Week Three: Eggs & Gelatin

This week was the first in which we were fully submerged into the program.  Gone were class-long lectures; they were replaced by 20-30 minute discussions and chef demonstrations.  The remaining three and a half hours were ours to create and prepare our recipes for tasting.  The time flew, but not without presenting stress in ensuring our assigned recipes were completed correctly and on time.

Eggs were the focus of class on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, with the greatest attention turned to whipping meringues to the correct peak for various recipes.  On Monday, we created ordinary meringue and Swiss meringue.  As the shaped cookies were baking, we conducted experiments on meringue - adding sugar at different stages, whipping too long, whipping with yolk, etc. - to help us better understand the process of creating a meringue and realize how quickly it could be ruined.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, we utilized our new knowledge on meringues by creating many different types of souffles.  We began with flourless souffles Tuesday evening.  As our practical at the end of this module will be testing our ability to create a perfect flourless souffle, it was quite important to learn the correct technique.  As Mike sat at Yankee stadium watching the Red Sox beat the Yankees, a game to which I had to decline an offered ticket (through a clenched jaw, I might add), I was opening up chocolate souffles, in search of the perfect consistency.

Souffles are a temperamental little dessert and it was eye-opening to see how the pan could go from almost perfect to overdone in less than 30 seconds.  My partner and I did, however, get lucky (I assume luck had a lot to do with it) enough to produce a souffle which the instructor announced would have receive a 100% on the practical.

This perfect consistency was far different than I had expected.  From my past experience with souffles, only by consumption, I thought the souffle was supposed to be cooked all the way through, almost like a tiny cake.  Perhaps it was because my experiences were only a product of Panera's breakfast souffles, but this was, in fact, considered overdone.  The middle is actually supposed to remain a bit unset - gooey, but not too gooey.

We also created flourless fruit-based souffles.  My partner and I worked on the poached pear souffle and cranberry-orange souffle.  These took more time than their chocolate counterpart, as a puree had to be created and cooled before folding in the egg whites.  Although the reviews from other classmates was mixed, I adored the tartness of the cranberry-orange souffle, which also baked to a beautiful, vibrant pink color.

The following day, we set about creating more souffles, only this time flour was used in the recipe.  The starches in the flour helped the souffles set a bit longer before collapsing (quite a sad sight to see when you've put so much effort into creating the little monsters).  I far preferred the taste of the chocolate souffle this evening; the flour helped produce a much heartier taste.

The two other souffles of the evening were a bit more savory than the previous night.  My partner and I produced a praline souffle and souffles a la Suissesse, composed of onion and parmesan cheese and  twice-baked in a pool of heavy cream.

My favorite souffle of the evening, however, was the gruyere souffle with rosemary.  I hope I have the opportunity to share these with you all one morning, perhaps over a lazy Sunday brunch.

Let's just say that after two evenings of producing six souffles and tasting a total of twenty-four, I was happy to move on to a new subject.  We shifted our focus Thursday evening to gelatin, using both the powdered and leaf forms in three different recipes.  Chef Kathryn demonstrated the process of creating marshmallows, in which she used rose water as a flavoring.  

Then we were set loose on the kitchen to create our recipes, my team was assigned milk chocolate panna cotta, espresso marshmallows and caramel gelee.  It was a lighter evening than the previous two and about halfway through, Chef Kathryn offered to prepare hot cocoa to taste-test the rose marshmallows.  She prepared European-style cocoa, which I learned is made of couveture chocolate, heavy cream and a little bit of water.  Delicious.

I was always baffled by how possessive and uptight chefs sometimes appeared on TV, especially if they had invited a guest on their program.  But this week, I really began to understand this attitude.  My partner seemed to always disappear during the more difficult parts of the recipe - whisking, folding, removing items from the oven.  She had difficulty remembering the processes demonstrated by the chef only fifteen minutes prior.  Her meringues still had raw egg whites at the bottom.  It was a struggle to keep my mouth shut and not snatch the whisk from her hand and say, "Just let me do it."  

Along the same lines, we have several students in the class who worked in the work-study program prior to entering the program.  As they already knew the inter-workings of the kitchens and procedures, they were especially helpful during the first week of class as we adjusted to the program and school.  But one of these students thinks that he knows everything.  He will openly correct (even if he is wrong) and criticize people.  Every comment and suggestion is soaked with a "better than thou" attitude.

