Malawry

I knew they made Breakstones, but I have not heard of this Hotel Bar. This is a very, very important matter.

Fat Guy, I am indeed starting to see some of those differences. Some of them are fairly obvious; I don't get to decide for myself what I'd like to cook each day, I have less time than I'd give myself for home cooking, and I have to coordinate with other people. Also, the whole "mise" setup is totally different. Mise is way more important in the professional kitchen than in the home kitchen, and my attitude towards it has changed to the point where my home cooking is much more professional in the way I plan and approach it. We haven't spent much time talking about food costing or menu planning yet, but those are essential aspects of professional cooking that home cooks don't have to deal with on the same level. As for my opinions on those differences, well, they're hard to explain since they're still somewhat nebulous. It definitely takes different skill sets to be a good amateur cook than a good professional cook. I'm still learning about what those are. Rachel, no, I haven't talked to my classmates or to the school about my diary. I keep going back and forth on the subject, and I'm a bit surprised nobody has found it yet (or if they've found it, nobody has mentioned it to me). Before ya'll razz me about being here during the school day: I am still sick. I decided to come home after today's demo rather than sharing my effluvia with the whole school.

I'm already out of the closet about my food geekiness.

Thanks, Cabrales. Glad to hear I'll be supported even if I'm not No. 1. Nobody puts pressure on me as much as I do. However, I betcha my parents (who read these entries) and most of the folks who read this would enjoy hearing about it if I graduate at the top of my class.

Thursday, August 8 Before I became a vegetarian in 1992, I consumed very few variety or game type meats. I think the only vaguely exotic flesh I ate was pheasant, and I only had that once. As a result, many of the things we have cooked at school I have tasted for the first time in my life. Today, we made something I had not even seen in its raw state, much less sampled: rabbit. Chef Peter took apart the whole animal, and the carcass looked sadly bunnylike. The flesh looked a lot like chicken does, and the meat is fabricated into the same parts as chicken, but I don’t think it tastes much like chicken. It’s closer to pork in flavor. I was surprised at how non-meaty it tasted. I expected more game flavor even though the rabbit we got was farm-raised. The cuts shrink up into really tiny pieces when they’re cooked, and we didn’t debone them, so I ate even less of the meat at lunch than I normally eat. I have none of the ability to handle bone-in meat expertly that most people have by the time they reach my age. I can barely wrest a bite off the bone without straining with my knife and fork. I didn’t really make anything at lunch today; I served as “mise chef” for everybody else on my team. We made an excellent gumbo as our starter. I’d never tried andouille sausage before, and tasso ham was also new to me. I loved both meats. I seem to be becoming a cured meat addict. I chopped a lot of parsley for garnishes while preparing for lunch. We use parsley almost every day at school, so I’m getting pretty quick at mincing it. Parsley evokes a lot of memories for me; I identify it with Passover and with my deceased grandmother. We eat it dipped in salt water every year during the Passover seder; as an adult, this is the only time I eat parsley on its own. As a child, I ate it whenever we visited my dad’s parents. My grandmother grew it in her garden, and I’d always pick a piece when I walked by the bed where it had been planted. I have fond memories of my grandmother and of visiting her house, and Passover is my favorite holiday. The ability of aromas to evoke memories is well-documented, and it’s distracting that I don’t have time to enjoy following those thoughts while I’m at school. I need to just chop the parsley and be done with it. As a food lover, I attach many memories and emotions to foods, and parsley isn’t the only example I encounter regularly at school. I’m finding that professional cooking requires an ironic degree of dissociation from food. If I think too much about rabbits or get lost in a parsley reverie, I won’t get my work done. But if I didn’t care so much about those things, I wouldn’t be entering this field in the first place. I’ve always thought that the best cooks were those who got intimate with their food, who really cared about it and who enjoyed emotional things associated with food. The best cooks are also efficient. I strive to be both passionate and efficient. I think most of what I need to know is efficiency. Friday, August 9 I woke up feeling a little sick this morning, but not sick enough stay home. Chef Somchet had told me that today’s menu would include eclairs, because she knows that eclairs are one of my favorite desserts, and so I felt a particular obligation to show up and go into pastry today. Also, a visitor was slated to join me for lunch: our own Edemuth was planning to come check the school out and attach a few names to faces. I think I was dragging because of not having a full weekend last weekend; I knew that by Friday I’d be pretty run-down, and I guess my immune system is weakening as a result. I forced myself out of bed and went to school. After the morning demo, my team agreed to let me do pastry, so I happily went into the pastry kitchen and started setting up mise. I worked on the pate a chou for the shells and the patisserie cream for the filling at the same time, and within twenty minutes the pastry was in the oven and the cream was in the refrigerator. I’ve made both of these things before, so they were simple to put together. Chef Somchet had suggested we flavor our patisserie cream with coffee flavoring. I asked her if I could try a mocha filling (because we all need more chocolate in our lives) and she was very enthusiastic about the idea. So I melted some chocolate over a bain-marie to stir into my patisserie cream. When it was ready, I asked Chef Somchet to come show me how much chocolate to use. She took my melted chocolate and immediately added it to my (well-chilled) cream. Of course, the chocolate broke up into bits since it hadn’t been tempered with the cold cream, and so I had an unusuable chocolate-chip product. “Ohhhhhhhhh. This is not good. It’s okay, I’ll fix it.” Chef Somchet and I whipped out another batch of patisserie cream in record time, and she showed me how to add the chocolate so that it wouldn’t seize up. I stirred my cream constantly as it chilled, and then I filled and glazed my eclairs. Edemuth showed up right around then, and it was lunch service time, so I gave her a quick tour of the school and then we joined my team for lunch. Chef Peter happened to be assigned to my table, so Edemuth got a chance to meet him as well as classmates Chin, Zoe, and Ivelisse. We had a roasted tomato-eggplant soup, coq au vin with broccoli and rice pilau, and then my eclairs. I had to leave the table between the soup course and the entrée to finish with my eclairs; I wanted to decorate the tops with fondant and chocolate. Edemuth, Zoe and George came in to check the eclairs out while I was in there. I had a nice time putting spirals, squiggly lines, and quadrillage marks all over my eclairs. They looked perfect. Right around then, Chef Francois asked to see me. Since the first full grading period is over, all of our grades have been put together into a single overall grade, and Chef Francois was doing brief consultations with each student about how we were doing. I popped into his office and he went over my grades. He said my classroom participation grade was one of the better ones in the class, and he was impressed with my performance on the written exam. Then he asked if I wanted to know my class ranking. I said, “Of course.” “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “You really want to know?” “Yes, Chef Francois, I’d like to know my standing.” “Congratulations.” I blinked. “I’m sorry?” “Congratulations.” “Are you saying I’m first in my class?” “Yes. Imagine there’s a railroad track around this school. You’re on it. Stay on it.” I went back to the kitchen to finish my lunch. As soon as I got to the table, Zoe and Chin asked me how I ranked. I always answer truthfully when people ask me such questions…I’m not exactly a private person, as this diary shows…but I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell them. I couldn’t help it, though. I started smiling. Chef Peter asked, “What are you, number 2 or 3?” “No. I’m number 1.” There were lots of congratulations around my table. People have asked me about competition among students, and I’ve said it doesn’t exist, but I think it’s crept in over the past few weeks. I don’t usually ask people their grades, but I have asked the student who I assumed was first in our class how she’s done because I wanted to know how I compared to her. Plenty of people have asked me how I’m doing on various things. There’s not much grade secrecy and now that I think about it, I realize that there’s plenty of people measuring themselves against one another. For that matter, I’ve always regarded grades as a somewhat artificial construct, but at the same time I care deeply about them. If Chef Peter thought I was number 2 or 3, the point spread must be pretty close among the top students. Now that I know I’m on top I’m determined to stay here. I debated whether or not to even write in this diary about my standing. By making my standing public, I’ve increased the pressure on myself, since now I’ll have to report what happens in subsequent grading periods. Also, I don’t think I’m the best in my class at any one thing, except perhaps taking written tests. I have so much to learn in the kitchen. I’m still deglazing with gastric and gouging my thumb on mandolines. As lunch was wrapping up, Chef Francois wandered around the kitchen. We’d been talking about tofu at my table, so I asked him if we learn any tofu at school. I meant the question jokingly, but Chef Francois took my question very seriously. (He takes all food-related questions seriously.) “Well, you know how to saute, right? You know how to fry and how to poach. So you could do these things to tofu. What else is there to learn? Unless you want to know how to make tofu, that is.” I told him I’d actually love to learn how to make tofu. He shook his head. “We don’t teach that here. It’s not classic French.” He wandered off. I’m going to have nightmares about somebody serving me tofu poached in a court-bouillon for weeks now.

