Jean-Louis Palladin was the French chef that re-invented and re-introduced French food to Americans. At twenty eight, he became the youngest chef in France to earn two Michilin starts. Soon after, in 1979, he ventured over to the USA and opened Jean-Louis at the Watergate in Washington DC. This joint put DC on the food map - some say when the restaurant opened, it became the first time the importance of gastronomy surpassed politics in Washington. Jean-Louis' kitchen spit out many of today's best including Daniel Boulud and Eric Ripert. Again, Ripert and Boulud. I mean, c'mon, those guys are good - really, really good. For a kitchen to develop just one of the pair would mean it to be amazing. Jean-Louis' place turned out both of them.
Jean-Louis' influence on sourcing food in America is unparalleled. He was fully committed to sourcing quality foods from people who understood the food. If he couldn't find what he was looking for, he convinced someone to start growing, feeding or fishing for it. Today, there are fisherman in Maine who run lucrative baby eel businesses; Jean-Louis was the one who convinced them to fish for those things. He convinced farmers to plant whatever he wanted and to grow it however he wanted. He taught ranchers how to raise better tasting poultry, veal and pork.
This man fiercely and passionately loved food. Jean-Louis and Head of Everything were buddies, of course. The Head of Everything told us stories about Jean-Louis, including his truffle season ritual; apparently, every year at the start of the season, Jean-Louis would order hundreds of pounds of truffles and store them in a giant, 5 foot tall snifter at the front of the restaurant. If a diner wanted extra truffle, all they needed to do was walk over to the snifter and pull one out. "Ehe was jenerhous to a falt. Ol ehe wanted to du whas feed peepul delichous fuud, no mattur what zhe caust to ehm." This guy made no money. Simply he was not interested in making a living, only in making incredible food.
Jean-Louis died of lung cancer in 2001. It was provoking to listen to the Head of Everything lecture about his friend - he was very sad, but smiled whenever he spoke Jean-Louis' name. It was our best lecture yet. How inspiring and compelling to learn of a predecessor who's intentions were pure. How interesting our world would be if everyone selflessly gave to their talent and passion like Jean-Louis.
A French classic, in honor of the French great:
LA NOIX DE SAINT JACQUES GRILLEE with LE BEURRE BLANC
Ingredients
2-3 Large Dry Scallops (per person)
1 1/2 c. White Wine
1 Shallot, minced
1 Bay Leaf
1 Tsp. Peppercorns
1 Lemon, juiced
1 1/2 c. cream
1/4 lb. butter, cut into small pieces
Methods
-To make the Beurre Blanc, put wine, shallot, bay leaf and peppercorns in a saucepan over a medium heat and simmer for about 10 minutes
-Turn the heat to low and add the lemon juice and cream to the wine reduction
-Over the low heat, whisk the butter into the sauce in three batches
-Strain the sauce and hold it over a low, low heat at a warm temperature, stirring often (since this sauce is an emulsion, if you don't hold it warm it will break)
-Season the scallops liberally with salt, pepper and coat with a little olive oil
-Heat a grill pan on high heat until it is very hot
-Sear the scallops on the grill pan - do NOT force the scallop off the grill pan to turn it - when it is ready to be turned, it will easily lift from the grill pan
-Do not overcook the scallops - they should be slightly translucent in the center (about 2-3 minutes on each side)
-Spoon Beurre Blanc onto plate and place grilled scallops ontop of sauce
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Day Twenty
The Head of Everything proudly explained, "In Frahnce, we hav a compeetitshun for evrheething. Eef you whant to nou eef you ahre zee best pastrhee chef, zhere is a compeetishun. Eef you whant to nou eff you ahre zee best plumur, zhere is a compeetishun - ahnd zo on, ahnd zo on. Zhis is because zee French ahre zee mhost competeetive peepul in zee wurld. Whee zimply must be zhe best."
The French prepare themselves for these ridiculous competitions by attending school, for years and years, where they perfect a select skill. In fact, completion of these rigorous programs is required if one wants to make a living - licenses are only granted to those who successfully graduate.
For the culinary world, these schooling requirements are a gift. France is the only country in the world where one can walk into a bread bakery (or a "Boulangere") and be absolutely certain they are purchasing bread made by a master. The same goes for a pastry shop (or "Pattissiere"), a veal, lamb and beef butcher shop (or "Bouchererie") and a pork butcher shop (or "Charcuterie"). Apparently you will be hard pressed to find an American style bakery in France since the owner would need both a baking (4 years) and a pastry (another 4 years) degree. Remarkable, isn't it? Do you want to be a doctor - or a pastry/bread maker?
Today we made one of the best desserts yet - LES FRUITES AU SABAYON. Eating fresh, un-creamed, un-sugared, un-buttered fruit was an incredible break from the assault of heavy concoctions we've endured over the last few weeks. Not only is this yummy, its easy and something different.
