First Meltdown of Advanced: Complete

Note to self: Mondays = Bad Croissant Day.

Some ECards. There's one appropriate for every situation.

Being a combination of hungover, delirious on allergy medication and operating on four hours of sleep leaves one with very little personal tools with which to cope with frustration. I took two stints in the walk-in freezer trying to cool down and even then I still resorted to pacing around the school twice, ranting belligerently under my breath. At croissants. Out of three heads of croissant dough (1 head of croissant dough = 20 croissants), I got precisely 20 croissants. That is easy math.

Sinister crab shaped playas.

My problem today was sincerely not the croissants themselves. I have in the past successfully made croissants that had beautiful lamination, puffed up beautifully and were an encouragement to me. My issue was with the sheeter. This marvel of modern technology is what I describe as a "rolling pin machine". Anything you need rolled out thinly, be it croissant dough, pie dough, puff pastry etc, the sheeter can get you where you want to go.

OR CAN IT??!

My encounter with the sheeter, which was the source of my croissant anxiety as soon as I got into advanced, could only be described visually as something like a slip 'n' slide or a mud run. You know, when you put on your ratty summer clothes (or maybe you don't and wish you did) and find a hill and some spring run off and have a messy afternoon. It's all fun and games and you think that you've got a handle on it until you get a tree root to the tailbone or you spin juuuuussst enough to launch you successfully into the brambles or for you to get a mouthful of your own knees. In the sheeter today, I found the tree root to my tailbone. The first dough: I enclosed my butter and then popped it on the sheeter. The sheeter is controlled by a crude button system that leaves you feeling somewhat like you are playing Whack-a-Mole. Or Bop-It. Does anyone over twelve like either of those games? (My apologies if you do. My sincere apologies.) All was going just fine. I had some scaling in my dough, which means that the butter had broken into pieces within the dough instead of being a cohesive piece, but that wasn't the end of the world. Scaling can still be fixed. I'm hummin' to myself, telling myself I worry for nothing -which I do- and THEN the sheeter skipped, which means I was playing with the buttons a little to much and the rollers jumped. This resulted in the sheeter ripping numerous holes in my laminated dough. When you rip a hole in laminated dough, you ruin the layers that produce a flaky croissant. You will likely end up with a lopsided croissant or a croissant that looks like this. (No disrespect.) Anyway, I was disappointed but I knew that the dough could still be used. I had to pop the dough in the freezer to chill it quickly before I could do the next fold. Did that, enclosed my butter in my next piece of dough, and set it up on the sheeter. Back, forth, back, forth. I got scaling again. "Oh crap. Why is this happening? I feel like I made the same mistake I JUST made."

3, 2, 1.

The sheeter -and here is where I am choosing to editorialize and have absolutely no perspective- ripped my laminated dough not only in half but in numerous pieces. At this point I think I look like Yosemite Sam -except instead of a huge cowboy hat I have a tiiiiiiny bakers cap that makes my head look too small for my body. If you picture this, you will have no sympathy for me. It will just be really funny. A baker with shoulders like a linebacker crying over shredded croissant dough. I went and found my Chef who told me to go stand in the freezer. Which helped but didn't really take the edge off. When I came back, Chef rolled my croissant dough for me while I watched. Those croissants turned out just fine.

I'm not bitter AT ALL.

I was on the PMS-side of irrational for the rest of the day. What I got to do with the ripped laminated dough -because it is still useable- was roll it out, cram it full of almond cream, chocolate chips, pistachios and dried cranberries and make sweet spiral rolls. Not a sucky option at all but still not croissants.

The bittersweet piece to this story is that our Chef just started us on a two-day rotation which means I get to do croissants TOMORROW. I have a small prayer bible and a horse tranquilizer in case tomorrow goes the way of today. The benefit of doing it again tomorrow is my mistakes are fresh in my mind. I can go into it tomorrow knowing what I need to do differently. After that, I doubt I'll want to see croissants ever again but I get to do in another twelve rotations!

Fun thing though is tomorrow I'm going on a field trip! A huge panel of well respected Chef's are giving a talk tomorrow. About what, I don't know. But I'm hoping for some inspiration. I'm already a little fatigued with mousse cakes and tarts. We leave school early as well which means I'm not going to be able to waste time and cry in the freezer like I did today. 1230 and my croissants have to be busted beyond all recovery because that's all the time I've got. My attitude will get better, I promise. It's me and chamomile hanging tonight. Valium's coming over later. He can always talk me off a ledge.

It's almost Easter! Go buy some cream eggs. Pipe a rosette of whipped cream on top. Feel fancy. Repeat.

Phew with a side of Booyah

Dessert Service. Bake-off. Bread Room. Never again in my life will my days be so differentiated. This is mah time!

