which he replies, “who told you zat! It is for zee taste! You must add!”
Voila! Big lesson we all learned this week: each chef has his own method. Not surprising. They’re all strong, proud French men. Judicious note-taking is key it seems, and when in doubt, add butter.
Yesterday was our second cuisine lesson where we made fillets of sole with a butter sauce. Yes the sauce looked relatively unassuming on the plate, but it was all butter…but we’ll get to that.
In the demo, a lovely chef du cuisine from the Basque country showed us how to fillet sole. The sole fish has four fillets, and we are to cut them away from the bones leaving as little meat as possible. It’s hard to describe the whole process, (and maybe harder to do) so I advise you to ask your fishmonger to do your filleting and send you home with beautiful, skinned fillets along with the carcass for fish stock. And, the fish stock…
I always cringe when I hear the words "fish stock," thinking smelly, murky liquid...but when fresh, it actually makes a nice braise for mild fish like sole or a base for soups. As chef was demonstrating how to make the fish dish, he also made veal stock, which took the entire class (2.5 hours). He explained that a good stock is the basis for many of the things we make and using bullion is never the same. Every day brown veal stock is made in the sous-sol (basement kitchen) in a vat that goes from floor to the top of the counter, probably 3’ wide and has a wooden spoon that is about 4' long to stir it.
As usual, chef was giving all his direction in French, but as he was skimming the fat off of the fish stock, he broke into English and emphatically said, “NEVER, NEVER, NEVER add salt.” We all furiously scribbled in our notes—NO salt!!!
When the fish stock was ready (a fraction of the time veal or chicken stock requires), he ladled some over the sole fillets and put them in the oven to braise. The fish was resting in a butter-greased pan with salt, pepper, finely minced shallot and a few splashes of vin blanc. Once the fish is done cooking (about 8 minutes), you use the cooking liquid to make your sauce.
It begins with about three cups of the cooking liquid which is reduced by half. While it is bubbling on the stove, chef takes out a packet of butter, begins to cube it and starts his speech, “people zhink French cuisine iz all butter and cream, but zis is not true...”
He takes another packet of butter out and begins to cube it, “You want to see a lot of butter and cream, eh? You go to Normandy…zey use zee butter, zey use zee cream—and zey use it togezher in everysing!”
Now, the sauce has reduced to about a cup and a half of liquid. And he starts to whisk in each cube of butter. All the while, defending butter's honor and going on about how fine cuisine is meant to be small, so each person will only have a small bit of sauce over the fish.
And as he plops the last cube of butter into the sauce, which completes a full pound, he remarks “...and, we use much less zan we used to.”
Well, I guess if served with a side of Lipitor, it’s fine!
But, as promised, he beautifully plated the fish and ladled over--well, I'd say a medium bit of the sauce. Garnished with a sprig of chervil and, fini! There were a lot of mmmmmm's in the room as the tasting dishes were passed out. Immediately when I tasted this dish, I thought of my grandpa, “Bumpa.” He loves flaky white fish…and I'm sure I’m not embarrassing him to say that he’s famous for asking for an extra side of sauce, dressing, gravy, catsup, and the like. I bet he would want more than un petit portion of this sauce. It's velvety, not surprisingly the color of butter, and you do actually get notes of the white wine, shallot, bay & thyme…one bite is d-lish.
So, Bumpa…this dish is for you. This and a bottle of vin blanc...and something sweet to finish with a cup of coffee and grand marnier when I see you again.
Today for lesson three, we had a different chef du cuisine to demonstrate chicken stock, cheese soufflé (which was uh-mazing), how to truss a chicken and a few other things. This chef is quite a character and a true restaurant chef. He was putting together the ingredients and bringing the chicken stock up to a boil when he ceremoniously sprinkled coarse salt into the pot. There were a few gasps in the room…just yesterday we had the “never, never, never” speech. One brave lady raised her hand and remarked that we were told never to use salt in stock. To which he replies, “who told you zat! It is for zee taste! You must add!”
Voila! Big lesson we all learned this week: each chef has his own method. Not surprising. They’re all strong, proud French men. Judicious note-taking is key it seems, and when in doubt, add butter.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Days one and two are over…with a lot to take in and precious little time to report!
Yesterday, jour un, was the orientation complete with tours, introductions, rules and more rules. Things began at 9:30a, and I arrived about 9:20a, so there were quite a number of people already there. I was met by a French-speaking administrator of the school—well they’re all French—who asked me, “Parlez-vous français?”
“No” I replied, smiling apologetically, “not yet.”
“Un petit peu?” she persisted.
“Um, no…” I confessed.
She raised her eyebrow, directed me where to sit and walked away to greet another student. At this point I started to get a little nervous...