LES FRUITES AU SABAYON
Ingredients
Fresh Fruit (berries, melon, and tropical fruits work well)
4 egg yolks
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. heavy cream (it is inescapable)
1/2 c. sherry or marsala wine (I used rum, so use your imagination here)
Methods
-Combine the sugar and wine in a small saucepan - bring to a boil until lots of foam appears and a simple syrup begins to form
-Whisk the egg yolks at high speed in a mixer fitted with a whisk attachment
-When the yolks are light in color, whisk in the hot syrup mixture
-Be careful to pour the syrup into the mixing bowl slowly and so it hits the side of the bowl (if poured directly into the moving whisk, it will cool quickly and crystallize)
-Whip heavy cream until stiff
-Fold whipped cream into yolk/syrup mixture
-Spoon the sabayon over the fresh fruit - be generous
-Put the sabayon coated fruit under the broiler (or use a blowtorch) until sabayon is browned
-Serve immediately
The French prepare themselves for these ridiculous competitions by attending school, for years and years, where they perfect a select skill. In fact, completion of these rigorous programs is required if one wants to make a living - licenses are only granted to those who successfully graduate.
For the culinary world, these schooling requirements are a gift. France is the only country in the world where one can walk into a bread bakery (or a "Boulangere") and be absolutely certain they are purchasing bread made by a master. The same goes for a pastry shop (or "Pattissiere"), a veal, lamb and beef butcher shop (or "Bouchererie") and a pork butcher shop (or "Charcuterie"). Apparently you will be hard pressed to find an American style bakery in France since the owner would need both a baking (4 years) and a pastry (another 4 years) degree. Remarkable, isn't it? Do you want to be a doctor - or a pastry/bread maker?
Today we made one of the best desserts yet - LES FRUITES AU SABAYON. Eating fresh, un-creamed, un-sugared, un-buttered fruit was an incredible break from the assault of heavy concoctions we've endured over the last few weeks. Not only is this yummy, its easy and something different.
LES FRUITES AU SABAYON
Ingredients
Fresh Fruit (berries, melon, and tropical fruits work well)
4 egg yolks
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. heavy cream (it is inescapable)
1/2 c. sherry or marsala wine (I used rum, so use your imagination here)
Methods
-Combine the sugar and wine in a small saucepan - bring to a boil until lots of foam appears and a simple syrup begins to form
-Whisk the egg yolks at high speed in a mixer fitted with a whisk attachment
-When the yolks are light in color, whisk in the hot syrup mixture
-Be careful to pour the syrup into the mixing bowl slowly and so it hits the side of the bowl (if poured directly into the moving whisk, it will cool quickly and crystallize)
-Whip heavy cream until stiff
-Fold whipped cream into yolk/syrup mixture
-Spoon the sabayon over the fresh fruit - be generous
-Put the sabayon coated fruit under the broiler (or use a blowtorch) until sabayon is browned
-Serve immediately
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Weekend Assistant Gig
As a culinary student, one of the greatest things I've been doing is volunteering to assist chefs at big-time culinary events. Not only do these events provide for excellent networking, but they provide a better idea of what chef-hood is like outside of the classroom, in real kitchens, with real deadlines.
I arrived at the event location, a swanky, historic hotel around 11:00am. The event was an exclusive wine tasting accompanied by appetizers made by the worlds biggest and brightest chefs. Upon arrival, I was escorted into the hotel's massive kitchen. As I walked through the swinging double doors into the underbelly of the hotel, I spotted one. "Oh my god," I thought, "I'm in the same kitchen as (insert name of famous chef)!" Then, I spotted another. And another. They were hiding in walk-ins, behind speed racks and camouflaged by steam and smoke. They were EVERYWHERE. There were old-time classics, modern renegades and celebrity types from the food network - all in the same kitchen. So cool. It was equivalent to being a groupie backstage with the Beatles, the Temptations, Aerosmith and the Jonas Brothers, all at the same time.
I felt bad for the executive chef of the hotel. Can you imagine having your turf invaded by the industry's best, many with major egos, who pillage your space and equipment without a care? It didn't help that this was one of the most disgusting kitchens I've ever seen, and people were talking about it. Roach City.
I got assigned to an industry veteran, who started his career in Chicago, trained some of Chicago's finest in his kitchen, and then moved to Hawaii to start a haute dog joint. Love him.
The most uneasy moment of the night came when I needed to steal tongs from one of my fav chefs. I was desperate. And, I simply couldn't let my boss-of-the-moment down. As soon as I saw this chef disappear into the walk-in, I swooped over to her station and swiped the tongs under my apron. It felt so wrong, but so right. Another chef, who witnessed the entire tong-napping smiled at me and shot me a thumbs up.
My chef was serving kobe beef and lobster hot dogs. The lobster dog was delicious - topped with a squirt of wasabi mayonnaise, julienned banana peppers, and a dollop of neon green, chunky goo. Guess what the goo was?! "What else," Haute Dog Dude said, "Chicago relish." He imports that stuff to Hawaii. As a born and bread Windy City girl, nothing made me happier.
Service began around 6:30pm. I was stationed at a hot stove, over a giant pot of 170 degree water, heating hot dogs. Totally unglamourous, but it could have been worse. Haute Dog Dude was about to head to the ballroom and leave me to tend the dogs, when his old employee walked up. There were hugs, handshakes and smiles. Apparently this guy began his career working for Haute Dog Dude and has since become executive chef/owner of three successful joints. Um, can you say chef crush? As I explained to my fiance, its similar to the crush he had on Manon Rheaume when she made it to the NHL.