Luckily, he does often screw up, as he is just like everyone else in the class - if we were already perfect pastry chefs, we wouldn't be there.  But I was proud of myself for demonstrating restraint when he meandered over as I was ladling one of my souffles into the tiny cups.  We were about five minutes behind his team and he apparently had nothing better to do than go around and critique other teams.  

His "Do you need help?" was not offered with a tone of thoughtfulness, but with a scoff and eye rolling.  "No, thank you," I offered, allowing the "I don't need help from someone who over-whips whipped cream" to trail off only in my mind.

My mother continually laughs that I would have received straight P's (perfected) on my preschool report card, if it were not for receiving an M (marginal) in "plays well with others".  After this past week, I believe my performance of this skill should be updated to "improving".

Week Two: Fruit & Eggs

Classes this week were a combination of further introductions to basic concepts as well as evenings spent almost entirely baking and experimenting.  When I'm on my feet and working on the recipes, I cannot believe how quickly the four hours slip away.

We also had our first quiz this week; this one was on sanitation and weights/measurements.  I am happy to report I received a 100%.

Monday and Tuesday we prepared pate de fruit, which we made with raspberry preserves.  They were a quite gummy and very sweet treat.  I took them to the office and was a little worried people would think they were too sweet; but they seemed to disappear without incident.

We learned how to properly use our knives while cutting fruits.  The knives felt very different from the ones I have at home, so that took some adjusting on my part.  We worked on peeling, slicing and wedging both pears and apples.  The pears were especially difficult since they are not in season.  Strawberries were a bit easier and we learned to hull, quarter, slice and fan.  

We also supremed oranges.  This cut looked so beautiful and professional during the instructor's demonstration, but the thin, mutilated little slices on my cutting board did not do this technique any justice.  

For practice outside of class, I now won't let myself eat an orange without supreming it first - a rule that can be quite tedious when all you want is an orange slice - but I have nonetheless improved immensely in the past few days.

Wednesday was the first day we baked for the entire class, minus the 20 minute preparation lecture at the beginning of the evening.  We worked in teams and were expected to complete five recipes in the remainder of class and have them displayed for tasting at the end of the evening.  Needless to say, I was happy I had thoroughly read through all my recipes before class, trying to make helpful notes for myself along the way.

We started by candying orange peel.  As the peels needed to boil four separate times, we also began on the Poached Pears in Wine.  While the orange peels continued to boil and the pears simmered in the wine, we began slicing apples to prepare Baked Apples.  

We had to use a mandolin for the apple slices - a tool that I have been lusting after for the apartment - but I found I was quite terrified to use it!  This mandolin was not like the cute, compact OXO models at Sur la Table; it was a commercial-sized stainless steel model.  You could feel the force as it pulled the slices of apple away from the fruit.

After the apples were dipped in sugar water and placed in the convection oven to bake, the orange peels finished boiling and were now ready to simmer.  I checked on the poached pears, but they still needed to soften quite a bit.  So we began on the Roasted Pears and Figs.  I couldn't help but think of Cabbie as coated the fruits with ground ginger, lemon zest, dark rum and cinnamon.

Once the roasting pan was in the oven, my partner and I moved onto slicing the strawberries which were to be mascerated with sugar, balsamic vinegar and an herb of our choosing.  As soon as the strawberry salad was in the refrigerator, it was time for everything to be taken out of the ovens and plated for tasting.

My favorite dessert of the evening was actually the simplest of them all - baked apples.  Crisp and crunchy like a chip, but with just enough sweetness to not overpower the taste of the fruit.  Mike enjoyed the samples I brought home, so I imagine this will become a fall staple in our apartment.

If I was a fan of pears, or if they had been a bit riper, I think I really would have enjoyed the Roasted Pears and Figs.  I happen to think the warm-from-the-oven fruit would be quite delectable over a big scoop of vanilla ice cream in the summer.

We wrapped up the week by beginning a discussion on eggs.  We also had to separate eggs (thank you Mum for teaching me this so I knew what I was doing!) and then we performed different experiments whipping egg whites and yolks.

We also prepared a sabayon with raspberries (pictured at the beginning of the post).  I was very pleased with the presentation, even if I did not like the dessert.  Sabayon is very rich, much like a custard.  I did, however, enjoy the contrasting taste of the marsala wine in the dessert.

It was an exciting week.  I'm starting to become more comfortable in the kitchen, as I have started learning where everything is.  I really enjoyed the evenings where we spent the majority of the class working, which is good, since we will very rarely have long lectures like during the first week.