We received our uniforms and "kits" consisting of a lovely set of Wüsthof knives, spatulas, whisk…even a LCB logo wine bottle opener (love those cheeky French!). Perhaps if I am feeling adventurous I will post a photo of me in my uniform…though there's sure to be no flattering angle! They ask you to try them on to find the proper size, so a bunch of us girls went to the locker room to change. All of us remarked how small the jackets were around the hips…and indeed, the chefs jackets are still cut for men. All of the chefs du cuisine and pâtisserie, our professors, are men. Photos of Julia Child everywhere, but not a female chef on staff…at least not this session. But, c'est la vie.
The first day at anything is always the same it seems: eager to sink your teeth in, and you get in return is a bunch of paperwork and talking heads. But, I must say, it has been fun to get acquainted with my fellow students. At the beginning of the two hour rules/schedule review, the head of academic affairs greeted us by saying welcome in at least 10 different languages. There are about 80 students in the basic program this session. The "Basic" group is comprised of pâtisserie only students, cuisine only and those doing both, or Grand Diplôme. We represent 24 different countries, including Korea, Japan, Brazil, Portugal, Israel, U.S., Ireland, Canada, Indonesia, Turkey…and the list goes on. Most everyone speaks English, so it has been fun to hear about everyone's background: from the pharmacist from Madrid who has a brother living in Libya, to the Taiwanese bride-to-be describing her wedding ceremony plans (very different tradition from ours), everything is an education.
But ahh, you want to hear about the food, oui??
Today was our first day with actual classes. There are two kinds of classes, demonstration and practical. Demonstration is where the chef, well I'm sure you guessed it, demonstrates a recipe(s) and related techniques. He instructs in French, and after each few sentences (or sometimes a short paragraph) an English-speaking translator chimes in with the gist of what he said. Practical classes are where you then mimic the chef's technique and method for certain recipes. Today I had three demos, so tomorrow I will let you know how the corresponding practicals go.
A couple of things I learned today + one ah-ha moment:
For cuisine, we made Rustic Vegetable Soup and learned the names of different ways to cut vegetables/fruits and make a bouquet garnis. The soup wasn't anything exciting…plain and more about demonstrating your skill with your couteau, or knife. One helpful tip chef gave us was that when mincing garlic, you should always cut the clove in half (longitudinally from root to tip), open and remove the green part in the middle. The translator called this a "germ"…which I think it's British for growth? (That part is bitter, especially when the garlic is not cooked for a long time.) Then you smash the clove with the flat side of your cleaver and mince with your chef's knife. Chef says using a press loses too much garlic.
The school aims to use every usable part of each ingredient. Every piece of food you discard in a restaurant is a waste of money, and, well a waste period. Tomorrow for our shortbread "diamond" cookie practical, each student needs the zest of 1/4 of an orange so four students will share one orange. Simple, but très important.
My ah-ha moment may not be as exciting to some, but if you bake cookies, or any kind of pastry, you may appreciate this… So, the second chef of the day is the pastry chef that taught us how to make shortbreads. During his basic instructions, he said that you should never put anything directly onto a baking sheet, to always use parchment paper for pastry. Now, if you've baked on parchment before, you know it can slide if the pan leaves a level plane for any reason. The simple, genius solution is to use four small magnets on each corner of the paper to keep it firmly attached. The snap of the magnets hit the metal and, voila, my life changed. Not so much for you? Sorry, it was only my first day ;-)
The schedule of a Grand Diplôme student is full, often 12-hour days, 6 days a week. The thought of travel while I'm here is fading…but nonetheless, it's focused me on the task at hand: to learn everything Le Cordon Bleu has to offer and parler du français. As for the French part, the school offers classes that focus on culinary terminology and are organized during Friday nights and Saturdays so as to not conflict with the program. I signed up for that in a hurry! It begins on the 23rd…so it's Rosetta Stone and pesky questions to other fluent speakers until then.
As for soaking up the culinary knowledge, it's probably the most interested I've ever been in a classroom. And that's for a cookie I don't even like that much ;-) I can't wait to begin making food that is exciting. Not that julienne-ing (if that's a word) a carrot or making a shortbread cookie isn't a worthwhile pursuit and something I must master…but I am waiting for that amazing dish that I will cook for you the next time I see you :-)
Sorry for the rambling…but I walk to school in the dark, and return in the dark. Time is short and I must go study now for tomorrow's practicals! I will report back and tell more about the apartment search, other interesting tidbits and exciting characters.
Oh, and it snowed today.
xoxo
Yesterday, jour un, was the orientation complete with tours, introductions, rules and more rules. Things began at 9:30a, and I arrived about 9:20a, so there were quite a number of people already there. I was met by a French-speaking administrator of the school—well they’re all French—who asked me, “Parlez-vous français?”
