Sweetbreads, cigars & chocolate...oh my!

I am going to make this post brief because this coming week at school is jam-packed, including our written exam for pastry. I don't write about pastry as often, but I can't forget I have to design a chocolate sculpture for our exam! More on that later…

Atelier #2 was a great success. The chef really liked my menu and plating. We had adorable Chef Bean, who can be a tough critic. There is always a dramatic pause when he tastes your dish. He tastes every element without saying anything. Just tastes, thinks. Nods. Every now and then there's a "hmmm…" He picks up a spoonful of sauce and watches it stream down onto the plate to check the consistency. The anticipation builds…and then…he delivers his verdict:

"I like this because your mind, it is out of zee box. And, I know it is out of zee box…because I made zee box!" He said as he chuckled, I think because he wrote the list of ingredients. I felt my face flush and couldn't help but smile. He loved my appetizer, said it was "parfait." The main course was well done, there was just one area he wanted me to develop further. I made a "white asparagus cigar": white asparagus rolled in a sea bream-cauliflower-parsley farce, wrapped in phyllo dough. He loved the concept, but there wasn't enough contrast in the flavors of the asparagus and the farce. I agreed, and struggled with the same thing while I was preparing the dish. The only problem was they were all required ingredients. I tried to add confit garlic to help, but there just wasn't enough oomph. The only spices around were cumin, curry, coriander or anise seeds...nothing that would have worked. Nonetheless, I had a good day. He said to keep the same approach and style for the final exam, so that made me feel like all the preparation helped and was worth it. 

My dishes...

Appetizer: Duo of sweetbreads. Obviously, sweetbreads were the scary thing on the ingredient list. I figured, why fight it...let's showcase this maligned offal. So, on the left are veal sweetbreads braised in port and veal stock. On the right: deep fried sweetbreads in a batter with parsley and brunoised pancetta topped with fleur de sel and lemon pulp. (It took me forever to pull apart all of those little pieces of pulp with tweezers!) The middle is a section of plum tomato on a bed of rocket leaves topped with squares of basil vinaigrette and lemon cream jelly finished with a few drops of reduced port. 

Main dish: I think it's a sin to do anything to veal tenderloin except cook it in beaucoup butter. The main dish was built around that: veal tenderloin, marinated in ginger, soy, Dijon mustard, honey and oil, wrapped in caul fat and sautéed in clarified butter. Ginger-soy veal jus. White asparagus cigar. New spring onion flan with spinach topped with beetroot and artichoke brunoise that were tossed in olive oil and red wine vinegar. 

The veal was pretty darn yummy. 

Now it's time to brainstorm for the chocolate sculpture exam. We have to make a box with a lid, a flower and petals and some way to adorn the top of the box. Until living in Paris, I had no idea what a huge deal chocolate is. This video shows some of the incredible work people do…clearly nothing like I will be doing, but you'll get the gist.

Off to study!

Race to the finish

The second atelier is this Saturday, and to say that it is all I'm thinking about is no overstatement. I could likely recite the entire ingredient list at this point and have been working different scenarios in my head. The items are more interesting and in some cases more problematic. White asparagus, artichoke and cauliflower are all required. Each have their own flavor but similar place in a course. It's hard to use them all, not to mention they're all white. Well, turned artichoke is yellowish, yes. But they are all in the neutral family. Then we have vibrant beetroot. Rocket. Ginger. Basil. Caul fat. All cool.

My process this time around was a bit different. Last time I tried to block out the world, what everyone else was doing and come up with something totally my own. Yes, I consulted with the chef and then some of my friends but only after everything was finalized. For the most part I held my cards close to the vest. This time, over dinner with my friend, Anthony, we discussed whether we should bounce ideas off of each other at the early stage or not. He too was tightlipped about his strategy and menu last time. We both hemmed and hawed...and then we spilled.

I felt it was important to collaborate this time. Two heads are better than one, and Anthony and I have very different sensibilities. His taste is very different from mine, but I definitely respect his palate and perspective. In the kitchen, he is lightning speed and amazing with creating timelines. He has a background in operations management and loves spreadsheets, efficiency, calculations and formulae. Anthony is drawn to different ingredients as well (his middle name should be foie gras). All of this makes him so great to work with for me, being the total opposite. Knowing we would be on separate tracks is what makes it a great dynamic. Our discussions begin and end with The List:

*1 gilt-head sea bream
*1 veal tenderloin
*200 g veal sweetbreads
*caul fat
4 slices of pancetta
30 g ginger
250 g purple potatoes
*1 Brittany artichoke
1 green bell pepper
2 plum tomatoes
*250 g spinach leaves
2 lemons
*1 raw beetroot
*1/2 cauliflower
*1/2 bunch new spring onions
*6 white asparagus
100 g wild rocket
1 leek
1 carrot
1 onion
2 shallots
1/2 head of garlic
1/2 bunch of tarragon
1/2 bunch of basil
1/4 bunch of parsley

The asterisk denotes a required ingredient and again the basics are included like veal stock, eggs, cream, butter, etc. Interesting additions are Vermouth, soy sauce, gelatin and phyllo. We must make a fish stock, a vegetable flan, a crust or something en croute and have a small brunoise garnish.