Monday was my first day on Dessert Service. One of the aspects to working in the Advanced Kitchen in the Pastry program is making dessert for the restaurant lunch service. The pastry side is responsible for two out of three desserts while the culinary kitchen makes one. Dessert Service has an aspect that is hella stressful but there is a side that is like going to Playland. You get to do whatever you want. Some people do ol' reliables like New York cheesecake with raspberry coulis or fruit tarts with some ice cream that are always a hit out of the park. People love those desserts because they are homey and they are guaranteed to taste good. Not everybody is as adventurous with their dining choices as they think they will be. But if you are like me, and your palate tends towards the bizarre, you kind of have to reign yourself in and make a decision for the masses.
That reigning-in resulted in my first dessert: Frozen Passionfruit Souffle with a chocolate biscuit and caramel. I think that's as mainstream as I go. The very next day I tried to sell people on chocolate rosemary scones. Not everyone was havin' it.

It was my first time plating my own dessert and having to do it essentially on my own. There was a large portion of the morning when I was preparing my dessert that I didn't think it was going to work. My eggs weren't whipping. My gelatine looked really bizarre. I hadn't even started my caramel and I had only made it once in the past without burning it or making it taste burnt. And then I feel all in a span of about ten minutes, it came together and I felt better. It would absolutely do it differently if I were going to do it again, but for my first try at an idea and for being my first dessert service. I am pleased. People responded well to it. You say 'passionfruit' and people stop listening. They don't even need to know what else is on the plate. They want it. 'Passionfruit mousse with a sardine pate.' "I want it!"

Yesterday I was on Bake-Off which essentially consisted of me making things up as I went along and Chef then coming in and telling me I did it wrong. This is when taking initiative doesn't always benefit. All good. Bake-Off is handling the ovens while all the Bake Shop stuff is in there, like the croissants, muffins, scones, then decorating what needs to be decorated and handing it off. The rest of your day consists of prep for the next day like muffin mix, prepping scones and making sure we have enough for bake off the next day. No probs. Every day in the bread room is an exercise to think through whether you could do it as work. Lifting 10 kg out of a planetary mixer is harder on a small person than you would think. I need one of those weight lifting belts. To be honest, though, everything in Advanced is an exercise in thinking whether you could do it for work. You can spend a full day glazing cakes. That gets boring.

I feel the further I get into the program the further I am from understanding what I want to do when I'm finished. I worked in the bread room Tuesday and Wednesday today and there is something so meditative and beautiful about the bread process. We have been assigned an influential chef in the baking and pastry world in which we have to do a research project and presentation. THis is one of those moments when university doesn't help you. I know I'm going to overwork this. I am going to have sources out of the wah-zoo. MLA citation. What's more, is I was assigned Peter Reinhart who is a bread god in his own right. His books are magical and his pizza crust is the best you will ever have. His passion for pizza alone is contagious. I've been geeking out on his Whole Grain Breads book, where he introduces a new fermentation process called 'delayed fermentation' which allows whole grain and low-gluten breads to be used to make bread that DOESN'T SUCK. If you are gluten intolerant, I am really sorry for you because gluten-free bread is an offence to the mouth. To all the senses, in general. But Peter Reinhart is your saviour. Put a picture of his above your mantle. Leave things for him. Appease him. Maybe he'll give you a sponge cake recipe next and then your life will be COMPLETE. If you want an introduction to Peter Reinhart, listen to his TEDtalk. His piece on bread used as a symbol for life is crazy beautiful. 

Peter Reinhart is working on something he calls "Pizza Quest" where he travels to find the best pizza crust and what makes good pizza crust. The second episode where he talks to two guys who are known in San Francisco as having some of the best pizza. It's a pretty cool video. And the pizza looks amazeballs. 

"We wanted a place where people felt taken care of." That's what I want too. That's what this whole food thing is supposed to be about. I could proselytize about the correlation between making food for people and the Eucharist. It's getting close to Easter so I'm getting weepy. But I'm not going to. That's for the other blog. 

I found this Swedish Patisserie called Holy Sweet -this link should take you to the translated page- and they encapsulate so much of what I want to do. They cater small gatherings and weddings and they do an entire range of cakes, cookies, confections and do it with such an intoxicating aesthetic. I originally found them when I found a cake of theirs that had these gorgeous pearls on it. So simple and elegant while being unique. 

O Holy Sweet at Flickr

I made some Irish Soda Bread over the weekend to celebrate St. Patty's. I'll post some pictures because it came out so nice and tall. The last time I made Irish Soda Bread was right around this time last year when I discovered that our oven was broken. Well…not broken. Overachieving. And by overachieving I mean it was 600 degrees at all times. YOu can't use your oven as a proofer in those instances. I was decidedly proud when the bread didn't come out scorched to crap this time. 

Eat a pizza. Talk loudly and obnoxiously about how good it is. Mention Peter Reinhart. Feel like a genius. Repeat. 