This guy was good looking, accomplished, super nice, and making muffins. Just picture it, an eye pleasing, successful, nice-guy chef pouring batter into muffin cups, right next to me and my wieners.
"I have to head upstairs for a second, can you watch these muffins for me?"
"Um, oh yeah, sure. No problem," I replied, while tongging three hot dogs at once, (I was trying to do something impressive). He left, and the muffins became my mission. I kept checking the oven, adjusting the temperature, and even pulled them out a few times and stuck a knife in the center to see if they were done. Suddenly I heard a voice..... "I zink they wil kook fahstur eef you juhst leave them alone." I turned around and there he was, my favorite little French man, smirking at me at my obvious overattentiveness. I forgot, The Chef was slotted for an after dinner VIP cooking demo. "Ahs soon ahs you ahre dun weeth your little muffinz and sawsages, come and give me a hand, yah?"
"Yes, chef," I replied.
I arrived at the event location, a swanky, historic hotel around 11:00am. The event was an exclusive wine tasting accompanied by appetizers made by the worlds biggest and brightest chefs. Upon arrival, I was escorted into the hotel's massive kitchen. As I walked through the swinging double doors into the underbelly of the hotel, I spotted one. "Oh my god," I thought, "I'm in the same kitchen as (insert name of famous chef)!" Then, I spotted another. And another. They were hiding in walk-ins, behind speed racks and camouflaged by steam and smoke. They were EVERYWHERE. There were old-time classics, modern renegades and celebrity types from the food network - all in the same kitchen. So cool. It was equivalent to being a groupie backstage with the Beatles, the Temptations, Aerosmith and the Jonas Brothers, all at the same time.
I felt bad for the executive chef of the hotel. Can you imagine having your turf invaded by the industry's best, many with major egos, who pillage your space and equipment without a care? It didn't help that this was one of the most disgusting kitchens I've ever seen, and people were talking about it. Roach City.
I got assigned to an industry veteran, who started his career in Chicago, trained some of Chicago's finest in his kitchen, and then moved to Hawaii to start a haute dog joint. Love him.
The most uneasy moment of the night came when I needed to steal tongs from one of my fav chefs. I was desperate. And, I simply couldn't let my boss-of-the-moment down. As soon as I saw this chef disappear into the walk-in, I swooped over to her station and swiped the tongs under my apron. It felt so wrong, but so right. Another chef, who witnessed the entire tong-napping smiled at me and shot me a thumbs up.
My chef was serving kobe beef and lobster hot dogs. The lobster dog was delicious - topped with a squirt of wasabi mayonnaise, julienned banana peppers, and a dollop of neon green, chunky goo. Guess what the goo was?! "What else," Haute Dog Dude said, "Chicago relish." He imports that stuff to Hawaii. As a born and bread Windy City girl, nothing made me happier.
Service began around 6:30pm. I was stationed at a hot stove, over a giant pot of 170 degree water, heating hot dogs. Totally unglamourous, but it could have been worse. Haute Dog Dude was about to head to the ballroom and leave me to tend the dogs, when his old employee walked up. There were hugs, handshakes and smiles. Apparently this guy began his career working for Haute Dog Dude and has since become executive chef/owner of three successful joints. Um, can you say chef crush? As I explained to my fiance, its similar to the crush he had on Manon Rheaume when she made it to the NHL.
This guy was good looking, accomplished, super nice, and making muffins. Just picture it, an eye pleasing, successful, nice-guy chef pouring batter into muffin cups, right next to me and my wieners.
"I have to head upstairs for a second, can you watch these muffins for me?"
"Um, oh yeah, sure. No problem," I replied, while tongging three hot dogs at once, (I was trying to do something impressive). He left, and the muffins became my mission. I kept checking the oven, adjusting the temperature, and even pulled them out a few times and stuck a knife in the center to see if they were done. Suddenly I heard a voice..... "I zink they wil kook fahstur eef you juhst leave them alone." I turned around and there he was, my favorite little French man, smirking at me at my obvious overattentiveness. I forgot, The Chef was slotted for an after dinner VIP cooking demo. "Ahs soon ahs you ahre dun weeth your little muffinz and sawsages, come and give me a hand, yah?"
"Yes, chef," I replied.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Day Nineteen
Since I started school, the size of my ass has been a primary concern. Taste the hollandaise! Try this French butter! The pastry class has brought pound cake samples! Actually, many of my classmates have lost weight (not me, of course)! Running around a hot kitchen for eight hours obliterates calories.
Today, however, no one lost any weight.
The Menu:
L’ALLUMETTE AU FROMAGE
Puff Pastry filled with Mornay Sauce
L’ESCALOPE DE VEAU VIENNOISE
Veal Scaloppini with Browned Butter
LE GRATIN DAUPHINOIS
Potato Gratin
LE MILLEFEUILLE
Napoleons
I couldn't get enough of the L’Allumette Au Fromage – think croissant filled with cheesy goodness. It was the first time we made béchamel, another mother sauce. Béchamel is generally the base sauce in all heart-attack foods such as alfredo, macaroni and cheese, hot dips and bisque. Mornay is made by thickening the béchamel with additional roux (butter and flour) and then adding cheese.