This weekend I am practicing my chocolate writing and knife skills as well as preparing for next week's readings and recipes.  Funny how homework can actually be quite enjoyable!

MORE Half Marathon

I finished. That's the most important thing. Every time I start getting frustrated, I keep telling myself: I finished.

I already knew the weather was going to be unseasonably warm and I was already nervous about the prospect of that - weather was the one factor I couldn't control. I slept well through the night and woke-up around 6:15 Sunday morning. It was already above 70 degrees.

I had a little bit of coffee and a banana with peanut butter. I nervously pinned and re-pinned my race number on my shirt. At about 7:15 AM, Mike and I headed towards Central Park. The butterflies really set in when I saw all the women fluttering around the start line. Mike tried to calm my nerves, but 13.1 miles suddenly seemed like a much bigger task than I had imagined.

Mike kissed me good bye and good luck and I lined-up in my corral. Then, the announcement was made that the full marathon was cancelled due to the extreme heat. All the marathoners could run the half-marathon. In addition, the half-marathon was made into a "fun run", where no official times would be kept in hopes people would not attempt to overexert themselves.

While this development didn't matter so much for me, I felt awful for the women who had spent the last four months training for the marathon - I couldn't imagine how heart-wrenching that news must have been.

The race began with little incident. My body felt good and my splits were exactly where I wanted them - I ran the first four miles between 7:20 and 7:40 each. I was more than on pace to hit my goal.

But after I passed the marker for Mile 4, I started feeling weak. There was no doubt the heat was starting to have a huge effect on my performance. By mile 5, I was dizzy and dehydrated. Eight miles to go? I didn't feel like I could walk eight steps without collapsing.

To make matters worse, the water stations were completely spread out on the fully exposed east side of the Park. I couldn't get my electrolyte balance up high enough to regain my starting strength. I felt like my body was converting the water straight into sweat.

To make matters worse, I started to worry I wouldn't finish. I kept thinking how easily I had completed so many of my long runs; not only finished them, but felt like I could have kept going. I wasn't even at mile 7. I felt defeated; I wanted to cry - partly because of the pain, partly because I was so upset.

But my body didn't have any water or salt to spare on something as silly as tears. I had another lap, another 6 miles to go. I knew I wasn't going to let myself stop, so I might as well toughen up.

I don't know that I toughened-up, but I did keep going. Instead of thinking about how much further I had to go, I tried thinking about why I was here. That's right - I not only signed up for this, I paid for this!

I thought back to elementary school, to the recreational soccer league I begged my parents to let me join. They were probably more than a little confused by my request, given the fact that I was not exactly interested in playing sports or particularly coordinated. But they handed over the $50 registration fee as well as their Saturday mornings for the next few months so I could play.

Fairly early in the season, my dad showed up a few minutes before practice concluded. When we got home, he proudly exclaimed, "She's a good runner! She doesn't run like a girl - runs with with her head high and has a good kick." For a girl who proved to not be terribly gifted at soccer (only one notable play the entire season), this compliment was the highlight of the season. Even as a kid, you don't forget something like that.

I thought about back in high school, when my Mum and I watched coverage of a half-marathon in Virginia Beach over the Sunday paper. "You could do that," she said to me. I rolled my eyes and returned to my Fruity Pebbles. Evidently, she had forgotten my detest for running. "Why would I ever run thirteen miles?" I quipped - probably with a much snottier teenage attitude than I recall. She shrugged as she sipped her coffee, "I don't know, because you could."

It didn't mean much to me then. But that little exchange has gotten me through more than a few tough miles. She already knew I could do something like this, long before I believed in myself enough to actually go out and run it.

I thought about all of the encouraging words from family and friends. I thought about how Mike would never let me forget if I gave up and quit. More importantly, I realized I wouldn't let myself forget if I quit.

It was a battle and I'm not really sure what kept my legs move across the finish line, but I made it in just under two hours. My finisher's medal felt heavy around my neck as I struggled to hold my cup of Gatorade and look for Mike. I didn't have to look far, as he appeared behind me - ready to congratulate and console as he knew I hadn't hit my time. He boosted my esteem and made me laugh as I tried to catch my breath.

Two days later, I'm still sore. I've started to think optimistically about not hitting my goal time. This was, after all, my first race over five miles. If I had just gone out on my first attempt and nailed it, maybe I would start to lose some appreciation for the distance and never had the drive to go out and do it again, just faster than before.