Bam

Day one in big kid baking: success.

Bake Shop Set Up was my KINGDOM today. It involved cutting up cakes, putting them on doilies maybe with a little fruit on them, and giving them to the Bake Shop. And may I say that it was the perfect task for me on my first day of Advanced when I was DAZED and CONFUSED. As our first day in Basic, the amount of time I spent today trying to figure out where anything was severely outweighed any intentionally productive work. But that Bake Shop sure looked pretty. Tomorrow, friends, is another day.

My midterm yesterday, in no uncertain terms, was deflating. I came home and barely took my coat off before I collapsed into bed and didn't wake up until my phone rang late in the evening. So much pent up emotion was put into a process that at the end all that was going through my head was, "I don't even care about those crap eclairs." And then the very next day, without any gatekeeping, I just waltzed into Advanced like yesterday had never happened. Even after today, it feels slightly time-warpish.

The next three months is going to be a steep learning curve, like 'pop-a-wheelie' steep.

But I feel like…..

It's totally do-able.

Set a timer. Spoon ice cream into a bowl AS FAST AS YOU CAN, because you are a speed demon. Do not eat as fast as you can. That never ends well. Savor. Repeat.

Can't I just put butter on it? Butter makes everything better.

 Not gonna lie, I'm kind of tired of being in the kitchen. Thank God it's not the 50's. 

It's been a full day dry run of my midterm today. I know that it doesn't sound like a very successful dry run. 'Bri', you say, 'don't you only have four hours for your midterm? And today took you ten?' 

*In my head you sound like a Precious Moment when you talk.

But yes you would be absolutely right. I only have four hours to do everything that I took all day to do today. And there are even things that I will have to do on Wednesday that I didn't even DO today. Self-sabotage? Perhaps. My life resembled a bit of a science experiment today. I had my projections of what my midterm should look like, my HYPOTHESIS if you will -(guaranteed I just lost a couple of readers)- and compared it to what I felt I was capable of against what I was able to actually pull off. 

To my surprise -probably an hour added up throughout the day was made up of me congratulating myself on being realistic about my abilities and that I was 'going to be just fine at the midterm'- everything went fairly smoothly.  

Now being in pastry school has been an exercise in managed expectations. Anything you do at school -ANYTHING- that you choose to try and replicate at home, you will likely be disappointed. Professional kitchens are laid out with a certain modicum of premeditation. Ergonomics. "Flow". And you have a $1000 knife kit at your disposal. Your tuition has paid to enable anything you could want to put your hand to to be at your fingertips. Your apartment kitchen was made with the premeditation of "We were just going to put in a hot plate and a plug-in for a microwave but the building next door just put in new faucets and privacy film on the bathroom windows. So we have to at least make room for a full-size refrigerator." So any moments of Sound of Music-style spinning that was possible at school is only possible OUTSIDE your apartment. I don't remember my kitchen being inadequate before I went to pastry school. This is why you don't sleep around with other kitchens. Hindsight and all that.

So you get home. And you realize that you have a cloth piping bag that smells like morning breath (It DOESN'T dry well OKAY!?), you have a dough scraper that was obviously designed by someone who had never made bread before and purchased by someone (me) who hadn't a clue either, and your spatula has chunks missing along the side due to it being left on hot surfaces unattended. And then you feel sad. 

But then. You look back at your recipe. You remember the glory of school days recently passed. You conjure up your best show stopping dish. Commence dancing and inspired chanting at the glory of your semolina bread and how it's going to bring all the boys to the yard. 

Fast forward fifteen minutes: "Bah! This thing doesn't work AT ALL!"

Inspired chanting is replaced by swearing under one's breath. You make concessions for your recipe not shaping up like you had hoped. You pass the buck to the (now) broken spatula. You say that "It's just not for the home baker". And then you feel ashamed because you promised yourself that you would be better than that. Whatever you were making comes to a relative state of completion and you eat it with your eyes closed trying to resuscitate the previous beacon of talent and unchallenged winning. 

I have done this before if you couldn't tell. 

But today went well. I tried my best to preempt any tool-related shortages and use what I had at my disposal for it's intended purpose. I know you say, "Just take your knife kit home." But I would probably just say -and probably not very nicely- that it is simply not that simple. I don't know if you have ever been in the charge of a toddler or related small human before but there is this inevitable moment where you realized that they blew a shoe, or their pacifier or their blanket at all Hell breaks loose when they are without it. You search and retrace your steps. "You just had it. I don't understand." This life is my life. Everything I have is on an idiot -ahem, tether- when we go to the airport.  So two days before my midterm I am not going to lose my shoe THANK YOU VERY MUCH. 

