Homegrown

While being home for the first time…well, in a pretty long time I've reconnected with some old friends and done some exploring. As I have talked about, my grandparents grew up in the lower-east side of Detroit. My grandmother's street, Algonquin, was right near the Hudson Motors plant. Every Hudson that came off the line would take a first test drive down Algonquin to make sure everything was running right.

Hudson Motors is long gone as are countless manufacturing jobs. Detroit's population, once 3 million, is now around 800 thousand. What's a city to do with a surplus of land, dwindling population and an unofficial unemployment rate of 55%? Some people think urban farming is the answer.

The old Packard plant, future farm?

This movement came to my attention from an article in the Atlantic, "19 people risking their reputations, fortunes, and lives in pursuit of big ideas." One of the 19 was John Hantz. Mr. Hantz has committed $30m to creating the world's largest urban farm right here in Detroit.

This struck me immediately as a real solution to what ails Detroit. It's not banging the drum of bringing back manufacturing jobs, a post-war era dream that will never be replicated. It deals with the huge surplus of land in the city and eventually could bring some value back to real estate. It would create healthy, fresh food for the city's residents. Education for children and families about agriculture and healthier living. Not a bad idea for one of the country's fattest states. Not to mention reducing the monetary and environmental costs of getting our produce from Peru, Mexico, Argentina and the like.

Hantz Farms sparked my interest, and then I learned that this movement is underway and growing. I attended an Urban Agriculture Summit put together by the Engineering Society of Detroit. The keynote speaker was Daniel Carmody, president of Eastern Market. The various panels included many speakers on zoning, finance, environmental and geological issues, different farming methods and job creation. A full day of information and I learned a lot.

Did you know that Manhattan, Boston and San Francisco together could all fit within the city limits of Detroit? We have a lot of land and few people. There is an estimated 30 thousand acres of vacant land currently in the city. As a farming state, Michigan has the 2nd most diverse set of crops after California. Detroit has some of the best soil in the state.

While urban farming is a trendy idea, it's not new. During the second World War, Americans were encouraged to plant "victory gardens." In 1944, 40% of all consumed produce in the US was grown in these local victory gardens. This was news to me, so I asked my grandparents if they remembered this:

"Oh sure!" they both replied. Bumpa even laughed and said, "I remember planting red geraniums in the center of our garden in the shape of a 'V' for victory."

In a generation we went from almost everyone knowing how to grow their own food to almost nobody knowing how to grow their own food. But the tide is slowly shifting. Today, there are 55 schools and 250 families in Detroit participating in farm projects and about 1,220 farms in the city.

This Saturday, I went to Eastern Market to check it out. They have expanded and there was a lot of Michigan produce and artisanal food products. Even still, there were pomegranates from Peru and strawberries from California. It seems there's an opportunity for more local farmers to sell their product to the public. And in a town where you're looked down upon for driving an import, I'm sure the locals would be happy to buy homegrown food.

Of course, there are always obstacles. Legal issues are still being debated (specifically over, the Right to Farm Act of 1981). Some areas of the city have excessive lead in the soil and there are studies as to how that effects potential crops. Irrigation issues and the cost of using city water. All things that need to be addressed, and judging by the thoughtful people on these panels, I think they are.

Education. Jobs. Wholesome food. Cleaning up the city.

Sounds good to me.

Faith

It's no secret the city of Detroit is in shambles. It's steely and broken down exterior has been steadily disintegrating for all of my life and decades before. While it's heart beats slowly and with less gusto than it once did, somehow it still continues to beat. 

I grew up hearing stories about the city from my grandparents who were raised there. They met at St. Philip Neri High School in the lower east side of Detroit. She lived on Algonquin and he on Marlboro. Met when he knocked on her door his junior year collecting for a paper drive. She was a freshmen and "the prettiest girl in school." Sweethearts from then on, married the day after he graduated from college. They settled, like most young white couples, in a suburb of the city.

Alice & Tom...still sweethearts

There were stories of going to restaurants "downtown" or nights out at the Fisher Theater where they would run into all of their friends and acquaintances. My favorite was hearing about old Joe Muir's. A fancy seafood restaurant with high ceilings, mahogany bar and waiters in tuxedos. An institution in the city of Detroit. Back in the day on a Friday or Saturday night, the line to get a table at Joe's would be so long that they had a bartender with a cart going down the line of patrons selling cocktails and cigarettes. As Bumpa would tell it, "invariably, you would know some of the people in line, and it was always kind of fun even to wait for the table and have a drink."

