My Pantry class started the quarter with demonstrations on fried eggs, omelets, crepes, waffles, pancakes and all kinds of breakfast foods. We all enjoyed it and the tastings that went along with it.
I hit a snag on fried egg day. We all were shown how to flip fried eggs into the air to land on the opposite side for over easy, over medium, etc. We were then given our own opportunity to practice the "over" part.
When it was my time to practice, I walked over with my fried eggs in the pan and wanted to practice flipping over the trash can. I'd rather have a mess there than over an open flame with broken egg yolk running and sizzling on the cast iron-- a mess to clean. Only I didn't make it to the trash can. Chef started chastizing me "Dallas! Act like a Professional! You come over here to the burner and do that!" She obviously had more faith in me than I had in myself.
Sure enough she was right. I gave it my best effort and egg flipped right on over. The trick I learned after my successful attempt is to get them to land flat and not folded under. Eventually for the practical my yolks broke. My luck was poorly timed.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
New Quarter
This quarter I'm taking three classes, compared with my usual two. It will be a challenging time. We always start the quarter with practicals and this one was no exception except there were more of them.
Pantry was my first class. We were told to make a beurre blanc sauce and hollandaise sauce. For those of you following this blog, you know I practiced and practiced my hollandaise and I felt very confident that this would not be difficult. Thankfully, I was correct.
However the beurre blanc sauce was not as familiar to me. My fellow classmates had the same mystified look on their faces. We all had some idea from analyzing it's literal translation, white butter, but were lost on the details. We also knew that beurre blanc is often a general term suggesting that a sauce has been finished with butter. Luckily we were provided ingredient lists and could see exactly what was in the sauce, but no method.
As the name suggests, I noted there was tons of butter included, similar to the hollandaise, but it was not marked as melted. Thus I continued to make the sauce but was puzzled at the end. I thought these sauces were likely following a theme and were both emulsified sauces. I tried whipping the butter at the end with the sauce in a mixing bowl, but the sauce wasn't very hot and the butter just turned into mush and stuck to my whisk. I returned the sauce to a pan and tried stirring it in as it melted over the stove. The sauce didn't break thankfully, but it certainly didn't whip either. I tasted the sauce and it had flavor. So I plated up both sauces and brought them up for review.
I was prepared for ill remarks since I really wasn't sure what the sauce was to be, but I knew I put forth my best guess and with that felt I've given all I could. Sure enough as soon as I walked up the chef asked "what's that?" Of course she couldn't use the process of elimination and see that the other was my hollandaise sauce so of course this had to be my beurre blanc. (Sometimes I wonder if I replied with the same caddy sarcasism with which I am constantly provided, what would happen. I've seen others try and it usually doesn't end well.)
Others handed in their sauces, which looked very similar to mine in color and consistency. They however were not asked to identify their submissions. I guess I started the trend and there was no need. In the chef's eyes, all of these were a run of bad beurre blancs.
She communicated just that to the class once everyone was finished with the practical. "Beurre blanc sauce is not supposed to be soupy, rather it should be whipped up over a water bath like the hollandaise." I still have difficulties imagining this. With hollandaise, the butter is melted and thus it easily blends and the sauce stays a consistent temperature. Whipping in cold blocks of butter seems much harder. The warm sauce would be made cold by the cold butter. I'll have to test this at home where I'm not critiqued like an elementary child.
At the end of class we received grading sheets and feedback was provided for both of our sauces. Of course, nothing is ever perfect; my hollandaise was too thick.
Banquet was my second class and the practicals took a new twist, no recipes or methods provided. We were told to braise a chicken, make a sauce and serve a carrot custard with it. We could only use salt, pepper and garlic as seasoning. Similar to the reaction to the beurre blanc, many of us were blank-faced when the custard was mentioned. We made a leek timbale during a class, but not everyone made it and it was not anything on which we were ever tested.
I felt somewhat lucky because I recently twice made lobster quiches for two family events. I remembered the cream to egg ratio I'd used in those so I decided to follow a similar method. I knew the vegetables had to be cooked before use in the custard and pureed, but I missed a few other key points (to be detailed shortly). I was also excited because I cut several nice lozenges, otherwise known as diamonds, out of carrot to use as a garnish on the top of the custard. These went on the bottom of the custard tin so that when the custard was flipped over for serving the lozenge would be displayed nicely on top, signaling to the diner that carrot was an ingredient in the custard. I mixed all this together and got the custards into a water bath in the oven.