“No” I replied, smiling apologetically, “not yet.”
“Un petit peu?” she persisted.
“Um, no…” I confessed.
She raised her eyebrow, directed me where to sit and walked away to greet another student. At this point I started to get a little nervous...
We received our uniforms and "kits" consisting of a lovely set of Wüsthof knives, spatulas, whisk…even a LCB logo wine bottle opener (love those cheeky French!). Perhaps if I am feeling adventurous I will post a photo of me in my uniform…though there's sure to be no flattering angle! They ask you to try them on to find the proper size, so a bunch of us girls went to the locker room to change. All of us remarked how small the jackets were around the hips…and indeed, the chefs jackets are still cut for men. All of the chefs du cuisine and pâtisserie, our professors, are men. Photos of Julia Child everywhere, but not a female chef on staff…at least not this session. But, c'est la vie.
The first day at anything is always the same it seems: eager to sink your teeth in, and you get in return is a bunch of paperwork and talking heads. But, I must say, it has been fun to get acquainted with my fellow students. At the beginning of the two hour rules/schedule review, the head of academic affairs greeted us by saying welcome in at least 10 different languages. There are about 80 students in the basic program this session. The "Basic" group is comprised of pâtisserie only students, cuisine only and those doing both, or Grand Diplôme. We represent 24 different countries, including Korea, Japan, Brazil, Portugal, Israel, U.S., Ireland, Canada, Indonesia, Turkey…and the list goes on. Most everyone speaks English, so it has been fun to hear about everyone's background: from the pharmacist from Madrid who has a brother living in Libya, to the Taiwanese bride-to-be describing her wedding ceremony plans (very different tradition from ours), everything is an education.
But ahh, you want to hear about the food, oui??
Today was our first day with actual classes. There are two kinds of classes, demonstration and practical. Demonstration is where the chef, well I'm sure you guessed it, demonstrates a recipe(s) and related techniques. He instructs in French, and after each few sentences (or sometimes a short paragraph) an English-speaking translator chimes in with the gist of what he said. Practical classes are where you then mimic the chef's technique and method for certain recipes. Today I had three demos, so tomorrow I will let you know how the corresponding practicals go.
A couple of things I learned today + one ah-ha moment:
For cuisine, we made Rustic Vegetable Soup and learned the names of different ways to cut vegetables/fruits and make a bouquet garnis. The soup wasn't anything exciting…plain and more about demonstrating your skill with your couteau, or knife. One helpful tip chef gave us was that when mincing garlic, you should always cut the clove in half (longitudinally from root to tip), open and remove the green part in the middle. The translator called this a "germ"…which I think it's British for growth? (That part is bitter, especially when the garlic is not cooked for a long time.) Then you smash the clove with the flat side of your cleaver and mince with your chef's knife. Chef says using a press loses too much garlic.
The school aims to use every usable part of each ingredient. Every piece of food you discard in a restaurant is a waste of money, and, well a waste period. Tomorrow for our shortbread "diamond" cookie practical, each student needs the zest of 1/4 of an orange so four students will share one orange. Simple, but très important.
My ah-ha moment may not be as exciting to some, but if you bake cookies, or any kind of pastry, you may appreciate this… So, the second chef of the day is the pastry chef that taught us how to make shortbreads. During his basic instructions, he said that you should never put anything directly onto a baking sheet, to always use parchment paper for pastry. Now, if you've baked on parchment before, you know it can slide if the pan leaves a level plane for any reason. The simple, genius solution is to use four small magnets on each corner of the paper to keep it firmly attached. The snap of the magnets hit the metal and, voila, my life changed. Not so much for you? Sorry, it was only my first day ;-)
The schedule of a Grand Diplôme student is full, often 12-hour days, 6 days a week. The thought of travel while I'm here is fading…but nonetheless, it's focused me on the task at hand: to learn everything Le Cordon Bleu has to offer and parler du français. As for the French part, the school offers classes that focus on culinary terminology and are organized during Friday nights and Saturdays so as to not conflict with the program. I signed up for that in a hurry! It begins on the 23rd…so it's Rosetta Stone and pesky questions to other fluent speakers until then.
As for soaking up the culinary knowledge, it's probably the most interested I've ever been in a classroom. And that's for a cookie I don't even like that much ;-) I can't wait to begin making food that is exciting. Not that julienne-ing (if that's a word) a carrot or making a shortbread cookie isn't a worthwhile pursuit and something I must master…but I am waiting for that amazing dish that I will cook for you the next time I see you :-)
Sorry for the rambling…but I walk to school in the dark, and return in the dark. Time is short and I must go study now for tomorrow's practicals! I will report back and tell more about the apartment search, other interesting tidbits and exciting characters.