I tried to make up for the indulgent lunch by volunteering for floor duty. Mopping is the worst cleanup job in town. Even scrubbing stove burners is preferred. Hurling a wet and smelly head of knarly cotton strings back and forth with hopes of sopping up unrecognizable sticky splotches of spill is the pits. If you’re ever in a position to fill a mop bucket from a mop sink, beware of the hot water tap. You MUST turn it on with a towel, otherwise you’ll suffer a serious burn. And the hot water that comes out – look out. I’ve been taking advantage of the steamy spicket with thirty second facials, but that perk is hardly makes up for the massages I’ll be purchasing to fix my lower back from too much mopping motion.
This is a good, blunder proof recipe that can accompany any dinner.
Potatoes Gratin
Ingredients
3-4 Idaho Potatoes
1 c. Cream
1 c. Milk
1 tsp. Nutmeg
2 cloves Garlic, smashed
½ c. Cheese
Salt and Pepper
Slice the potatoes into thin chips on mandolin. This can also be done by hand if you don’t have a mandolin. Combine the cream, milk, nutmeg, garlic and season with salt and pepper. Soak slices in the cream mixture for five minutes. Butter a baking dish, a round 8” dish woks well. Line the dish with layers of potatoes until dish is full to brim. Top with cheese. Strain cream mixture and pour into dish until full. Cover and bake at 325 degrees until potatoes tender and custard is set –about 30 minutes. Remove cover and brown.
Today, however, no one lost any weight.
The Menu:
L’ALLUMETTE AU FROMAGE
Puff Pastry filled with Mornay Sauce
L’ESCALOPE DE VEAU VIENNOISE
Veal Scaloppini with Browned Butter
LE GRATIN DAUPHINOIS
Potato Gratin
LE MILLEFEUILLE
Napoleons
I couldn't get enough of the L’Allumette Au Fromage – think croissant filled with cheesy goodness. It was the first time we made béchamel, another mother sauce. Béchamel is generally the base sauce in all heart-attack foods such as alfredo, macaroni and cheese, hot dips and bisque. Mornay is made by thickening the béchamel with additional roux (butter and flour) and then adding cheese.
I tried to make up for the indulgent lunch by volunteering for floor duty. Mopping is the worst cleanup job in town. Even scrubbing stove burners is preferred. Hurling a wet and smelly head of knarly cotton strings back and forth with hopes of sopping up unrecognizable sticky splotches of spill is the pits. If you’re ever in a position to fill a mop bucket from a mop sink, beware of the hot water tap. You MUST turn it on with a towel, otherwise you’ll suffer a serious burn. And the hot water that comes out – look out. I’ve been taking advantage of the steamy spicket with thirty second facials, but that perk is hardly makes up for the massages I’ll be purchasing to fix my lower back from too much mopping motion.
This is a good, blunder proof recipe that can accompany any dinner.
Potatoes Gratin
Ingredients
3-4 Idaho Potatoes
1 c. Cream
1 c. Milk
1 tsp. Nutmeg
2 cloves Garlic, smashed
½ c. Cheese
Salt and Pepper
Slice the potatoes into thin chips on mandolin. This can also be done by hand if you don’t have a mandolin. Combine the cream, milk, nutmeg, garlic and season with salt and pepper. Soak slices in the cream mixture for five minutes. Butter a baking dish, a round 8” dish woks well. Line the dish with layers of potatoes until dish is full to brim. Top with cheese. Strain cream mixture and pour into dish until full. Cover and bake at 325 degrees until potatoes tender and custard is set –about 30 minutes. Remove cover and brown.
Day Eighteen
Chef was on vacation, so The Chef, who is the school’s program director, advanced instructor and an Iron Chef champ (he beat Cat Cora) filled in. Holy smokes. We’ve got it coming.
He and the Head of Everything are perfect compliments. The Head of Everything is reserved, stoic, large and in charge, while The Chef is fast paced, witty and defines Napoleon Complex. Like the Head of Everything, there is something charming about this little, French man.
“Ohkay, shood we start, yah? Lehtz go My Coreneeshun! Seet down, get reahdhee ahnd we go!” His lecture was quick and full of important, practical information. “Eeef I hav all deez potaytoe peelz in a restrhant, I tell the deeshwashur to fry dem, add a leetle salt and we suurv at dee bar no sharge. Zee custoemhur think zhey geet something for frhee - huh huh huh! But reehly we jhust geeve them salty food and zee bar zales increase twentee purscent!”
We exited lecture, happy with the advanced instruction we will soon receive (about eight weeks from now). We were eager to get into the kitchen and show The Chef our stuff. Turns out, we’ve got no stuff.
“Whut the el are you duing?”
“Who taut you to old a nife dis way?”
“Did I do dis in lectur? No! Do it aghan.”
“Enjhoy your claases now yah? You ahre in cluhb med compahaired to my claas!”