Meanwhile, I'd browned my chicken and started it braising. Once done, I had a nice tasting sauce, but very little of it. It was also very greasy because I'd left the skin on my chicken during braising. I'd floured the chicken hoping to create somewhat of an in-pan roux, but there wasn't enough flour to soak up that amount of oil. I ladled some off and had to use paper towels to soak off more. I'd planned to add some cream to thicken the sauce, but Chef told me not too. (I'd earlier seeked advice on how to handle my over abundance of oil.) So I added more stock hoping to stretch the sauce; that made it too runny. Since time was running out I added a starch slurry at the end to thicken the sauce.
The last requirement for my plate was a jasmine rice pilaf. Pilafs are easy and I'd done well serving these before so I wasn't too worried about this dish. However, people were taking forever to plate and chef wasn't quick on critiquing them. Any student plating near the end had to hold their food a long time. This mean my rice was cooking and cooking.
When it was finally my turn for critique, I pulled all my items out and started plating. The students before me made their plates but then sat waiting and their food was served to the chef cold, a BIG no-no. At least I knew to keep my dishes warm.
I started plating. The carrot custard was first. I turned over the first one onto a plate. Where was my lozenge? It had disappeared somewhere in the middle of the custard. I turned over another one, hoping that one was just a fluke. Wrong! They had all lost their garnish. My elegant display was foiled. Oh well, nothing I could do about it now. The custards were also multi-layered. All the pureed carrot had filtered to the bottom of the tin while cooking. Thus on the plate, the custard's top was a nice orange color and the bottom a pale yellow custard color. I hoped this would be seen as creative.
I added the chicken, a breast and a leg, and sauced it. I knew the sauce was icky, but again there wasn't much I could do. I'd tried to increase the volume and basically ruined the sauce.
Last, I spooned out some rice on the plate and carried it up for critique. Chef went straight for the custard. She told me it was nicely cooked, had no seasoning. About when she got there, the lozenge popped out of the middle. "What's that?" Her well liked phrase for the day reappeared. I explained that this was supposed to be a garnish but unfortunately it disappeared into the middle of the custard. Another chef happened to pass by during our exchange and he made a face that looked like a worm had popped out of the custard. I prepared myself for some custard brow beating. "I like the idea, but yeah it doesn't work like that," Chef said. Phew! That wasn't too bad.
Just when I was feeling relieved, it was on to the chicken and sauce critique. The sauce was as expected, bad. The chicken was overcooked and everything including my rice was under-seasoned. I'm going to have to revisit my earlier approach of seasoning to taste and then adding more salt. This seemed to work well, but I thought my own salt pallet had caught up with the chefs. Obviously not.
At least I was half way through my practicals. I could look forward to a baking practical and another banquet practical in the next few days.
Pantry was my first class. We were told to make a beurre blanc sauce and hollandaise sauce. For those of you following this blog, you know I practiced and practiced my hollandaise and I felt very confident that this would not be difficult. Thankfully, I was correct.
However the beurre blanc sauce was not as familiar to me. My fellow classmates had the same mystified look on their faces. We all had some idea from analyzing it's literal translation, white butter, but were lost on the details. We also knew that beurre blanc is often a general term suggesting that a sauce has been finished with butter. Luckily we were provided ingredient lists and could see exactly what was in the sauce, but no method.
As the name suggests, I noted there was tons of butter included, similar to the hollandaise, but it was not marked as melted. Thus I continued to make the sauce but was puzzled at the end. I thought these sauces were likely following a theme and were both emulsified sauces. I tried whipping the butter at the end with the sauce in a mixing bowl, but the sauce wasn't very hot and the butter just turned into mush and stuck to my whisk. I returned the sauce to a pan and tried stirring it in as it melted over the stove. The sauce didn't break thankfully, but it certainly didn't whip either. I tasted the sauce and it had flavor. So I plated up both sauces and brought them up for review.
I was prepared for ill remarks since I really wasn't sure what the sauce was to be, but I knew I put forth my best guess and with that felt I've given all I could. Sure enough as soon as I walked up the chef asked "what's that?" Of course she couldn't use the process of elimination and see that the other was my hollandaise sauce so of course this had to be my beurre blanc. (Sometimes I wonder if I replied with the same caddy sarcasism with which I am constantly provided, what would happen. I've seen others try and it usually doesn't end well.)