Oh, and it snowed today.
xoxo
Sunday, January 3, 2010
After much ado, I have arrived safely in Paris with four gargantuan bags in tow (one almost too heavy to check!), no comment on how many pairs of shoes and a camera, flip & laptop to record my time here.
It is a frigid 37-degrees outside, but sun was shining and so far all the Parisians have been very polite and helpful…which has been quite comical with my mom over-enunciating everything in English. Well to be fair, she did try with our cab driver who brought us to the hotel…
Mom: How much?
Cabbie: Soixante
Mom looks confused, so the nice man holds up six fingers to mime 60.
Mom: Ohhh, seis (in her Michigan accent, saays)
Me: Mom, that’s Spanish you know…
Cabbie laughs…but she tips well, so he’s happy.
Mom: mare-see-bow-coo
We all laugh. He helps us in with the massive amounts of luggage. The trip is off to a good start.
She’s going to kill me for writing that, but it was classic ; )
Tomorrow I’m going to head out to the 15eme arrondissement to find Le Cordon Bleu! Orientation is not until Tuesday, but as Paris tends to confound my sense of direction, it’s probably best to get the first experience of getting incredibly lost out of the way…plus I can’t wait to actually see it. The real deal.
Truly, I am lucky to have my mom here to help me. Anyone who knows her can vouch that she is the taskmaster, and finding an apartment for me to live in is first on the agenda. Among the laundry list is getting phone service, a French bank account, and hair dryer with the proper voltage (crucial!). I’m sure it will only continue to grow when I start school. Not to mention the small detail of learning to speak French…yes, I really know nothing other than je m'appelle, s’il vous plait & the like. Hence the title of this blog…
On that note, I guess I should add a bit of the obligatory background info: I will attend Le Cordon Bleu from 5 Jan—26 August. I will be studying both cuisine and patisserie, completing both at the superior level to earn “Le Grand Diplôme.” Following graduation, most of the students go on to do a 3 month internship, so it looks as though I will be here just shy of a year.
I will do my best update this blog as often as time allows (as long as you forgive my lack of time to edit in exchange). I have no real outline or grand plan, but I’m sure I will include photos, recipes and general info about my life here and any excursions I am lucky enough to take.
I miss you all and will definitely give a full report of how orientation goes. I also have skype, so we can talk that way for any of you that have that capability (and if you don’t, c’mon…my grandma does it, you can do it!), as well as Facebook & email, of course.
But for now, it’s off to try to get some sleep to get onto Parisian time.
Bon nuit!
It is a frigid 37-degrees outside, but sun was shining and so far all the Parisians have been very polite and helpful…which has been quite comical with my mom over-enunciating everything in English. Well to be fair, she did try with our cab driver who brought us to the hotel…
Mom: How much?
Cabbie: Soixante
Mom looks confused, so the nice man holds up six fingers to mime 60.
Mom: Ohhh, seis (in her Michigan accent, saays)
Me: Mom, that’s Spanish you know…
Cabbie laughs…but she tips well, so he’s happy.
Mom: mare-see-bow-coo
We all laugh. He helps us in with the massive amounts of luggage. The trip is off to a good start.
She’s going to kill me for writing that, but it was classic ; )
Tomorrow I’m going to head out to the 15eme arrondissement to find Le Cordon Bleu! Orientation is not until Tuesday, but as Paris tends to confound my sense of direction, it’s probably best to get the first experience of getting incredibly lost out of the way…plus I can’t wait to actually see it. The real deal.
Truly, I am lucky to have my mom here to help me. Anyone who knows her can vouch that she is the taskmaster, and finding an apartment for me to live in is first on the agenda. Among the laundry list is getting phone service, a French bank account, and hair dryer with the proper voltage (crucial!). I’m sure it will only continue to grow when I start school. Not to mention the small detail of learning to speak French…yes, I really know nothing other than je m'appelle, s’il vous plait & the like. Hence the title of this blog…
On that note, I guess I should add a bit of the obligatory background info: I will attend Le Cordon Bleu from 5 Jan—26 August. I will be studying both cuisine and patisserie, completing both at the superior level to earn “Le Grand Diplôme.” Following graduation, most of the students go on to do a 3 month internship, so it looks as though I will be here just shy of a year.
I will do my best update this blog as often as time allows (as long as you forgive my lack of time to edit in exchange). I have no real outline or grand plan, but I’m sure I will include photos, recipes and general info about my life here and any excursions I am lucky enough to take.
I miss you all and will definitely give a full report of how orientation goes. I also have skype, so we can talk that way for any of you that have that capability (and if you don’t, c’mon…my grandma does it, you can do it!), as well as Facebook & email, of course.
But for now, it’s off to try to get some sleep to get onto Parisian time.
Bon nuit!
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