I documented my truffle making process today because... I am a product of my generation and I have this insatiable desire to take pictures of my life on my phone using unnecessary photo sharing apps. Mae culpa, mea culpa. I worked with milk chocolate today whereas I've only worked with dark chocolate before. This made for a learning experience I probably could have saved for AFTER my midterm. Because dark chocolate has more cocoa solids in it, its sets up faster and requires less work to create the proper crystallization. The milk chocolate ganache is quite soft but it has bourbon in it so it can't be THAT bad right?

Including the Saran wrap and Archimedes the napkin holder seemed necessary. Or I just didn't realize I hadn't moved them until after. Our glass table isn't a marble and therefore will never be as great as marble but it definitely served its purpose well today. 

I also practiced my pate a choux paste today. I made eclairs, with drive me crazy but are on my exam, and then some profiteroles, which are much easier to work with and therefore more gratifying. I practiced some lemon curd today as well so instead of pastry cream I crammed the profiteroles full of lemon curd and left the finicky eclairs without any filling. That'll teach them right? Lie to me. 

 Tomorrow I have time to further finesse my agenda because I am the queen of over planning. A third of my class has already done their midterm. I want to ask them, ya know, pick their brain and TOTALLY obsess. But I know it is a short distance for me right now to go from there to rocking back and forth whispering, "I'll never teeeeeell." Best if I just keep to myself until Wednesday morning. 

Moozh did his this morning. The culinary students weren't told ahead of time what would be on their exam so Moozh went in blind. His chef told him that all of his stuff was cooked perfectly and that he did very well. And after six years of education and a master's program, Moozh still considered this midterm the most stressful exam he's ever written. I concur. Already. 

One more day to overprepare. 

Find a cookie. No, two. Find some ice cream. Make a sandwich. CUZ WHO DOESN'T LIKE AN ICE CREAM SANDWICH? Repeat. 

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Beta 5

The Oven Wall went on a field trip! And by field trip I mean, I got cabin fever and decided in the Vancouver drizzle to venture out of Yogapant-land (aka Kitsilano) and out into the land of some of the best coffee you will EVER HAVE, the art of finding beauty in concrete and a chocolate shop holy grail (aka EastVan). Next time I'll bring a good camera. 

When we were learning about chocolate in Foundations, Chef mentioned a chocolate shop that had started up in Vancouver by a buddy of his. Then he mentioned that they had a tobacco-flavored truffle. I think at that moment my brain kind of shorted out. Definitely didn't hear anything he said after that. I don't think he realized how dangerous it was to throw out such a mind blowing concept in such an off-handed way. The whole idea -nay- the INTENTION of combining those two glorious things into a TRUFFLE?! Mind blown. I knew that I had to have one. And I had to buy AT LEAST one for my scotch-lovin', Johnny Cash-quotin', corn cob pipe smokin' man aka The Moozh.

The moral of this story, preemptively of course because no one ever likes to wait for the moral, is when you feel these compulsions, act on them. Tobacco being the flavor of the month, and me having discovered it's existence on the 28th of February -even with a leap year on my side- I missed the February flavors.

The shop is called Beta 5. The name is very clever because the stablest formation of crystals in chocolate making and tempering is called Form V or Beta 5. That is the crystallization that is responsible for shiny chocolate, chocolate that isn't grainy and a bar of chocolate that has that great 'snap' when you break it. Nestled just off of Main St on Industrial Ave in a building a color somewhere between Pepto Bismol and flesh tone, Beta 5 Chocolates specializes in chocolate, marmalade, and other confections like caramels and marshmallows. 

*Why I felt compelled to take pictures with the awful camera on my phone, I don't know. It was all I had. Apologies. 

Despite having only the window on their door to work with, the shop has an open, brightness to it. The decor is industrial in a very cool way with exposed lightbulbs, metal shelving, wooden boards and cool cardboard packaging. 

 

 The people there are freaking awesome, even though all Vit D deprivation considered, we should all be feral and snarling at each other.

Beta 5's Chocolate Union is the version of chocolate of the month if Jesus had come up with it. Utter perfection. (Or Christopher Nolan. That guy's got a great track record.) It will redeem any negative connotations you have with the word 'union'. You can purchase a three-, six- or twelve-month membership. On the first Saturday of every month, you pick up your union package. Inside you will find an assortment of treats associated with a monthly theme. March's theme, because they're awesome and they GET IT, is Legends, Leprechauns and Libations. Within this theme you will find treats like Guinness truffles, green apple shamrock fruit jellies, chocolate covered potato chips among other things. *They have a 'crunch' category every month. Can't wait. 

Understandably this month's memberships are all old out.

