Category: Blog (Page 6 of 30)

…….Lujah! Now be honest. What did you think I was gonna’ say? Hee Hee!! Emerging from the storm of WEEK 6, we entered the relative calm of Chef Meyer’ Baking 101. In the culinary world, a wee rivalry exists between those who are patisseurs and those who are not. Was I excited about it? Not really; but I kept an open mind, and again, it opened my eyes.

My approach to baking was rather odd: I told myself I would undertake this unknown application with a sense of comfort. Color me happy! This is exactly what I found; not to mention the joy of the rediscovery of playing with dough! The ovens were humming, timers quietly dinged, and it brought to mind the serenity of my mothers’ Christmas kitchen.

Every morning I prepared a batch of French dough; precisely measuring, mixing, fermenting, punching, dividing, and pre shaping into boules. It was a bit nerve racking at first, but once I became familiar with the process and how it should look and feel, it was the quiet solace that started my day. I’d lay my boules on the baking sheet to put them to rest in the walk in, but before I cater wrapped and tucked them away, I’d give them a little pat of reassurance. If done properly, they are as smooth as a babies butt!!

My finished baguettes didn’t shape up the way they were supposed to; but hey, we all have our skills. So, you can imagine me getting my freak on when I pulled my Challah from the oven, see picture above, as I jumped up and down, pointed and quietly sang the chorus to a Gwen Stefani song. (Admit it, that’s what you thought I was going to say!)

Random thoughts by Heidi. Although I’m the first one to jump on a BuzzFeed quiz to ascertain things like which historical figure I would have been; or, what comprises my ‘ideal’ soul mate; and, of course, the overwhelming urge to know what my stripper name would be; I’ve never ‘shared’ them. But this was just too apropos not to post.

In your past life, people used to call you…. “Spicy”!

– You lived in 18th century France.

– You were a baker with a lot of talent and yes, a very “spicy” personality.

– You were loved by everybody in your town, always there for every party with a few delicious delights and a joke or two.

A baker? I’ll ferment on that one for a while.

I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “Where’s the part where you make yourself look like an idiot?” Not one to disappoint, here ya’ go.

Whilst attempting to free up the greasy clog of buttercream from a 12 star piping tip, my middle finger slipped through the end and, um, got stuck there. In the voice of a very concerned 8 year old, I said, “Chef?” In the end, he had to use my paring knife to pry the barbs apart and release said finger. I asked Chef Meyer if he’d ever had a student do that before. He paused and I said, “It’s okay if you say no.” He shook his head and said, “Nope, that’s a new one.”

Whenever anyone mentions “week 6” within the hallowed halls of Arizona Culinary Institute, you get the feeling that scary movie music and a Vincent Price voiceover are imminent. “So, you ready for WEEK SIX?” “Is it WEEK 6 already?” “God, you look like hell! Oh right, it’s WEEK 6!”

We went through the motions of WEEK 6 with expected trepidation; and, considering I’m such a whack job, more than expected. We were tested and graded every single day. Although Monday in the kitchen was simply the fabrication of a chicken and the construction of a Veloute, it wasn’t so simple as it was crucial to the continuation of our testing for platings on days 2 and 3. So basically, if you screwed it up, you were screwed!

Suffice it to say, Shi’s rendition of “The Patience Song” just before I pulled out my boning knife made all the difference. I took my time, picked a chicken with lots of skin on it and memorized the components and procedure for my sauce. Well, maybe with a little helpful banter from my classmates. My presentations to Chef weren’t all perfect 10’s, but I did my best and that’s good with me. Except for one thing, and this is for you, Ty. EFF CONSUMME!!!

On day 5 of WEEK 6, we were charged with the task of preparing French Omelets for 60 with sides of fruit, caramelized onion hash browns, bacon, sausage and salsa. As much as I adore preparing a meal for family and friends; nothing compares to the rush of working a line with a solid team and getting it done! We bantered, we sang song snippets, and fist bumped all day long! Chef was proud of us and that was the best bit of all.

Escoffier gave us the brigade system and our Captain worked hard to instill that sense of cohesiveness and team work in his Cereal Killers. More importantly, he gave us the liberty to be ourselves, to be creative, to express and fuel our passion. We 7 are all very different people from very different walks of life. But our love of food and dedication were one and the same. He was an amazing teacher and mentor, and will continue to be the lethithin that binds us.  (Yes, I spelled that wrong on purpose.)

I posted a pic of myself cleaning an oven on our last day and a childhood friend remarked, “You look like your 20!” Considering it was WEEK 6, that’s a helluva compliment. At the end of that day, I felt every inch my calendar age and then some. However, the youthful vibration and energy which emanates throughout those hallowed halls of ACI keeps me young at heart and if that shows through in a big ass smile whilst on the floor, cleaning an oven with steel wool, I’ll take that 20!!!