His crowning moment of craziness occurred about one half hour prior to lunch service. One station, not mine (thank god) was hoarding dirty pots and pans all over their counter because they simply didn’t have time to get over to the dishwasher. “What the el? (His favorite question) What is dis? I tell you what it is….a disastur!” He walked over to the counter, stuck out his arm, and swiped the counter clean as though the dirty dishes, utensils and prepared food were droplets on a windshield. The kitchen turned silent. He continued, “Ohkay My Corneeshun we surve in twentee fhive minute! Lets go!” as though nothing had just happened.
Thank god for Mama. One of my favorite gals got flustered upon learning she needed re-make her éclair batter, for a third time. Mama and I were standing next to her when she started to….tear up. Mama put her hand on her shoulder, “No sad. I help you do again. If you work in rehrant and hav sad, you alway go to batroom. Never sad in fron of chef. You unerstand?”
Eclairs
Ingredients
Pastry Crème (see Day
1 c. Milk
4 oz. Butter, cut into small pieces
7 oz. All Purpose Flour
1 tsp. Salt
4-5 eggs
Heat the butter and milk together over a medium heat. Stir occasionally to ensure milk does not burn. When the milk and butter mixture just comes to a boil, quickly dump all the flour and salt into the pot at one time. Immediately begin stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon over the heat. Stir until the mixture comes together to form a dough, called Panade. Do not let it burn by stirring constantly for about 1-2 minutes.
Put the dough into a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Turn the mixer on and off every 30 seconds to cool the dough. Once somewhat cool, begin adding the eggs, one at a time. Do not add another egg until the previous egg is fully incorporated. Enough eggs have been added when the batter forms very soft peaks (4 ½ eggs usually does the trick, however it depends how long you dry out the Panade over the heat).
Fill a piping bag (or large freezer bag) with the batter and pipe into éclair shapes on a parchment lined sheet try. Apply egg wash. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes or until puffy and golden brown. Turn down the oven to 325 degrees and continue to bake to dry out the center of the éclairs (about 8 minutes).
When cool, put two holes in the bottom of the éclairs, one to use for filling and the other to allow air to release as pastry cream fills the cavity. Pipe pastry cream into the éclair. Top with powdered sugar (we haven’t learned chocolate fondant icing yet, sorry!)
He and the Head of Everything are perfect compliments. The Head of Everything is reserved, stoic, large and in charge, while The Chef is fast paced, witty and defines Napoleon Complex. Like the Head of Everything, there is something charming about this little, French man.
“Ohkay, shood we start, yah? Lehtz go My Coreneeshun! Seet down, get reahdhee ahnd we go!” His lecture was quick and full of important, practical information. “Eeef I hav all deez potaytoe peelz in a restrhant, I tell the deeshwashur to fry dem, add a leetle salt and we suurv at dee bar no sharge. Zee custoemhur think zhey geet something for frhee - huh huh huh! But reehly we jhust geeve them salty food and zee bar zales increase twentee purscent!”
We exited lecture, happy with the advanced instruction we will soon receive (about eight weeks from now). We were eager to get into the kitchen and show The Chef our stuff. Turns out, we’ve got no stuff.
“Whut the el are you duing?”
“Who taut you to old a nife dis way?”
“Did I do dis in lectur? No! Do it aghan.”
“Enjhoy your claases now yah? You ahre in cluhb med compahaired to my claas!”
His crowning moment of craziness occurred about one half hour prior to lunch service. One station, not mine (thank god) was hoarding dirty pots and pans all over their counter because they simply didn’t have time to get over to the dishwasher. “What the el? (His favorite question) What is dis? I tell you what it is….a disastur!” He walked over to the counter, stuck out his arm, and swiped the counter clean as though the dirty dishes, utensils and prepared food were droplets on a windshield. The kitchen turned silent. He continued, “Ohkay My Corneeshun we surve in twentee fhive minute! Lets go!” as though nothing had just happened.
Thank god for Mama. One of my favorite gals got flustered upon learning she needed re-make her éclair batter, for a third time. Mama and I were standing next to her when she started to….tear up. Mama put her hand on her shoulder, “No sad. I help you do again. If you work in rehrant and hav sad, you alway go to batroom. Never sad in fron of chef. You unerstand?”
Eclairs
Ingredients
Pastry Crème (see Day
1 c. Milk
4 oz. Butter, cut into small pieces
7 oz. All Purpose Flour
1 tsp. Salt
4-5 eggs
Heat the butter and milk together over a medium heat. Stir occasionally to ensure milk does not burn. When the milk and butter mixture just comes to a boil, quickly dump all the flour and salt into the pot at one time. Immediately begin stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon over the heat. Stir until the mixture comes together to form a dough, called Panade. Do not let it burn by stirring constantly for about 1-2 minutes.
Put the dough into a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Turn the mixer on and off every 30 seconds to cool the dough. Once somewhat cool, begin adding the eggs, one at a time. Do not add another egg until the previous egg is fully incorporated. Enough eggs have been added when the batter forms very soft peaks (4 ½ eggs usually does the trick, however it depends how long you dry out the Panade over the heat).