Others handed in their sauces, which looked very similar to mine in color and consistency. They however were not asked to identify their submissions. I guess I started the trend and there was no need. In the chef's eyes, all of these were a run of bad beurre blancs.
She communicated just that to the class once everyone was finished with the practical. "Beurre blanc sauce is not supposed to be soupy, rather it should be whipped up over a water bath like the hollandaise." I still have difficulties imagining this. With hollandaise, the butter is melted and thus it easily blends and the sauce stays a consistent temperature. Whipping in cold blocks of butter seems much harder. The warm sauce would be made cold by the cold butter. I'll have to test this at home where I'm not critiqued like an elementary child.
At the end of class we received grading sheets and feedback was provided for both of our sauces. Of course, nothing is ever perfect; my hollandaise was too thick.
Banquet was my second class and the practicals took a new twist, no recipes or methods provided. We were told to braise a chicken, make a sauce and serve a carrot custard with it. We could only use salt, pepper and garlic as seasoning. Similar to the reaction to the beurre blanc, many of us were blank-faced when the custard was mentioned. We made a leek timbale during a class, but not everyone made it and it was not anything on which we were ever tested.
I felt somewhat lucky because I recently twice made lobster quiches for two family events. I remembered the cream to egg ratio I'd used in those so I decided to follow a similar method. I knew the vegetables had to be cooked before use in the custard and pureed, but I missed a few other key points (to be detailed shortly). I was also excited because I cut several nice lozenges, otherwise known as diamonds, out of carrot to use as a garnish on the top of the custard. These went on the bottom of the custard tin so that when the custard was flipped over for serving the lozenge would be displayed nicely on top, signaling to the diner that carrot was an ingredient in the custard. I mixed all this together and got the custards into a water bath in the oven.
Meanwhile, I'd browned my chicken and started it braising. Once done, I had a nice tasting sauce, but very little of it. It was also very greasy because I'd left the skin on my chicken during braising. I'd floured the chicken hoping to create somewhat of an in-pan roux, but there wasn't enough flour to soak up that amount of oil. I ladled some off and had to use paper towels to soak off more. I'd planned to add some cream to thicken the sauce, but Chef told me not too. (I'd earlier seeked advice on how to handle my over abundance of oil.) So I added more stock hoping to stretch the sauce; that made it too runny. Since time was running out I added a starch slurry at the end to thicken the sauce.
The last requirement for my plate was a jasmine rice pilaf. Pilafs are easy and I'd done well serving these before so I wasn't too worried about this dish. However, people were taking forever to plate and chef wasn't quick on critiquing them. Any student plating near the end had to hold their food a long time. This mean my rice was cooking and cooking.
When it was finally my turn for critique, I pulled all my items out and started plating. The students before me made their plates but then sat waiting and their food was served to the chef cold, a BIG no-no. At least I knew to keep my dishes warm.
I started plating. The carrot custard was first. I turned over the first one onto a plate. Where was my lozenge? It had disappeared somewhere in the middle of the custard. I turned over another one, hoping that one was just a fluke. Wrong! They had all lost their garnish. My elegant display was foiled. Oh well, nothing I could do about it now. The custards were also multi-layered. All the pureed carrot had filtered to the bottom of the tin while cooking. Thus on the plate, the custard's top was a nice orange color and the bottom a pale yellow custard color. I hoped this would be seen as creative.
I added the chicken, a breast and a leg, and sauced it. I knew the sauce was icky, but again there wasn't much I could do. I'd tried to increase the volume and basically ruined the sauce.
Last, I spooned out some rice on the plate and carried it up for critique. Chef went straight for the custard. She told me it was nicely cooked, had no seasoning. About when she got there, the lozenge popped out of the middle. "What's that?" Her well liked phrase for the day reappeared. I explained that this was supposed to be a garnish but unfortunately it disappeared into the middle of the custard. Another chef happened to pass by during our exchange and he made a face that looked like a worm had popped out of the custard. I prepared myself for some custard brow beating. "I like the idea, but yeah it doesn't work like that," Chef said. Phew! That wasn't too bad.
Just when I was feeling relieved, it was on to the chicken and sauce critique. The sauce was as expected, bad. The chicken was overcooked and everything including my rice was under-seasoned. I'm going to have to revisit my earlier approach of seasoning to taste and then adding more salt. This seemed to work well, but I thought my own salt pallet had caught up with the chefs. Obviously not.
At least I was half way through my practicals. I could look forward to a baking practical and another banquet practical in the next few days.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