If I have to nappe a demi sauce in the next few months, it will be too soon. Weeks four and five took us into the mesmerizing macrocosm of meat and poultry. As much as I love a demi based condiment, the process of seasoning, tasting, seasoning and then tasting, tasting, and tasting again became a bit much. Nappe is the art of having the proper texture to lightly coat foods, not to mention getting you a passing grade from your Chef based on his scientistic and subjective palate.

At the end of the week, our last dish to present as an eye of round roulade style and a sauce, demi nappe. My mouth was worn out and I just couldn’t feel it. While presenting to Chef and he says something like, you’ve got 10 more minutes, reduce the shit out of this!  Nope!  I’ll take the 8. He then says, “I guess you’re just demied out!” Yep!  It’s pronounced (nap eh), which is so much more than appropriate. Demi sauces are food coma thus eliciting the question, “Looks like you’re ready for a nap, eh?”

We fabricated chickens; trimmed and pounded beef; prepared pork schnitzel with a poached egg, which rocked my world! We were all over the seafood in week 4; THAT was interesting. A few classmates were turning a little green whilst gutting their flounder, so I suggested they breathe through their mouths and cover up the viscera with a paper towel. We shucked some oysters (fun) and some clams (not fun); deveined shrimp; filleted a salmon and a seabass, and watched Chef demo a lobster. At least we didn’t have to do a demi. Hell to the yea!!

We are now gearing up for our last week of basics and I’m freaking out! Not so much on the written exams and practicals, (still studying my ass off), but for the anxiousness that’s hitting me hard as we prepare to bid adieu to our Captain and split into two separate groups for the remainder of our journey at ACI. On our first day of school Chef Macc said, “You’ll never forget me!” How right he is! Your Bascis Instructor becomes indelibly imprinted in your mind and heart ~ you take them with you always. He knows how we feel and has professed his adoration of us as a team and individuals.

With that, he’s upped his Maccism game to keep everyone light and smiley. Discussing the difference between roasting and baking (there isn’t any); Chef says, “Yea, I’m gonna’ roast my cookies today.” Out of the blue, “I think crabs taught me how to scream!” Finally, Tucson was mopping the floor and Chef stands in front of her and blurts, “I can lick harder than that!” Brought us to tears and we love him for it. Thank you, Chef!

When Chef told us that we’d be studying about and making sauces last week, you couldn’t slap the smile off my face or stop me from immediately opening my book to Chapter 8. Well, maybe not THAT much of a freak, but I did impart to our Captain that if he thought I had asked a lot of questions before, just wait until we delved into this little market basket.

I think it seriously kicks ass that in a mostly male dominated profession, the fact that the most elemental components (in my opinion) of cooking are the MOTHER sauces!  From the mother sauces come baby sauces, or small sauces ~ and they are soooo much fun! In case you’re interested, the mother sauces are: Bechamel, Espagnole, Tomato, Hollandaise, Veloute and Demi.  The easy way to remember these is a little phrase that goes thus:  BETH has VD.  We weren’t taught that Demi-Glace is a mother sauce, but it wouldn’t be funny or memorable if Beth only had V.

I LOVE SAUCES!  So basically, I was pretty much jumping up and down and pointing last week.  We made a brown stock and a white stock and then went to town!  The aromas emanating from the Basics Kitchen perfumed the entire school.  It’s like when you open the front door and get that first whiff of your moms’ spaghetti.  From these stocks we made those aforementioned MOTHER sauces which we transformed into Supremes and Allamendes, Marchand de Vin, Sauce Robert and Chasseur.  To our Bechamel we added sauteed onion for a Soubise and oodles of cheese for a Mornay.  How can we forget our Hollandaisse and Bernaise.  All I ate when I got home from school was fiber. God help me!!

It would be sacriligious not to mention the fact that from these beautifully prepared stocks come even more beautiful soups!  The race for my adoration between soups and sauces is neck and neck. Imaginary pots of stock sit on my shoulders and whisper “Make me into a soup!” “Make me into a Sauce!” They can be so irritating. However, as much as I adore those MOTHERS, I don’t think “Into the Sauce” would have been a good name for my company. Hits a little too close to home, if you know what I mean.  So, guess what we get to play with next? Chapter 9 ~ Understanding Soups!  God help Chef Macc!!

Week 2 began with a massive respiratory infection. Ugh!! Washing my hands became ‘Monkish’ and I was constantly spraying the elbow area of my Chef coat with disinfectant. Cold medication and I are less than copacetic. It made for some interesting conversation; I pulled back on my salt content and brought a bottle of AirBorne for my fellow students.

When one spends a considerable amount of time with a small group of individuals, you can either love it or um, not love it. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m totally diggin’ it. A kitchen needs to be cohesive to function at its best; and although we are all on our own separate journey, we are a team and a good one.