Fill a piping bag (or large freezer bag) with the batter and pipe into éclair shapes on a parchment lined sheet try. Apply egg wash. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes or until puffy and golden brown. Turn down the oven to 325 degrees and continue to bake to dry out the center of the éclairs (about 8 minutes).
When cool, put two holes in the bottom of the éclairs, one to use for filling and the other to allow air to release as pastry cream fills the cavity. Pipe pastry cream into the éclair. Top with powdered sugar (we haven’t learned chocolate fondant icing yet, sorry!)
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Days Sixteen and Seventeen
Our first written and practical tests have arrived.
Pages and pages of short answer questions such as "Describe the method to make Pate Choux" and "List the Ingredients in Frangipane," composed the written exam. For me, the written test exposed exactly how much I had learned over the last three weeks - lots! Physically creating something, over and over and over again, brands it into your brain (or my brain anyway). I admit I studied very little for the written exam, but breezed through it. One down, five to go.
The practical exam was much harder than I anticipated. We had to make Cream Puffs, Hollandaise, Vinaigrette, Rice Pilaf, Tourner Potatoes and craft perfect julienne, brunoise, macedoine and batonnet from carrots. When the test menu was exposed, everyone smiled in satisfaction. Hollandaise? Been there, done that - fifteen times in the last week to be exact. Rice Pilaf? My grandmother makes rice pilaf. We discovered, however, each of these items was deceptively simple. So simple, that an itty bitty mistake became a conspicuous error. There was no way to hide bad flavor behind fresh herbs or crappy knife skills under sauce.
The judges, Mama and Chef, were channeling Gordon Ramsey, minus all the F-bombs. They offered zero positive feedback, only nonconstructive criticism. All in all, I'm pleased with my performance although everything I made needed more salt, and my rice was "thirty seconds undercooked." 30 seconds? Whatever.
Quite frankly, our entire class did pretty well, even the Numero Uno Dummy. Everyone finished on time and no one's Hollandaise broke. Its nice to work with people who are equally motivated, dedicated and generally, capable. This one was a win for The Cornichons (the new loving nickname I've heard the advanced students call our class).
Pages and pages of short answer questions such as "Describe the method to make Pate Choux" and "List the Ingredients in Frangipane," composed the written exam. For me, the written test exposed exactly how much I had learned over the last three weeks - lots! Physically creating something, over and over and over again, brands it into your brain (or my brain anyway). I admit I studied very little for the written exam, but breezed through it. One down, five to go.
The practical exam was much harder than I anticipated. We had to make Cream Puffs, Hollandaise, Vinaigrette, Rice Pilaf, Tourner Potatoes and craft perfect julienne, brunoise, macedoine and batonnet from carrots. When the test menu was exposed, everyone smiled in satisfaction. Hollandaise? Been there, done that - fifteen times in the last week to be exact. Rice Pilaf? My grandmother makes rice pilaf. We discovered, however, each of these items was deceptively simple. So simple, that an itty bitty mistake became a conspicuous error. There was no way to hide bad flavor behind fresh herbs or crappy knife skills under sauce.
The judges, Mama and Chef, were channeling Gordon Ramsey, minus all the F-bombs. They offered zero positive feedback, only nonconstructive criticism. All in all, I'm pleased with my performance although everything I made needed more salt, and my rice was "thirty seconds undercooked." 30 seconds? Whatever.
Quite frankly, our entire class did pretty well, even the Numero Uno Dummy. Everyone finished on time and no one's Hollandaise broke. Its nice to work with people who are equally motivated, dedicated and generally, capable. This one was a win for The Cornichons (the new loving nickname I've heard the advanced students call our class).
Day Fifteen
In our third meat lecture with the Head of Everything, we talked about America's favorite meat, Beef. America has an affinity for bovinity for one reason, we've got space. This country is plentiful with plains and pastures which can be devoted to grazing animals. Other countries, such as France, simply can not allow cattle to take up precious space and time (veal, a popular meat in France, must be slaughtered before turning 9 months old, which means quick turnover and more paydays).
He walked us through every cut of beef including its location on the cow and how it is best cooked. We were shocked when he said, "Evrhebadee haz a prhefrhunce az to which cut of meet zhey prheefur, so my opinyun dhuz not mattur." For the record, however, if offered any cut of beef, he would select a Porterhouse. And surprise, surprise, when I asked him how he likes his beef cooked he replied, "Zhee onlee way it shood be kooked, rhair."
The Porterhouse is a cut from the cow's short loin, or the very center part of the cows back. A piece of Porterhouse provides both a tenderloin and a strip steak. A T-Bone is similar, but the piece of tenderloin will be smaller. A cheap substitute for a Porterhouse, that almost always must be requested from a butcher, is a Sirloin Pinbone Steak. There are only a couple of this cut in each cow, and although the strip steak may be slightly tougher and the tenderloin much smaller, a Sirloin Pinbone Steak is great bang for your buck.
"Zhair is onlee one whay to kook a stake propurlhee."