Growing up, churches and restaurants were my narrative of the city. I remember loving to go to Joe Muir's, ordering lobster and giggling at all the grown-ups wearing lobster bibs. I remember sitting between my grandparents in my grandpa's big Deville riding down to Roma Cafe. Russel St. Deli in Eastern Market was a favorite lunch spot for my grandma and her sisters after attending Wednesday mass at St. Joe's. When I was off school, I loved to go with them. It was the prettiest church I had ever seen as a child. The gold leafed stars on the robin's egg blue ceiling were so magical to me. The sisters would tell me stories of their mother, my great grandmother, who was a cook in the rectory of a church downtown.

We might have a matchbook left as a momento, but Joe Muir's has been gone for some time. No more St. Philip Neri. But old St. Joe's is working hard to keep up it's once magnificent edifice and Roma's still stands as the oldest Italian restaurant in Detroit. It's meat sauce, red table linens and famous Roma salad hasn't changed in my lifetime (perhaps even since opening in 1890).

Just when you think there's no surprises left, there are still some beats in the old ticker. Great new restaurants like Slow's BBQ and El Barzon have emerged. And there's still a lot of charm to be unearthed. My grandparents recently discovered a church built in 1882. (You read that right, recently & 1882.) The Sweetest Heart of Mary is a Polish church that has been remarkably maintained and expanded. Right in their backyard growing up and even closer to Roma Cafe, the restaurant Grandma & Bumpa have frequented their entire married life. It took until 2010 to peek inside.

I had the pleasure of going to lunch at Roma with my grandparents today. The first time in a long time I had eaten there. Eddie was our waiter and was surprised to see me, "good to see you, I remember you in the baby basket!" A lot of the old time guys like Roberto, little John, Sam and Dimitri are gone. My grandparents always ask after them and reminisce about the days of Charlie Pope. But, the guys still wear the tux and make their famous salad for your table. 

Afterwards, we drove up to Sweetest Heart of Mary to take a look. It was a gorgeous fall day. The bright sunlight made the already beautiful--and gargantuan--stained glass windows sparkle and flooded the church with light. 

Bumpa walking up to the Sweetest Heart of Mary

 Statue of the Blessed Virgin on the North side of the church

Recently refurbished altar

Lectern and gorgeous windows

I realized, that just when I had written off the city of Detroit as memories, it still had a trick or two up it's sleeve. Rays of hope. And in a grand church, you can't help but have a little faith. 

I've come back home to figure out what's next on my life's path. Nothing like exploring your roots to help propel you forward. Especially when it's free. ; ) But seriously...what has all of my schooling and experience taught me? And, more importantly, how can I channel it into something marketable? 

I've ruled some things out, tried some things on and have lots more ideas. The answer will neither come easily nor likely be the obvious one to all. But, it will come. The stars will align. I have faith. 

So, I'm closing out my Parisian adventure in my hometown near Detroit. I'd like to continue to blog when I find something interesting…culinary or otherwise. Here or elsewhere. I'll keep you posted on where I go next, and surely let you know when the pasta finally sticks to the wall.

Thank you to my mother and Kevin for letting me indulge my dreams and figure all of this out rent-free. Thank you to all of my friends and family for their help, support and taste-testing. Thank you to my comrades from culinary school for their shared strength and wisdom while we all are finding our way. And thank you to my grandparents for exposing me to wonderful food and culture from a very young age.

Wolfgang Puck's tagline is "Live. Love. Eat." 

I'm bummed he already copyrighted it...  