 I picked up a six-piece Monthly chocolate, even though I was POSITIVE it wouldn't live up to the mythical tobacco truffles that I had hoped for. Wrong again. Sometimes our instincts, when clouded by our emotions, just aren't that reliable. The monthly flavors this month were Spanish olive oil, lime, pistachio, wasabi and genmai cha. The olive oil chocolate was smoooooooth.  Like Marvin Gaye smooth. The wasabi was good if not as pungent as I was expecting. I need to try another one in order to feel truly informed. You know, in order to give constructive feedback. My favorite out of the six, by far, was the lime. All of a sudden I felt like Mexico was in my mouth. (In the good way not in the hep-B, bad beef kind of way.) I associate Mexican cooking with that really intense, clear lime flavor. This truffle had that. I didn't share that one. My wifely dedication only extends so far. Mea culpa, Mea culpa.

I also went intending to buy a jar of their Bergamot Orange marmalade. *I feel marmalade is misunderstood and I appreciate that Beta 5 is working at a kind of renaissance. Beta 5 placed Second and third at the World Marmalde Awards (because there IS such a thing) for their Seville Orange marmalade and their Rangpur Lime marmalade respectively. They were out of the Bergamot orange (I'm seeing a pattern here) so I came home with the Blood Orange marmalade instead. The Blood Orange isn't as tangy as I assume the Seville Orange would be but its got this subtle deep pink to it. So preee-tay. I'll be hassling them until they get some more Bergamot in but I will also take what I can get in the meantime. By any account, their tactics to get me to come back are totally working. 

 So the moral of this story, yes there are two, is that if you are ever in Vancouver, you must make a stop at Beta 5. Tell 'em Chef sent you. You might get a deal. Don't tell them I sent you. They be like 'huh?'

Eat chocolate. Be happy. Repeat. 

Friday, March 9, 2012

SWISS MERINGUE!!?? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

It's 10 am. Guess where I am? IN MY PYJAMAS!

No I didn't get kicked out of school. I kicked school out of the…park.
I think I got my metaphors confused.
But anyway. My midterm is done and gone with a 97% scribbled in nearly legible writing! Boo-friggin-yah man! Going into my exam this morning, I was coaching myself, "It's not about the grade. The grade you get doesn't matter. Trust your abilities." And then I found out my mark. Suddenly, it IS about the mark.

And of course, it being the Pacific Northwest, I walked to school in the rain, wrote my test so fast that my clothes were still wet when I walked home in them. But suddenly you are in your pyjamas, drinking the first cup of coffee you've had all week, sitting down in a comfy chair and catching up on blogs as if this is your life.

All kidding aside, my practical is on Wednesday and that's the one that really counts. When I was in school for writing, it was all conceptual knowledge. In the 'real world' as a writer, you would sit in your pyjamas in a public place and look like you were doing nothing so book knowledge did matter. As a baker or pastry chef, you will NEVER be sitting as a part of your job. Being able to hustle, do rosettes double time, whisk-whisk-whisk are all the pieces that make the man. (Isn't that a reference to a suit? Metaphors. Not my thing today. My writer-self is ashamed of my baking-self right now.)

And academia is a totally different world. You take your exam in a gym or a huge lecture hall with three hundred other people. The teacher sits at the front and plays Angry Birds or talks to some brown-noser TA. In pastry, there is absolutely nothing standardized about it. The Chef looms and looks over your shoulder to tell you that the answer you just wrote is wrong.

Moozh walks into his exam in a couple hours. He'll kill it too. He has so much discipline when it comes to studying. I'll have all of my books spread out around me and yet still be on my computer looking at Pinterest. He's constantly writing, printing off worksheets and diagrams. He always draws sunglasses on the diagrams of the animals on his butchery worksheets.

Yesterday he made Foie Gras, which is a fatted duck liver,

And Braised short ribs to finish off his journey in Foundations. He won't be eating a three course meal at 730 at night anymore once he gets in Advanced. Which I think he'll be just fine with.

Five days until my Practical. Having another go at eclairs and truffles on the weekend. I'm gonna SLEEP IN. I may or may not make myself a Rocky montage. And then Wednesday comes. And I RUN.

Find yourself a crossword. (Or a sudoku, word search, or a word scramble.) Whether you finish or not, reward yourself. (Hot chocolate, wine and/or cake acceptable.) Repeat.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Last day at the Italian Spa...

You when (or maybe you don't) you are at the end of a long run; You are tired. You are most likely cranky. You are cursing every car that passes you because they are not offering to drive you home and maybe buy you a Klondike bar on the way. It's all self-talk at that point. If you are me, you are likely emanating steam from the top of your head. You are NOT DONE. And if you sit down and pout because you are tired, people will throw garbage and empty juice boxes at you because you are lame. You have to keep going because you have already run SO FAR. And you are going to be proud of yourself and quite possibly lord over people the fact that you run EVERYDAY and they sit on the couch and watch Jenna Marbles. Which is what you wish you were doing every second that you were running.