The Only Way To Cook A Steak
Ingredients:
A Quality Steak
Salt
Pepper
Butter
Methods:
-Heat a small amount of butter (use clarified to avoid burning) in a steel pan
-Season the steak well with salt and pepper on both sides
-When the pan is very, very hot, plop the seasoned steak into the pan - it should sizzle
-I really meant that, it should seriously, seriously sizzle
-Do not touch the steak until you intend to flip it over
-For rare steak, you should flip after no more than 30 seconds
-After flipping, put a generous dollop of whole butter on the steak and finish in a 400 degree oven
-For a rare steak, it should be in the oven for no more than 1 minute
He walked us through every cut of beef including its location on the cow and how it is best cooked. We were shocked when he said, "Evrhebadee haz a prhefrhunce az to which cut of meet zhey prheefur, so my opinyun dhuz not mattur." For the record, however, if offered any cut of beef, he would select a Porterhouse. And surprise, surprise, when I asked him how he likes his beef cooked he replied, "Zhee onlee way it shood be kooked, rhair."
The Porterhouse is a cut from the cow's short loin, or the very center part of the cows back. A piece of Porterhouse provides both a tenderloin and a strip steak. A T-Bone is similar, but the piece of tenderloin will be smaller. A cheap substitute for a Porterhouse, that almost always must be requested from a butcher, is a Sirloin Pinbone Steak. There are only a couple of this cut in each cow, and although the strip steak may be slightly tougher and the tenderloin much smaller, a Sirloin Pinbone Steak is great bang for your buck.
"Zhair is onlee one whay to kook a stake propurlhee."
The Only Way To Cook A Steak
Ingredients:
A Quality Steak
Salt
Pepper
Butter
Methods:
-Heat a small amount of butter (use clarified to avoid burning) in a steel pan
-Season the steak well with salt and pepper on both sides
-When the pan is very, very hot, plop the seasoned steak into the pan - it should sizzle
-I really meant that, it should seriously, seriously sizzle
-Do not touch the steak until you intend to flip it over
-For rare steak, you should flip after no more than 30 seconds
-After flipping, put a generous dollop of whole butter on the steak and finish in a 400 degree oven
-For a rare steak, it should be in the oven for no more than 1 minute
Friday, May 1, 2009
Day Fourteen
The Head of Everything has a favorite meal: La Blanquette De Veau A L’Ancienne Aux Champignons. It is white veal stew, topped off with an old school garnish (A L'Ancienne means "in the old") of glazed pearl onions, potatoes and mushrooms. We added carrots to the garnish for color.
Can you imagine the pressure of preparing such a thing - The Head of Everything's ALL TIME FAVORITE?!
La Blanquette De Veau A L'Ancienne Aux Champignons
Ingredients
For the Stew:
2 1/2 c. Veal, cleaned and cubed
1/2 Whole onion
1 T. Cloves
4 c. Stock
1 c. Leeks, chopped
1/2 c. Carrots, chopped
1 Bouquet Garni (Thyme, Bay Leaf and Parsley)
Roux (equal parts of butter and flour - about 3 T of each is good)
3/4 c. Cream
For the Garnish:
1 c. Potatoes, tourner cut (good luck with this)
1 c. Carrots, tourner cut (carrots are harder to tourner than potatoes)
1 c. Mushrooms, quartered
2 c. Water
2 T. Flour
Juice from 1/2 lemon
1 c. Pearl Onions, skin removed
2 t. Sugar
1 T. Butter
1 t. Salt
3 T. Stock or water
Methods
Prepare the Stew:
-Put stock in a large sauce pan
-Clove 1/2 onion (called an "onion pique") and add to stock
-Add bouquet garni, leeks, carrots and veal to cold stock
-Season with salt and pepper
-Bring to simmer and cook until veal is cooked through and tender
-Strain and reserve stock and veal in a large sautoir pan (a large pan, similar to a saute pan, but with straight, vertical, 2"+ sides)
Prepare the Garnish:
-Boil mushrooms in water with flour and lemon (to retain their white color)
-When mushrooms are cooked, strain from flour and lemon water (called a "Blanc") and reserve
-Tourner carrots and potatoes and boil in salted water until just cooked (a tourner cut resembles a football with exactly seven sides)
-Strain carrots and potatoes from cooking water and reserve
-Put peeled pearl onions, sugar, salt and stock or water into a small saucepan.
-Bring to a boil and cover - simmer on a very low heat
-When most of the liquid is gone, begin slowly stirring until a thick glaze forms
-Remove glazed onions and reserve
Finish the Blanquette de Veau:
-Begin heating the reserved stock and let it reduce
-Make a roux by melting butter into a pan
-When melted, add an equal share of flour and stir quickly until a paste forms
-Cool the roux
-Once cooled, whisk roux into heated stock reduction
-After sauce thickens, add cream and whisk
-Season well and add 1 to 2 T. of lemon juice if desired
-Add veal and garnishes to to gravy
-Serve over rice or fresh pasta
Stews require the use of numerous important, basic techniques, therefore our lessons will be thick with stew for the next couple of months. We were thrilled at the prospect of creating and eating things like Beef Bourguignon and Coq Au Vin, until we served the Blanquette de Veau; although delicious, piping hot stew is not a choice meal in a piping hot kitchen.