After many trips to Mora, the culinary bookstore and the brainstorming sessions over cups of coffee and glasses of wine, we came up with lots of terrible ideas. Deconstructed blanquette de veau and flan soufflé were low points to be sure. Eventually the coffee kicked in (or was it the wine?) and things started to gel. We arrived at happy conclusions and Anthony and I each have an interesting menu as a result (if I do say so myself). I am sure I could have done it alone again, but of course talking it out and getting feedback from someone you trust helps. Plus it's just more fun.

Having the menu finalized--well on paper--is half the battle. My plan for tomorrow is to finish my timeline and make sure I can plate everything within 5 hours. This atelier is above all a test of time management. Of course it's about the food, but every minute you are late on the final exam counts against you. A mere 60 seconds late and they will deduct points from your grade. More than 5 minutes? "Forget it..." as Chef Bean told us. Your food can be perfect, but if it doesn't get out on time it won't matter. I need to hustle. I keep playing the tape in my head re-working the order so I can maximize each step.

We only have 36 days until graduation. This. is. it. Say a little prayer for all of us on Saturday if you think of it. I'll report back après!

xo

Puzzle pieces

I am pleased to report (though a bit late) that my first atelier went very well. No disasters, incidents or accidents. My menu came to me relatively easily. We had to make a farce, or stuffing, of some sort and I wanted to use the squab legs for that to "check the box" for using the squab. Squab--pigeon, if we're calling a spade a spade--is not my cup of tea. It's gamey and the aroma reminds me of blood. It's a filthy animal. Dirty and tedious to butcher. I don't like it so I figure I can sort of hide it in a stuffing. Then, I thought it would be nice to make a fresh pasta. There's few things better in life than homemade pasta. Pasta. Stuffing. Ahh yes...ravioli. And, things developed from there.

I liked the idea of "surf and turf," squab ravioli and unilaterally cooked salmon fillet was my first plan for the main dish. Thank goodness I talked to the chefs, because they all turned up their nose at the idea. I had to use the salmon for the starter and sauteed squab breast for the main. I resisted knowing that's what everyone would be doing, but alas, we all did it because it made the most sense. I fight authority, authority always wins. After a few practice sessions at home with trusty friend, Carolyn, my menu was set:

Appetizer

Salmon tartare with olive oil, soy sauce, fresh dill, lime juice & zest, brunoised shallot and red pepper; mayonnaise made with peppercorn and dill infused olive oil and white wine; pomme frites seasoned with black pepper, espelette pepper & fleur de sel

Main dish

Squab breast with a crispy skin and a squab-port jus reduction; ravioli stuffed with braised squab leg, mushrooms, shallots finished in nut brown butter and parsley over a pea puree; sauteed shrimp marinated in garlic, parsley stems, soy sauce, lime zest, espelette pepper with a cognac sauce; confit tomato and glazed pearl onion garnish

My two main dishes are above, but sorry I forgot to snap one of the appetizer. It was a great experience and felt wonderful to be creative. Brainstorming with the chefs and friends was very helpful and my ideas evolved a lot over the week leading to the 6-hour endurance test.

My idea for the tartare accompanied by pomme frites came mostly because we were required to use the potatoes and I couldn't figure how to work them into my main dish. I asked the Chef "Bean" what he thought about doing a salmon tartare with frites as sort of a play on steak tartare. He wasn't over the moon for the idea, but as we talked it started to grow on him. I said that it would be a clean, precise plate. Perfectly batonneted potatoes. "If it is perfect, I like it. But it has to be perfect." (No pressure!)

We had a different chef for the day of the atelier. A very short man we all call "Napoleon." He's known to demand a loud and lively "OUI CHEF" from students and expects a lot from us in the kitchen. You can tell he really wants to share his knowledge, isn't bothered by questions and will take special interest in struggling kids. He used to be the chef for President Chirac and is a true artist when it comes to presentation and plating. About an hour in, he came over and asked what I was making. When I told him salmon tartare, he raised his eyebrows, shrugged and walked away. Oh, bother. 