This complex (and completely hypothetical, I swear) situation is somewhat akin to what this day felt like, with or without the excessive heat release from the top of my head. The kitchen is very hot. We are cresting a hill, with our Midterm theory and practical tomorrow and Wednesday, respectively. But once we are through that, we are HALFWAY. What we have just learned, there is that and more in Advanced. There is so much on that side for us but there is a crud tonne of hard work too. (*I said 'crud tonne' at school the other day. Everyone was amused by my hillbilly language.)

A lot of running metaphors, hey? Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

The students that are presently in Advanced have been so helpful giving us some healthy feedback as to what to expect and how to enjoy the experience. Last  night, I was awake for quite a while when I should have been asleep dreaming about what advanced would be like.

There is a portion where we serve in the restaurant. We talk to they guests about the dessert, take their orders, take care of them at the end of their meal. I love that crap. Quite reasonably, if someone orders dessert in a restaurant, it has the potential to make or break their dining experience. It can redeem everything that went wrong at any point during the night. But it can also damage an otherwise flawless evening. Talking to people about something that you're passionate about is fun. And not hard. I turn into the 'Phone Voice' version of myself. Do you ever listen to a recording of yourself on someone's answering machine or you hear your voice in a video and you think to yourself, "THAT is what I sound like? Whoa." You have to kind of create a persona that is half your day to day personality so that you are at ease and authentic, but then you also have to create a version of yourself that is endearing and approachable. You don't have to be perfect. People actually like you better if you seem somewhat like them, even in a fine dining experience. We've all had servers that have no sense of humour, who are strangled in this really foreign interaction. If you can converse with someone respectfully, in a way that enhances their dining experience, you are set.

But I was also thinking about dessert. Of course. In Advanced we will do Bread Room and Dessert Service. In Dessert Service, you have the opportunity to play with flavours, textures, temperatures -all the components that go into creating a really memorable dessert.

We did plating today. All of those plates that Moozh has been doing all semester that looked so pretty. I got to do that today. Yesterday we made a Spice Passionfruit Poached Pear and a Panna Cotta. We used those today to practice plating and get a sense of what presentation looks like, especially in a dessert service. Chef gave us feedback as to how to create a plate is not only beautiful but still functional.


This was the Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta that we made. I paired with with some fresh citrus, a raspberry puree and a mango coulis. One of the aspects to a plated dessert is that all of the garnishes should be edible (remember what I said about the mint sprig yesterday? You can still EAT a mint sprig. That option is still on the table.)

This was the Poached Pear, which was amazing. I'm usually not a fan of the texture of cooked pear but this was perfect. It was just fork tender, while still having some bite to it. I halved it because I thought that it would be cute to use the poached pear as a vessel for some fruit and a chocolate cigarette. It sits on a chocolate ganache smear with some chocolate gelato at the end. I went a little heavy on the chocolate ganache. But I did say yesterday that you always want more sauce than they give you on the plate. Oh well. Next time.

These were some of the options that Chef gave us as inspiration. Early this morning before I left for school I was looking for dessert plating inspiration. Maybe these will provide some inspiration for someone doing the same thing.

More Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta:

Poached Pear: 

This was an Espresso Panna Cotta with the Poached Pear on the same plate. 

It all gets real from here on out.

Find some dessert. Even Oreos will do. Put some sweet sauce on a plate. Chocolate sauce will do. Put a mint sprig on top. Enjoy even though haters be hatin'. Repeat.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Man Bakes

Moozh has been baking!!

In their last week in Foundations, the culinary students had their pastry unit. They learned to make basic breads, tarts and sweet soufflés. I am so glad there was no vice versa where we had to learn culinary things. Because I don't have the patience for that crap at this point.

I'm so proud of him because it all looks gorgeous!
Lemon Meringue tarts are just really effective when it comes to presentation. The torched meringue is so eye catching.

Vanilla cream soufflé.

Baguettes and Pain Epi.

Fruit tart. 

They also made burgers! Which looked so tasty! Handmade bun and everything.

Here's a rant. Cuz I need it.
Some of the culinary punks -I mean, students- in the AM class were dishing out as we were leaving the other day. We were looking at their lemon meringue tarts. We were being supportive. Telling them they looked nice. Asking for their 'numba'. And then they said, 'Not bad for culinary kids, hey?' We said yes. Maybe that's where it all started. We kept on walking -because stroking someone's ego is hard on my hand. And I was tired. Then they say, "We're totally as good as Pastry students." Maybe it was my sensitivity (and territorial nature) when it comes to pastry and my abilities. Maybe it was my MISPLACED sensitivity and territorial nature. Or maybe I just needed a nap. Either way, I am not kidding you when I tell you I ranted the whole way home.
Some of the things that came out of my mouth were:

• "Oh yeah. Well you're bread looks like a potato. And your Beef Bourginon the other night? It smelled like socks. COME AT ME BRO!"
• "You know why they give you lemon meringue tarts? Because they're EASY! You know what's NOT EASY?! Sponge cakes, tabling chocolate, sugar work. Are you doing any of that?! No. Cuz you're in CULINARY."
• "Rah!"

