One month.

One month since we broke in callouses on our feet and shoulders. One month since we flew over Nunavut, hairline streams running to the Arctic. One month since RyanAir and sitting on the floor in Gatwick dreaming of Ireland.

In that month we've seen nine countries and been to ten different places. We've gone from English to Gaelic, French to Dutch, Spanish back to French. We heard German and now we're patching together Czech.

We've eaten elegant and we've eaten off of paper napkins. We've seen successes and we've seen bummers.

Atlantic. Mediterranean.

Port cities. Inland.

Hot. Cold.

Too much wind. No wind.

We've made generalizations and we've been surprised. We've made a list of places on next time and some places aren't on it.

Round one. Who's up for round two?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ready Set Sleep.

 We're catching our breath. We're raising our glasses. We're packing our bags. 

Then we're unpacking them. We're booking flights. We're reorganizing. We're saying goodbye.

The past two and a half weeks have been, to be blunt, totally out of control. We graduated, we hosted family, we celebrated. And then we promptly sold everything we owned. We crammed what was worth keeping into the back of a jeep and wove through the mountains, belting out Piano Man and chugging Red Bull just to top up the fumes we've been running on for the past few weeks. (Do you ever notice Piano Man is always on the radio? Especially when the radio keeps cutting out through the mountains. So many opportunities and I STILL don't know all the words.)

But we are here now, with family, chillin and relaxin all cool. There've been cloudless HOT days (a welcome change) and plenty of wine to go around. In a week and a half, we fly to London whether all of our shit is in a pile or not, whether we feel like we've done all we can or not. And for the trip of a lifetime, that's a pretty romantic concept. To be swept off your feet by the world and it's people, everything that is beautiful about it. 

I'm going to sleep at a scotch distillery. I'm going to see the Berlin Wall. I still don't have a place to sleep in Paris but I'm going to be there regardless. I'm going to see the highest city in the world. Red Square. The Outback. Angkor Wat. And I'm going to digest it all here. 

It's actually happening. 

My husband has been more to me than I ever could have asked for. In all of the ways that I am a very bad person to travel with, he has worked with me and fought with me everyday to make this process meaningful and to make this trip one that we will never forget. Because we will most likely never get another shot to do it this way. I am reminded daily that I could not do this life with anyone else. And I never would want to. 

Turn to your love. Now turn back to me. Now look back at them and think, "My life is going to be far better than I can even imagine." 

Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Raaaaaaaaaw!

And here's to my first Full Moon Party. Cheerio!

 

Touché, toffee pudding

 I was beaten by a sticky toffee pudding. Powerless against a sticky toffee pudding. 

I feel like I have been on a marathon of dessert service lately. Broken up only by two days of production where I glazed two consecutive cakes that fell apart due to assembly-related errors. I also made some of the most hideous happy birthday signs and one "congratulations on thirty years with Shelfspace Mark." In my opinion, if you have text that you want on a cake, it's like twitter. You have only so much you are allowed to say. 

So then today. I was not totally excited to serve but I was excited to try out something different. To do something fresh and springy, something maybe a bit more palatable than a chocolate are with curry spices. I don't know if I isn't don't have the skill but today was not an exercise in mainstream dessert experimentation. 

 

I stumbled upon (and yet I did so without StumbleUpon) a video on CHOW by Mindy Segal. CHOW does these cool video segments called "Go-To dish". For some people, like Molly Ringwald, it's a roasted chicken recipe that they always use. It could be a cocktail, a soup, bread, anything really. CHOW introduced me to Mindy Segal and I fell in LOVE with her. She's a James Beard nominated chef, which means she's talented 'fer realz', and she owns a restaurant put of Chicago called Hot Chocolate. *Check it. They have marshmallows on their menu*. I am absolutely prepared to monologue  and dictate the entire video but you should just go watch it because it's awesome. But what I found so fascinating in the video was the sense of creativity and potential. Flavors that are exciting. Textures. So she makes a fruit consommé. When I showed Matt the first thing out of his mouth was "that's not a real consommé' and it's not but we pastry chefs...sometimes we just don't understand. We play with concepts and sometimes we play with concepts A LOT. *Notice how I said 'we pastry chefs' as if I am one. Self-talk. Self-talk.* 

 A fruit consommé, or more prosaically, a fruit soup had been on my mind since I saw the video. Every time it has come around to coming up with a dessert, I have thought 'should I do it today'? Every time I have ended up with a 'no' based on the fact that no one would order it. Making a dessert that doesn't sell can be deflating, even if you really like it. But today I bit the bullet and I indulged my soup-lust.

I started with a strawberry purée, which has such a phenomenal strawberry flavor and then I simmered it with some dried lavender, some sweet ginger (that pink stuff you put on sushi), some black pepper, and a squeeze of lemon. I thinned it out a bit with some water so it didn't taste just like purée. I spent so much time in the culinary dry storage picking out spices for the components of my dish. I felt like Baba Yaga, eye of newt and that kind of stuff. each time I walked past the culinary pastry station where sticky toffee pudding was being prepped. Take my 'Creme brûlée rant' and sub in 'sticky toffee puding' and you've got my inner monologue. "Ooooh sticky toffee pudding. Be still my beating heart." With gusto, of course, 

I was reading through Michel Roux's dessert book the other day and he had a recipe for apple gelees. They were these gorgeous champagne-colored cubes, clear and flawless and he said he often uses them either as a component to his dish or as a garnish. I was going to do an angel food cake, because of its light texture and great crust, but I knew that it was going to get hella soggy in the soup without a bottom. With this in my mind, I grabbed some apple juice and infused it with some fresh tarragon. Tarragon, you say? I have the greatest chef for me. Blessed in basic training and blessed in advanced. My Chef in advanced seems to understand how to motivate me. She also understands my palate and how, therefore, to intrigue me. I love strawberries and balsamic vinegar. It is a slam dunk in my book. Macerate some strawberries in some balsamic vinegar and some sugar over night, you have the best topper for ice cream ever. Ever. Chef suggested the quality of tarragon, being anise-y, citrusy and slightly herbaceous, as another great foil for strawberries. My palate was going crazy today. Total sensory overload but it was wonderful. I even took a core out of the angel food and filled it with some vanilla chantilly cream with sme minced tarragon in it to tie things all together.

So I have all of my components together and for the very first time I have having a very relaxed time of dessert service. I realize, in retrospect, that I COMPLETELY forgot about the customers. I was just having fun playing in the kitchen. Then I had to go get changed into my serving jacket. I come back and I have this moment. No one is going to want this. Everyone in my class was clamorous to try it. The strawberry soup was so fragrant. The angel food had great lift (and consequently a great collapse). The gelee providing one hell of a great snack. I candied some slivered hazelnuts for a bit of crunch on top. It was going to be a thing of beauty.

I sold four. Count 'em. Not a huge hit. The sticky toffee pudding sold out. My pride was wounded, I will admit. Wounded in the best way possible but still a crushing blow to the ego.

After dessert service closed, however, the masses descended and my classmates got their taste. All comments tasted together, gelee, soup and angel food with the chantilly. It was just a mouthful of flavor. So despite my loss in the dessert service race, I still think I made one hell of a dessert, one I would love to make again. My plating was not thought through. The gelee screwed up the soup decor every time. The plate didn't have enough color in my opinion. The cake needed some TLC in the worst way. All good things to think on. 

And it's still better than sticky toffee pudding, I swear to God!

It is Easter. Go find a sunset. Drink some wine, eat some cheese, watch it set. Repeat. Easter Peeps optional. 

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. 

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.