Brought to you by the letter "Z"

My last finals at Le Cordon Bleu are complete. I have been looking through my notes and binders and laughing at how detailed my notes were from the first days. "Put wet paper towel under cutting board to prevent sliding" and "cut leeks length-wise to rinse out dirt in tepid water." Intermediate was more streamlined. Finally in Superior, my notes usually consist of something like this:

1) confit tomatoes

2) butcher meat

3) jus

4) farce

5) oven--180

…and so on

While each step would have its own page in Basic, now we just know what to do. When I see "confit tomatoes," I know I have to put on a pot of boiling water. Set an oven to 90-degrees Celsius. Cut the stem out of fresh tomatoes, and score an "x" into the skin on the opposite pole. Prep an ice bath. When the water boils, drop in the tomatoes for just a minute or two. When you see the first break in the skin, take them out and put them directly into the ice bath. Let them sit for a few minutes, not more than five. Then peel the skin. Cut into quarters, remove the seeds, put into a bowl. Toss the tomato petals with olive oil, salt and pepper. Line a baking sheet with parchment. Lay on the petals skin-side up. Throw a few sprigs of thyme, a bay leaf and a smashed garlic clove on the sheet as well. Let it dry in the low oven for at least an hour (why you do this first, because it takes so long). And that's "confit tomatoes." 

So many other random tidbits we've learned. You probably knew the best times to eat oysters are in months with the letter "r." But, did you know that lobsters can outlive humans? Apparently, they can live over a hundred years when their claw meat alone can weigh 800 g--without the shell. Never boil squid ink if you add it to a sauce, it gets grainy. Boil beans in unsalted water so they don't fall apart. Water and ice with salt is colder than water and ice alone. If preparing ahead of time, use clarified butter or egg whites to keep phyllo dough or brik pastry from getting soggy. Meat should rest at least half the cooking time before slicing. Bordeaux is the land of "eau" (water) because its two rivers running through it. Jasmine flowers are more fragrant at night; this is when they are harvested for jasmine extract. Oh, and the incredible, edible egg. I have learned more than I ever thought about this omnipresent ingredient (stay tuned for my interview with a big wig in the egg industry).

There's other things too, like the difference between a royale and a flan; a charlotte and chartreuse; pesto and pistou. I won't bore you with those. All of this learning, practice and more practice culminated in our Superior final exams. First was cuisine…

My grandfather jokes that when they would hand desks out on the first day of school, "Zimmer, Thomas" was always sent into the next room to find one. Zimmers are all too familiar with being last in line. For the cuisine exam, Hugo and I, holding down the bottom of the alpha order of "Group A" were literally sent into the next room. While Arora through Reis were in 1PS (first floor), Simoes and Zimmer were in 2PS (2nd floor) with four other people from Group B. (Notice they even start with Group A…the alphabet really does control a lot!) This is all fine and good, except since day one Group A has been together. We are the Grand Diplome students and our group has principally stayed the same. It was somewhat strange to be in the kitchen on our final exam without Garima to my right, Dimitri to my left and the rest of the crew. 

Everything happens for a reason, of course. Each kitchen is named for an important influence in the history of the school. 2PS happens to be the "Julia Child" room. I never took too much notice of this before, but standing at the door waiting to be let in and hit the ground running, I was staring at the plaque. I smiled and thought the perhaps she was looking down on our little room…

Four hours later, my heart was pounding like there was a bongo in my chest. Four amuse bouche and four main dishes were out the door and on the way to the jury, four chefs from outside LCB. It happened so fast I couldn't even take a photo of my plate. All I have is the photo of the diagram we are required to present:

On the left: eggplant "ravioli": sautéed slices of eggplant stuffed with shallot, confit tomatoes and mushrooms topped with a few drops of lightly whipped cream and roasted red pepper puree, and those tiny red squares are a brunoise of fresh red pepper.

Middle: slices of white and dark meat of roasted guinea fowl over a guinea fowl jus.

Right: a slice of seared duck foie gras wrapped with a thin slice of cantaloupe. On top, a fig stuffed with a stewed spring onion wrapped in phyllo dough on bed of arugula tossed in a light vinaigrette. Finished with a drop of honey over the fig and a drizzle of port reduction. 

The amuse, not pictured : ( , was a puree of white Paimpol beans with ginger, a layer of cilantro lime jelly, topped with salted cantaloupe "caviar" (made with the world's smallest melon baller)

When they took my plates away I felt good. Honestly, I've never felt such pressure and it was a huge releif to see them walk out the door on time! I executed everything the way I planned in my timeline I wrote out the night before. I think (and hope!) it tasted good. Our start and finish times are staggered every 10 minutes so we can present our dishes hot. Of course, I was the last person in Group A to present and leave. I didn't get to see what the rest of my group presented, except for Hugo's. There were no triumphant high-fives or yahoos. Surely, I was glad to be done, but I felt a little sad walking home. Alone. Having not slept well the night before, I just went to my apartment and passed out.