I don't know if you're picturing this but the picture in your mind is probably accurate. I looked like a well dressed crazy person. Not super articulate either. We should be nice to them though. They will be cooking our staff meal as of next week. Their meringue tarts did look nice. I SAID THAT.

I'm really asking to not be held accountable for many of my actions right now. It's allergy season, so I look like Mickey Rourke right now. (And not 9 1/2 weeks Mickey Rouke. Weird-face, Iron Man Mickey Rourke). Talk about PUFF. And I have a "nose situation".  I'm talking about first world problems.

You know what's not a first world problem. KONY2012. If you haven't caught the wave of this thing in the past couple days, check it out. Very worthwhile. I caught a good point from my cousin while I was on FB today. Invisible Children is not the only organization trying to do something about Kony or about child soldiers, or about conflict in central Africa. But they are a great organization and they've got LOTS of people's attention right now. The goal of the campaign is to spread awareness about who Kony is and why he has to be stopped. The night of April 20th, the idea is to take the campaign material and cover EVERY AVAILABLE SURFACE with it. The reality of our society now is we are products of unconscious advertising. And that's part of the idea of the campaign. Stick a tic in people's brains. Get it in their faces visually.
What is just as effective as covering your local downtown core with posters and flags and lawn signs about KONY2012 is to write to your representative. The great piece about a representative democracy is they will listen if the voice is big enough. Our Prime Minister is on the targeted list of policy makers. You have municipal, provincial and federal resources at your disposal. And you are FREE. As a citizen of an empowered democracy, you have a vote that counts. Let's HASSLE SOME FEDS.

Two rants in one post. Wicked. Pretty pictures to come, I swear.

Acquire yourself a evening snack. Give someone a high five (With your free hand). Educate yourself. Repeat.

"What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?"

If I were a racer, and providing I could any longer see my toes, I would be stretching right now. I would be decked out in something unflattering, that wicks away sweat and pinches at your armpits (and your groin). I would likely be sizing up my competition, praying my shoelaces hold, and injecting myself with some kind of steroids (secretly). But I'm not a runner. I'm a baker. I still wear unflattering clothes. I still sweat a lot. Nothing pinches because everything is too big. (Which is a good sign.) I'm not sizing up my competition, I'm clinging to them for emotional support. I'm not on steroids but when you eat nougat for breakfast, you might as well be.

I ROYALLY messed up my marshmallows. I had coffee extract all ready for it. Coffee marshmallows + HoCho* = what you want your life to be all about. Or a mocha. This is a "both/and" kind of situation.
Anyways, I then realized we had a scaling situation on our hands as we were pouring the BOILING SUGAR SYRUP into our egg whites. Hot sloshy mess = not what marshmallows look like. And then I nearly poured that mess down the drain which would have resulted in, what we call in the culinary world, 'call the plumber cuz shit just went down'….and it's not moving. I guess. (This is stream of consciousness blogging.) But I've picked up some gelatine so I'm going to give it a try this weekend on my own when I should be studying for my midterm.

*HoCho is the gangst terminology for Hot Chocolate for those of you unaware. Now you know. And you sound cooler or as Moozh likes to call it, "Trying to be black, you white girl". You're welcome.

So marshmallows were not to be for us but we did make nougat. Did you know that nougat (and marshmallows and hard candies, I kid you not) started out as medicine? They were a way for pharmacists and apothecaries to cover up the gnarly taste of their medicine.
I was telling my friend Zoe that marshmallows used to be made from the mallow plant, that grew in marshes. And then I told her that they also used to be medicine. She will henceforth never believe anything credible I have to say. Certifiably.

But look at our nougat. Yum city, right?

Candied orange, toasted almonds and pistachio nougat. I don't know about you but I was NOT excited for nougat. Whenever I think nougat, I think of that irritating crud that gets stuck in your teeth when you eat a Toblerone. So I also associate nougat with Swiss Chalet. Not a good association. But this nougat is NOTHING like that crud. Like anything made by hand. My mind was completely changed about marshmallows, marzipan, and fondant for this same reason. When it's not churned out in a factory where the air smells like Frito Lay chips, it actually turns out pretty good. This nougat is chewy in the best way while still being pillowy. And it's not the 'clingy-chewy', where you think you're gonna rip out your fillings if you eat another piece. I have totally made things like that. Good nougat.

We also made Pate de Fruit (Pat-due-Free) yesterday and it is the candy equivalent of bacon. You will eat EXCESSIVE amounts of it and it 'cures' underneath a centimetre of granulated sugar for at least a day. K, maybe it's not JUST like bacon but it is so good. Again, it's the artisan equivalent of a fuzzy peach (or whatever fruit puree you choose to make it out of). I'm sure if Epic Meal Time found out about Pate de Fruit there would be a shirt that read "Pate de Fruit Pate de Fruit Pate de Fruit Pate de Fruit".