Personalities are emerging as we get more comfortable with each other and Chef Maccherola is an absolute hoot. I’ve started keeping a log of what I call, “Maccisms”. His one liners are epic and he is a self-proclaimed blurter; an attribute we share. Example: When we queried about the use of lye, Chef blurts, “I like to bury dead people in it!” Or, out of the blue, “I used to eat 6 ding dongs a day!” I haven’t laughed so hard or had so much fun in ages. And yes, this is culinary school.

I was talking with Tucson (Chef nicknamed her that ~ it stuck) and she said, “I really love the culinary part of everything, but I can’t imagine skinning something.” I lost it. Angel started out pretty much angelic; operative word being ‘started’. She’s a very soft spoken, teeny little thing. When asked why she was attending ACI she expressed in a voice barely above a whisper, “I just like to cook.” Even though she still speaks softly, Angel has surfaced as our resident, dry humored, smart ass. Awesome!! She actually challenged Chef Macc to a piping contest.

Okay, here’s that French thing again. Much of our culinary vernacular originates from those guys across the pond and the pronunciation of such can be challenging. Many who know me well call me the ‘grammar girl’ and that extends to proper diction. I get kind of squirmy unless I correct it. Poissonier (pwah so nyay) does not have an ‘r’ sound attached at the end, it even says so in our 8 inch thick book. Neither does Garde Manger, Entremetier or Saucier. I consulted Chef Rigolet (no “T”) and he explained that it’s a matter of the masculine versus the feminine in the French language and he suggested that it’s best to keep it all in one gender. Let’s just say that whenever Chef comes across one of these terms, he rolls his eyes, looks at me and allows me to enunciate. Yes, I’m that annoying.

My cold is much better and rest assured I sanitized all my uniforms. However, on Thursday I was on so many drugs I could barely think. Case in point: Chef was demonstrating a metal ravioli template and he said, “So, what do you think the most important aspect of this tool is?” With all seriousness and a straight face I blurted, “You can put it in the dishwasher.” He rolled his eyes, threw out a one liner and we all lost it.

Does anyone know where I can get a standalone hard drive for my brain? Holy crap! Yes, they say that the gray matter contained in the cranium is a sponge; however, it does come in various shapes, sizes and capacities to absorb. If I put my hands on either side of my head and squeeze, culinary terminology starts gushing out of my mouth.

Week one of Basics was an absolute blast!! There are only 6 of us: Shi, Ty, Angel, X, Tucson and me. Our instructor, Chef Macc, imparts his vast knowledge with enthusiasm, understanding and a self-deprecating humor that puts us plebes at ease and affords us the ability to ask questions with confidence and voice our opinions. He is the pectin that binds us. There is a comfortable cohesiveness between this intelligent and extremely intuitive group of individuals. We’re even considering adopting a team name ~ Captain Crunch and the Cereal Killers.

At the end of our first day, Chef was taking us through the kitchen pointing out familiar and unfamiliar pieces of equipment: bain marie, marmite, offset spat, rondeaux, chinois, tilting skillet, French knife, mandolin, pots, pans, spoons, ladles….Aggh!! I have to stop squeezing my head. Anyhoo, with good reason and foresight, he saved the best for last, handing out our knife kits. It’s like opening your favorite birthday present, turning it over and over, pulling it apart, putting it back together and giving it a name. In short, he would have lost us completely. Can you say “food geeks”?

Random thoughts by Heidi: Who in their right mind came up with the crazy idea to square up food products that are anything but square; then precisely and painstakingly cut them into shapes and sizes with names like brunoise, julienne, and battonet? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure it was those guys from France. God love ‘em.

Speaking of the French; on day 3 I was in the HUB with our team taking a snack break and I got up from the table and said, “I’m off to ‘place’”. This is short for mise en place, which means everything in its place. Chef Rigollet, (yes, he’s French), stopped me in my tracks and politely said, “It’s mise en place. If you’re going to use the terminology, use it correctly.” The next morning, he brought me a detailed, handwritten outline. He said he gave it to me because he wants me to succeed. It resides in my knife kit and I will cherish it forever.

Culinary school is humbling. There is so much to learn. If you don’t pack a big ol’ bag of humility in said knife kit, you won’t make it. Case in point ~ the fundamentals of mise en place that should have taken up uber space in my private little spongeville went missing. On day 5, I got cocky. I completed my marinade and prepped my veg for the grill; then, I large diced my root vegetables, made the glaze and got them in the oven. I figured I could start my braised red cabbage and catch up dicing the onion and apple as my bacon rendered. NOT! I got behind and screwed it up. Reaching into my kit, I pulled out a handful of humility and admitted my error to our Captain. He listened intently, gave me some insightful advice on discipline and said, “Good learn.” “Yes, Chef!”