The next morning, Group A was all back together tying on our aprons and donning our hair nets for our pastry final. Our final day in the kitchen. The pastry exam is not staggered like cuisine. The groups start and finish together because nothing needs to be hot. We all talked about how strange yesterday was to be separated (OK, maybe I brought it up!) and that it's nice to finish together on our final final. 

We walked in the room to find Chef Nicolas Bernardé, the head of Pastry and LCB's only MOF. He told us to be done by 2:30p and "bon courage!" Six hours later, without incident or catastrophe, we each stood before a sugar sculpture to present to the jury. 

My sculpture was a orchid growing out of rocks:

close-up of the flower, view from side & back

Before we left, Chef Bernarde gathered us all around and told us that graduation will be hectic with so many people…"and champagne"…so, he wanted to talk to us as a small group. He said enjoyed working with us and to "think back on our first pastry class," taking 3 hours just to make little shortbread cookies.

Garima interjected, "that was with you, Chef!"

"Ohh, you start with me. You finish with me," Chef smirked.

He told us to remember that to be a true artist, we must work with not only our hands, but our head and our heart. And finally, "so you are finish now and maybe you leave Paris. But, you come back. You come here and you say, 'hi, Chef. OK?'" 

"Oui, Chef."

High-fives, hugs and cheers. 

We were done. Nine months together. From rustic vegetable soup to full menus. From shortbread to sugar sculptures.

Cheers, Group A!

Garima, Noor, me, Dimitri, Hugo, Chef, Chris, Helena, Diana & Pedro

Roll the Credits

My favorite part of watching a movie is the very beginning. At night, darkened room, cozy on the couch under a blanket. I love the studio intro shot. The drumbeat of 20th Century Fox. The sunburst behind the Colombia statue. Globe turning to reveal Universal. DreamWorks in the clouds.

Maybe it's because when I was a kid, bedtime on the weekend was "whenever the movie is over." Of course, I never wanted to go to bed, and the very beginning was as far as I would ever be from the inevitable argument, "just half of the next movie…I promise I won't be crabby tomorrow… pleeeeeeaase!"

I rented "Adventures in Babysitting" every weekend when I was little. The strip of blue coming across the screen with a lighting burst to reveal "Touchstone," leading into The Chrystals "And Then He Kissed Me." Those first minutes were filled with so much anticipation. Knowing how much I was going to laugh at Daryl. I couldn't wait to be scared of Handsome John Pruitt's hook. Be annoyed by Brenda and her whining. Sing along with "Babysitting Blues." Ahh…so much ahead.

The last 20 minutes were always the worst. Knowing bedtime was looming. The end was near. Even trying to watch it again the next morning, it was never the same.

Living in Paris has been an experience I will treasure for the rest of my life. I learned so much more than I could have ever imagined about myself, about relationships and friendships. Most of all, I learned that when it's time to take a leap, you have to jump. 

...And, I suppose I'm a better cook.

Anthony, Carolyn, E'Lane and Gillian. How could I have made it without you? I hate to even guess…but surely it would have been a lot less fun. When I get back to the US, if any of you wonder who I am talking about. In a nutshell, meet my friends:

Anthony has usually accomplished more before I wake up than I will all day. He is a sponge; taking notes, re-writing them, noting all the chef's remarks, and blogging about it all. Daily. And fast, fast, fast. He walks fast, runs circles around us in the kitchen and he seems to know a lot about traffic school (hmmm?). He has a wonderful husband who happens to be adorable and hilarious. How Anthony puts up with all of us girls and our drama is a miracle. But we are lucky he does. While my head is in the clouds, he's saved me more than once from being hit by a bus or moving vehicle. A lifesaver, literally!