This week has been more of midterm prep.
We made more chocolate truffles:

More buns (accompanied by Chef's continuous jokes about 'handling our buns'. Hardy har. My sense of humour is the first to go under stress.)

We may take another stab at eclairs tomorrow but that is somewhat unlikely I think. We are learning plating tomorrow. Pretty desserts. I am forbidden to put a mint sprig on ANYTHING. EVER. Chef ranted about that for probably five straight minutes today. Which I get. Mint is boring. And unless you have halitosis, I would wager, no one eats the mint sprig. You either leave it on the side of your plate or flick it at your eating partner. (Moozh and I never go for dinner anymore. So strange.)
We made sauces today: caramel, chocolate, anglaise, fruit coulis, gelee, to use to plate things tomorrow. Eight hours will be spent on learning the art of the 'smear'. You know the one I'm talking about. The sauce that you always wish there was more of.

My practical is a week from today. Week. From. Today. What is scarier to me is that a week from tomorrow, I will BE in advanced, preparing food for the general public! But what if…what if something totally irrational and unlikely happens! What will I do?! How will I recover from the embarrassment?! Like what if I stab someone (by accident, for real)? What if I give someone food poisoning?! What if my mousse doesn't set?
(I'm trying to poke fun at myself now. I will laugh later. WHEN IT HAPPENS.)

P.S ~ Three points for me: I used the "Hula Dance" from The Lion King in conversation at school the other day. Someone mentioned something about doing the hula (Because this is what you talk about in your down time at pastry school) and of all the songs and quips that could have come to mind, I managed to pull this out, complete with dance moves, I can guarantee you. It's stuck there, in my head. That is core space I am never going to get back, never be able to use for any other useful purpose.

Find some Toblerone. DON'T EAT THE NOUGAT CRAP. Sing a Disney song. Repeat.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Don't be hatin'

Midterm prep!

Post-wedding cakes, there was nary a moment for revelry of any kind or self-congratulatory talk, but for the moment when the other inquisitive -and blindly supportive- students from the other classes came in exclaiming at the cakes, "Oh she say you look so pree-tay!" Directly following, we began prepping and practicing for our practical midterm. Our midterm is made up of a written portion of all of our theory, and then a 4-hour practical exam wherein we are given four products to produce and four hours to do them. Certifiably, our exam includes lemon meringue tarts, chocolate eclairs, semolina bread, and chocolate truffles. Wednesday, we did bread and eclairs as well as fruitcake and brioche tropezianne which were additional pieces to our curriculum -all with a deadline to imitate the exam. Had I left the extra pieces until I had finished my exam prep pieces, I would have finished on time. But I finished ten minutes late. Which means I theoretically failed the exam.

Then I kind of hit a wall Wednesday night. And then I felt like I literally hit a wall on Thursday. In a food prep class, especially one as small as ours, illness circulates like tornado season, running around waving its hands over it's head screaming, 'YOU CAN'T CATCH ME!" Except you CAN catch it and that means that you are sick, lying in the middle of the floor in the dark, possibly groaning. I managed to avoid any serious illness but mine was more a feeling of exhaustion.

I took Thursday to see if I could recoup. It is NOT AN OPTION to be sick during midterms. Anxiety anxiety anxiety. So if I'm gonna get sick I HAVE to get sick now. Knock on wood that was my dose for the season. And turns out I wasn't the only one. I was one of six, or HALF of our class, that was away yesterday and our Chef went home early as well with a raging fever.

So TODAY, we were still down three people but most of us where there and so we took another stab at prepping for the midterm. Today was lemon meringue tarts, as well as ICE CREAM DAY! My chef is Italian and therefore extremely particular about ice cream. He competed in an international gelato competition so he has the right to be. We learned chocolate sorbet, chocolate gelato, vanilla bean gelato, passionfruit sorbet and a lemon granita. The chocolate sorbet was wicked good. It had this sandy texture that no one else liked but me. The passionfruit sorbet was amazeballs, I mean seriously good. Like "eat out of my bare hand in the light of the refrigerator in the middle of the night by myself" good. Embarrassing good.

Lemon Tarts were a good exercise. My lemon filling had the texture of a gel insole because I WAY overcooked it. My first batch of tart shells were adequate. My second set were majestic. And then I went and baked them for forty-five minutes. They came out looking like chocolate tart shells. Dangit. Not good for the exam. My tarts officially don't look like the picture anymore. Without a serious degree of forethought, lemon meringue does not travel well. Looks like shaving cream with toasted coconut in it now. With a tart under there somewhere.

Monday we make pate du fruit and marshmallows!!

Find some ice cream. Find your pyjamas. Eat on the floor. Don't be hatin'. Repeat.