Days Twenty Four to Twenty Seven

Every few days, The Chef manages to sneak over to our "beginner" kitchen and provides us with a good verbal beating. We always hear him before we see him. His tirade usually begins near the “advanced” kitchen, located on the opposite end of the long, pot washer’s corridor. “Zhey ahre ideeuts, huh?! Ow menee timez we hav to tel zhem?” His words get louder and clearer as he marches past the dish sinks, usually carrying evidence of our rule breaking. “Ohkaye peepul, I zwhere eef you ghet into mhy kitchun and lheeve zheese muhch sawce en zhee pot ahnd geeve it to zhe dishwashur yhou will nhot gradoohate, huh?!” He held up a stainless steel pot containing no more than a tablespoon of Veloute, stuck to the sides. We are supposed to scrape and save all sauce residue, for a rainy day I suppose. Our most common offenses include: 1) tossing leftovers into the community fridge without labeling the container correctly (misspelling French words drives him nuts) and 2) leaving masking tape on pots and pans that bear our name – we discovered that labeling our pots and pans was the only sure way to prevent the Sauce Swiper from striking.

The women of our class developed a brilliant idea during locker room time. We thought it would be smart to assume identities of the advanced students and write their names on our masking tape labels in lieu of ours. It turned out there was one less student in their section than in ours, so I humbly accepted the alias of guess who....The Chef.

What fun it is to play practical jokes. We gleefully labeled our pots and pans using an alias. When it came time to take the dirty vessels to dish, we all made sure to leave the labels stuck as they were. After hearing The Chef holler and scold the advanced students for two whole days, some began to feel bad (wimps I say!).

“Maybe we should tell them it was us,” one Cornichon proclaimed.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would be such a big deal,” another chimed.

“Are you out of your mind?” I replied. “Our plan is brilliant, and fun. I refuse to back down.” A few brave little pickles agreed with my enthusiasm, therefore we continued cooking with mislabeled equipment and listening to The Chef roar at our advanced colleagues for the rest of the week. One afternoon, we noticed the yelling stopped. Uh oh. Sure enough, he appeared in our kitchen, holding a large sauce pot (mine) over his head, labeled with a piece of masking tape bearing his name. “Ohkay peepul, I zee. Ewe ahre szmhartur szhan I szhought.” He smiled, spun around, and walked away.

I despise the following recipe, only because I screwed it up on our second practical exam. Other than that, it is quite delicious and a great lunch on a hot summer day.

LA VICHYSSOISE
Ingredients
1 Russet Potato, cut into large chunks
3 Leeks (white part only), roughly chopped
Butter
½ onion, roughly chopped
4 c. Chicken Stock
1 small bunch Parsley
1 Bay Leaf
2 sprigs Thyme
¾ c. Heavy Cream
Salt and Pepper

Heat butter in a saucepan and add the leeks and onion. Sweat the leeks and onion until translucent, being very careful to keep them from taking any color. Once translucent, add the chicken stock, potato, parsley, bay leaf and thyme. Let simmer until the potato is tender.

Remove the potato from the soup and set aside. Remove the bay leaf, thyme and parsley and discard. Blend the soup in a blender until smooth. Add potato, a little at a time, until the soup is the consistency of heavy cream – do not add too much potato (this is what I screwed up!) or you will end up with paste! Season the blended soup with salt and pepper and chill until cold. Before serving, add heavy cream as desired. If desired, garnish with finely chopped chives or chervil.