Carolyn, Carolyn, Carolyn. My very first friend at school. Set up by none other than my mother. My mom came to demo one of first weeks of school, the two of them got to talking and realized we lived near each other. I thought, oh great…just what I need is mom setting me up play dates. Turns out, we hit it off and the rest is history. Carolyn is the first person to text me in the morning…whether it's to laugh about the night before or to conspire about the day's plan. Usually it's a little of both. She is hilarious. Loves her family. And is the kind of friend that will bring you Pierre Herme macaroons to cheer you up when you haven't gotten out of your bathrobe for two days. Our iTunes libraries bear uncanny similarities. We have a lot in common…except she loves ketchup.

E. Lane. Bobo. E'Lane could almost write a book on being a good friend. She has a way of knowing when to say the right thing, or to say nothing at all. The person I can be completely silly with in the backseat of a rental car careening around windy, narrow roads in Italy. The friend who always wants the best for everyone and reminds us to get out of our beaten path and try new things. She is the spiritual one among us, always confident that God has a plan. Even on her worst day, she will always greet you with a smile and hug. She's not afraid of taking a risk, in fashion or in life. The two of us can leave my apartment in the morning setting out to get a cup of coffee, and 8 hours later realize we are on the complete other side of the city. Wandering, chatting, trying new things. 

If Anthony is our head, Carolyn our heart, and E'Lane our spirit…than Gillian is surely our fire. Our Irish lass is closer to home than all of us, so she turns up missing now and again. (We joke that she should just get an apartment next to Charles DeGaulle.) But, she always breezes back into town with a story. Her Irish brogue and idioms keep us rolling. Gill (that's like "Jill" for all us Americans) is the friend you're dying to share news with. She will be happier than you about something exciting or nearly call in a hit with the Irish mob if someone's done you wrong. And if there's ever an idea of a swanky night out in a little black dress, Gill is the first person to hop to and make a reservation at the latest hot spot. The girl with a plan who get's it done. The girl who seeks out passion and is an endless romantic.

How funny that we all decided to start school at Le Cordon Bleu beginning in January 2010 in Paris. How funny we all took the leap at the same time.

Carolyn, me, Anthony, E'Lane & Gill
Superior Student Dinner, August 2010

Yes, this movie is ending. It's a bummer. And while I wish I could say, "one more half before bedtime,"  I guess it's always best to leave wanting more. 

And there's always reunion specials ; )

What chocolate? 

It seems like the chocolate exam was a million years ago, mostly because we had so little time to practice and so much has happened since it's come and gone. I think there is a photo of our groups sculptures together someplace, but I didn't have time to snap one of mine. We had two hours to temper dark chocolate, make a box and a decoration for the top. 

Tempering chocolate is a tedious and, well, temperamental process. You have heat the chocolate over a hot water bath to 45-degrees Celsius, cool it to 27 over an ice bath, and heat it back up to 32. It has to stay between 30-34 the entire time you work with it. This temperature curve manipulates the cocoa butter, the alpha, beta & gamma crystals...blah, blah, blah. A degree or two off, it's ruined. A drop of water, it's ruined. The wind blows the wrong way, it's ruined. (Not really.) Done correctly, the result is a shiny piece of chocolate that has no marbling, resists fingerprints and snaps when you bite into it. It's a messy process and none of my group were blown away by our results. We had just finished our cuisine atelier and didn't have too much left over in the creativity department. Not to mention we only had one session to practice. Alas, it's over and no one made a disaster out of it!

Now, it's full steam ahead with our sugar sculpture and cuisine final exam preparation. For the sugar sculpture, we heat different variations of sugar, water, glucose and tartaric acid to make poured and pulled sugar. The sculpture must include at least one flower with leaves. Working with sugar at these temperatures (over 300-degrees Fahrenheit) is like handling hot lava. Dangerous, yes. We wear gloves to minimize blisters and burns. I feel as though my creative energy is tapped...but I'm trying to come up with something unique to make up for the chocolate bore. To be perfectly honest, I am so distracted by the list for cuisine, it's hard to focus on what kind of flower would wow the jury.

Speaking of the cuisine exam list...it's amazing. Chef Terrien, the "Chef of the Chefs" at LCB--the head honcho--presented the list to us. He said that overall they have been pleased with our group and wanted to create an interesting list from which we will create our menu. The rules are: 4 hours to complete 4 amuse bouche in a shot glass, 4 main dishes and the presentation for each must be identical. The amuse must be vegetarian. The main will have one composed garnish, one simple garnish and one stuffed vegetable. We must write out our recipes, techniques and draw a diagram of our plate to present to the chef, and this must be in French. 