My assigned partner this week is the Numero Uno Dummy. Nice, motivated and likable for sure, but clueless when it comes to anything common sense. Mine and the Dummy's Blanquette De Veau turned out way too salty.
"I figured out why our sauce was too salty!" the Dummy exclaimed.
"Oh yeah?" I replied.
This is what happened to our sauce: We each made our own sauces and combined them at the end to make life easier. We let the combined sauces reduce for over an hour, which was way too long, and therefore the ratio of salt to stock was way too high.
"Do you know why it was salty?" the Dummy inquired.
"Yes, I do. Its because we reduced it too much," I kindly replied.
"No!" the Dummy exclaimed with a smile. "Here is what I figure - since we combined our sauces, which both had salt in them, some sort of reaction happened and we ended up with double the salt. So, from now on, you should never combine two separate things otherwise your final product will have double the seasoning!"
It took all my energy to hold in a chuckle.
"Um, no. That's not correct. Think about it, if you take a can of coke and mix it with another can of coke, you don't end up with super sweet coke," I explained.
"I dunno," the Dummy doubtfully said. "I think the coke may be sweeter. I 'll have to try it when I get home tonight."
Oh boy.
Can you imagine the pressure of preparing such a thing - The Head of Everything's ALL TIME FAVORITE?!
La Blanquette De Veau A L'Ancienne Aux Champignons
Ingredients
For the Stew:
2 1/2 c. Veal, cleaned and cubed
1/2 Whole onion
1 T. Cloves
4 c. Stock
1 c. Leeks, chopped
1/2 c. Carrots, chopped
1 Bouquet Garni (Thyme, Bay Leaf and Parsley)
Roux (equal parts of butter and flour - about 3 T of each is good)
3/4 c. Cream
For the Garnish:
1 c. Potatoes, tourner cut (good luck with this)
1 c. Carrots, tourner cut (carrots are harder to tourner than potatoes)
1 c. Mushrooms, quartered
2 c. Water
2 T. Flour
Juice from 1/2 lemon
1 c. Pearl Onions, skin removed
2 t. Sugar
1 T. Butter
1 t. Salt
3 T. Stock or water
Methods
Prepare the Stew:
-Put stock in a large sauce pan
-Clove 1/2 onion (called an "onion pique") and add to stock
-Add bouquet garni, leeks, carrots and veal to cold stock
-Season with salt and pepper
-Bring to simmer and cook until veal is cooked through and tender
-Strain and reserve stock and veal in a large sautoir pan (a large pan, similar to a saute pan, but with straight, vertical, 2"+ sides)
Prepare the Garnish:
-Boil mushrooms in water with flour and lemon (to retain their white color)
-When mushrooms are cooked, strain from flour and lemon water (called a "Blanc") and reserve
-Tourner carrots and potatoes and boil in salted water until just cooked (a tourner cut resembles a football with exactly seven sides)
-Strain carrots and potatoes from cooking water and reserve
-Put peeled pearl onions, sugar, salt and stock or water into a small saucepan.
-Bring to a boil and cover - simmer on a very low heat
-When most of the liquid is gone, begin slowly stirring until a thick glaze forms
-Remove glazed onions and reserve
Finish the Blanquette de Veau:
-Begin heating the reserved stock and let it reduce
-Make a roux by melting butter into a pan
-When melted, add an equal share of flour and stir quickly until a paste forms
-Cool the roux
-Once cooled, whisk roux into heated stock reduction
-After sauce thickens, add cream and whisk
-Season well and add 1 to 2 T. of lemon juice if desired
-Add veal and garnishes to to gravy
-Serve over rice or fresh pasta
Stews require the use of numerous important, basic techniques, therefore our lessons will be thick with stew for the next couple of months. We were thrilled at the prospect of creating and eating things like Beef Bourguignon and Coq Au Vin, until we served the Blanquette de Veau; although delicious, piping hot stew is not a choice meal in a piping hot kitchen.
My assigned partner this week is the Numero Uno Dummy. Nice, motivated and likable for sure, but clueless when it comes to anything common sense. Mine and the Dummy's Blanquette De Veau turned out way too salty.
"I figured out why our sauce was too salty!" the Dummy exclaimed.
"Oh yeah?" I replied.
This is what happened to our sauce: We each made our own sauces and combined them at the end to make life easier. We let the combined sauces reduce for over an hour, which was way too long, and therefore the ratio of salt to stock was way too high.
"Do you know why it was salty?" the Dummy inquired.
"Yes, I do. Its because we reduced it too much," I kindly replied.
"No!" the Dummy exclaimed with a smile. "Here is what I figure - since we combined our sauces, which both had salt in them, some sort of reaction happened and we ended up with double the salt. So, from now on, you should never combine two separate things otherwise your final product will have double the seasoning!"
It took all my energy to hold in a chuckle.
"Um, no. That's not correct. Think about it, if you take a can of coke and mix it with another can of coke, you don't end up with super sweet coke," I explained.
"I dunno," the Dummy doubtfully said. "I think the coke may be sweeter. I 'll have to try it when I get home tonight."
Oh boy.
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