I forged ahead with the menu and thankfully, he ended up really liking the dish. He liked the contrast of the cold tartare with the hot frites. Liked the infusion in the mayonnaise. Gave me a few ideas for alternative presentations, and finally uttered the two words we all hope to hear from the chefs: "tres bien." I had an internal second-long celebration (ran out to pound a Diet Coke!) and I jumped back in to focus on the looming main dish. 

Three hours later, I was anxiously drumming my fingers on the marble counter with my two finished plates steaming and waiting for Napoleon. I was hoping to finish in under five hours because we are allotted only four hours for our final exam. There were a lot of elements to my dish and everything takes more time than you expect. I had about 6 different pots to keep warm, I finally get everything on the plate and then everyone finished at the same time. We were all down to the wire and all rushing for the chef to taste. He finally told us not to worry if the food wasn't hot. Phew! Ten minutes later, he came around to moi. He said I had good organization today and he liked my presentation. He thought the "surf & turf" was a good idea. Again gave me some different plating ideas and gave me a nod of approval. "Today is good work for you."

"Merci chef." (Inside my head: yipee!)

Overall, our group of 8 came up with cool ideas. Squab sliders. A shortbread cracker with cheese and shrimp rolled inside the dough. Parmesan cup for salmon tartare. An eggshell as a cup for a sabayon. Everyone given the same puzzle pieces and we each came out with a different picture. 

Our second atelier is on Saturday and I've already been noodling over the ingredient list. I want to really focus on the time element and make sure I can tighten things up. Hustle. 

And I shouldn't have ever complained about pigeon...this time we have sweetbreads. So, if you happen to have any bright ideas for that, let me know. While I've never been one for the thymus gland of veal, Chef Stril said he prepared them once for Frank Sinatra at 3 a.m. and it was one of his favorite things to eat. Frank liked them fried. Maybe I'll try that…

"if you can't take the heat…"

Paris has been 90°F-plus for the last week. Outside. You can only imagine what it's like in the kitchen with 10 ranges blazing. Yeah…brings new meaning to that old phrase. But, we've earned every drip of sweat and every blister on our feet to stand in the kitchen as Superior students. It's humbling what is expected of us now: perfect cooking, spot-on seasoning, precise knife skills. We've also been liberated, and soon we will prove what we can do in our first atelier.

The superior cuisine program consists of two "ateliers," a word that translates roughly to an artists studio or workroom. We are given a list of ingredients, some of which we must use, some of which are optional, and out of that we will create an appetizer and a main dish. Two identical plates of each. We have 6 hours to complete this task, instead of our usual 2 and a half for our practical classes.

Our ingredient list:
*1 squab
*250 g salmon fillet
*4 jumbo shrimp
1 chicken breast
200 g chicken wings
*250 g fingerling potatoes
2 tomatoes
*1 red bell pepper
*350 g fresh peas
*150 g small pearl onions
2 limes
1 leek
1 large onion
1 eggplant
1 zucchini
1/2 bunch chervil
1/4 bunch flat-leaf parsley
1/2 bunch dill
1/2 head garlic
*150 g cultivated mushrooms
3 shallots
100 g celery stalk
(*must be used)

And we will be provided with usual staples like stocks, butter, eggs, cream, wine, seasoning, yeast, etc. I've been playing twister in my head with all the ingredients, different combinations and…just when I think I've figured it out…something else pops up and I'm back at square one. Ahh, freedom.

Until then, we have the usual demos and practical classes that follow. The superior chefs are, well, superior. We had one demonstration with the big cheese, the "Chef of the Chefs," and we all sat watching for two hours with our jaws on the floor in amazement. At the end my friend, Carolyn, shook her head and said, "so that's what it's like to be perfect." In an hour and 20 minutes, he finished everything we are given two and a half hours to do. And we plate one portion. He was cooking for the entire class to taste. And if seeing wasn't believing, it tasted amazing. Sadly, it was just a tease. He's now on his summer holiday for several weeks, so we won't see him again until the end of the term.

In the mean time, we have the adorable chef hailing from the Burgundy region that bears an uncanny resemblance to Mr. Bean. "Bean," as we all call him, is fast, deliberate, and has the hands of a surgeon. Sometimes he gets a little flustered, but immediately smiles, cracks a joke and finds his equilibrium again. And. he. is. good. A great chef, and a thoughtful teacher. He tastes every component of our plate and gives feedback on each thing. The first time I got a "parfait" from him almost brought me to tears. Truly.

I am still playing mental musical chairs with of all those ingredients. Could I start with the squab or is it too gamey? Mushrooms as a farce? Pea soup?...nahh. This weekend I'm going to practice a few ideas. Probably start back at square one. Eventually something will gel, and I'll build around that.

The atelier is a week from Tuesday, so I'll report back on the final menu and what the chef thinks…

Until then…bisous!