And that's the funny thing. I've never had my body feel that weak before and I've never had to physically push myself as hard as I did Sunday morning. I detested the last 9 miles of the race. I was drenched in sweat, Gatorade, dirt and water when I crossed the finish line. My whole body ached Monday morning.

But I can't wait to do it again.

T-12 Hours

The half-marathon is about 12 hours away.  I picked up my race number this afternoon and think it must be a good sign that it is Valerie's birth year and date, just backwards.

I have combed over the songs on my iPod playlist and enjoyed a carb-filled pasta dinner.  I will layout my outfit as soon as the Red Sox win this game.

I'm going to have Mike bring my phone to the race tomorrow, so I will send you all a mass email to let you know I have survived.

Thank you all for your encouraging words and thoughts today - they really mean more than you know!

Week One: Mise en Place

What a week!  After months of anticipation, the first day of pastry school finally arrived.

The nerves did not set-in until Sunday night.  I was packing my bags, trying to make sure I had everything for both a workout at lunch and class later that evening.  My bags were quadruple checked just to be sure nothing had been overlooked.

I tried not to think about it too much at work during the day, but this proved to be a little difficult with nothing to keep my mind busy.  I was not nervous about not doing well or not being able to handle the schedule.  I knew the nerves were only due to beginning something new, something unknown.

As registration began at 5:15 PM, my boss had given me permission to leave work about twenty minutes early, so that I wouldn't be late.  When I arrived at the registrar's office, before I had time to remove my soaked winter coat, I was plopped on a chair, my ID photo was snapped, I was handed a bag containing all my books and I was assigned to a locker.  "Go get dressed and be in room 502 by 6 PM," the woman said hurriedly, but with a welcoming smile.

The week was filled with orientation, introductions to classmates, terminology, equipment and ingredients.  The class size is small, only eight people, which will not only allow for greater attention from the chef-instructors, but also allowed us to become comfortable with each other by the end of the week.  The mix of people in the class is extraordinary: another girl in finance, a lawyer, a court reporter getting ready to retire and I am by far the youngest of the group.  Our chef-instructor, Kathryn Gordon, earned her MBA from NYU Stern and worked in finance before working at some very notable restaurants in NYC.

We had a dairy tasting Tuesday night.  And if that sounds delicious, I would encourage you to open your refridgerator and try butter milk, half-and-half, heavy cream, margarine, unsalted butters, salted butters, ricotta cheese, mascorpone cheese and cream cheese.  Then, open your cupboards and try eating shortening, lard, evaporated milk and sweet and condensed milk.  Still sound appetizing?  

The importance of the tasting was not lost on anyone - we all appreciated we need to understand the tastes of our ingredients and how one brand may be more desirable than another.  But I don't think anyone was in the mood for a milkshake after class.

The new schedule finally caught-up with me Wednesday morning.  Up at 6 AM, work until 5 PM, class until 10 PM, study until 12 AM.  And, one of those strange coincidences of life, I was actually busy and stressed at work, covering my supervisor's work while she was on jury duty.

On Thursday, we got to bake for the first time: gingersnaps.  The chef-instructor made it clear that she was there just to observe the process.  We paired-up and got to work.  Setting up the KitchenAid mixer, I realized I had never been so nervous to bake before.  It's always such a relaxing activity for me, whether I'm by myself or lucky enough to be in the kitchen with my Mum.

But, my runner's mind took over and calmed me down.  "Relax, it's the first effort.  Just focus on the process."  Working myself into a nervous ball of energy certainly was not going to help anything.

The results were varied between every group.  One group placed all 40 cookies on the bake sheet and wound up with one large, square cookie.  Our cookies would have benefited from an extra minute or so in the oven.  But all-in-all, everyone worked well together.

One new term we learned this week, of which I took a particular liking to, was mise en place.  It is the french phrase for "(to put) everything in it's place."  In the kitchen, this means having your ingredients, equipment and work area ready before beginning the recipe.  At work on Thursday, as I sat exhausted from the week, the word popped into my head.  

I began to consider mise en place as more of a state of being than just a phrase.  Although I was exhausted from the week, I woke up each morning wishing I could just head straight to class; I am truly interested in the readings and the lessons.  Suddenly, with the pursuit of something I truly have a passion for, everything seems to be falling into place.  I am again back at a state of mise en place in my life.