Chef Terrien had a basket full of the ingredients on our list so we could see the general size of everything we will have and talked about each one:

*1 free-range guinea fowl

4 very thin slices of Pancetta

*100 g fresh duck foie gras

1 chicken breast

*300 g hericot vert

*1/2 bunch of new spring onions

*300 g fresh Paimpol white beans

1 red bell pepper

300 g cantaloupe

2 zucchini

2 long eggplants

4 small vine-ripened tomatoes

2 plum tomatoes

*4 fresh figs

150 g cultivated mushrooms

1/2 bunch flat-leaf parsley

1/2 bunch cilantro

1/2 bunch basil

*50 g rocket

50 g ginger root

500 g waxy potatoes

1 lemon

1 lime

phyllo pastry

brick pastry

300 ml chicken stock

grated Gruyere

agar agar

gelatin

white & red wine, Port, Vermouth, basic aeromatic veg, spices, eggs, butter, cream and the regular staples. (*required)

Foie gras, figs, cantaloupe, wow. Even guinea fowl is cool because it's so versatile. The veal tenderloin was great, but as I said before, it's a sin to do anything to it but cook it rosé in beaucoup butter. And that's what most people did. Guinea fowl is more diverse. You have white and dark meat to work with and a lot of different preparations to consider. It will be interesting to see how each of us will treat this bird. 

As for me...lots of ideas but no plans as of yet. I have my meetings with the superior pastry and cuisine chefs on Wednesday. The plan is to have a menu and sculpture ideas set by then so I can get their input.

Brainstorming, research, trial and error. This is it. What we've all been waiting for : )

Merci, Chef

We can all make fun of the French as frog munchers or surrender monkeys. Yeah, they smoke too much and need to learn how to use a pooper-scooper. But in August, you eat your words. The entire country goes on holiday. Many restaurants have signs that they will be closed until September. Even the branch of Pierre Herme on Vaugirard is closed.

Our chefs are no exception. (The school is obviously still open in August, so the have rotated their summer vacations since June.) This week marked the last week we would have Bean as he and his family will be traveling for the month of August. This means no Bean for our final exam. No Bean for our graduation ceremony. No smiling face in demo or guiding us in practical…needless to say, we were all very sad to see him go.

Everyone has had a great teacher. That person that really wants you to learn, is rooting for you to do well and isn't just showing up to collect a paycheck. Bean is that for us. As a Chef, he loves exposing us to exotic spices and ingredients, never lets us forget about wine pairings (he is from Burgundy, after all), expects us to walk out with a pressed, clean white uniform after a long day in the kitchen and simply to do our best. Everyone's favorite.

If we have learned nothing else from this man, we have learned how to be an effective leader. "Chef" translates to "chief," after all. He and his wife ran a restaurant before he sold it to teach at LCB. He often talks to us about how to run a brigade. There is the type of chef that is constantly yelling at his staff, always keeping them on edge and afraid. Bean said he worked for chefs like this early in his career, and hated every minute of it. He would always say that it is not necessary to have that kind of atmosphere. Your brigade will respect you if you work hard and lead by example.

That came through everyday in how he treated us. He has high standards and always inspired me to do my best work. To be clean, precise and thoughtful. I wanted to do well not because I was afraid he would yell or embarrass me, but because I didn't want to disappoint him. He was never bothered by a question. Took his time to explain to if something in my dish was lacking, where I could improve and reminds you there's always tomorrow.

There will be a tiny void in the final weeks of school without our Chef Bean. On the flipside, we were lucky to have him as a teacher and as a mentor. This year, he will be competing for the title of Meilleur Ouvrier de France (MOF). This is the highest achievement for a French chef and it's only awarded once a year. The winners wear red, white and blue stripes on the collar of their chef's coat to denote the honor for the rest of their life. Kind of like how "Academy Award winning actor" precedes an actor's name forever after winning an Oscar, so too with the MOF title. It's a very big deal. I wish him the very best and hope the next time I see him he will be sporting the stripes!

Bonne vacance and merci, Chef.

Chef and our Superior Cuisine group after our last demo together.

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!