I try to do at least some "homework" when I cook at home nowadays, but that usually means a twist on something we covered in class. The brownies are all me though.

Mussels with white wine-rosemary-cream-shallot sauce, baguettes to soak up the juices Mesclun with balsamic vinaigrette Freshly made fettucine with shrimp and fresh tomato sauce Scharffen Berger brownies.

Doesn't sound too far off from the exams I'll face later in the year. I know "market baskets" figure into evaluations closer to November and December, when classes are winding down.

Hi Sandra, thanks for posting. Congrats on finishing at Le Cordon Bleu! What was on your final exam?

I have learned the Italian technique independently, but we have not yet gotten to the French technique in school. I suggest the Italian technique may be more vegan-appropriate.

Yours must be much silkier than mine, then. I'll have to try it next time I make it. Everything is better with cream!

I've made it vegan before. I think all-wine would be a little too fruity, personally. If you don't feel up for making a stock, the Imagine vegetarian stocks in shelf-stable boxes work pretty well. I like to use dried mushrooms in my risotto, and usually add the soaking water to the stock bath. Good olive oil works well in lieu of butter, and you really don't need cheese to make it a good dish. I've never used cream in my risotto. What do you do with it? Use it to finish the dish?

If Chris was a character on a sitcom, I wouldn't believe such a guy could actually exist.

Monday, August 5 Today was the Duck Press Golf Classic. Instead of going to school, sitting through a demo, and preparing lunch, we went to a golf club, catered lunch, and then packed up. I was on the largest team, reporting to the school at 8am to pack up remaining items and bring them to the club. I arrived close to 7:30am. We dickered around for about 45 minutes and then we loaded up our cars with the lunch food and drove over to the club in caravan fashion. Once we got to the club, we unloaded into the kitchen from the loading dock. The kitchen at the club is much larger and dirtier than the one at L’academie (which is small and sparkles from a daily scrubbing). They have a serious dishwashing machine and other cool equipment that the school lacks. We wandered around a little and checked out the large ballrooms and the generous balcony overlooking the golf course. The balcony had been used for breakfast service, which the pastry students plus a team of four members of my class had served to golf classic participants. We were invited to pick over whatever was left of the breakfast pastries before the pastry students packed them up, so I went to investigate. As I was selecting a cream cheese and apricot pinwheel, one of the pastry students asked me if that was my picture in this morning’s Washington Post. I mentally reviewed why I might have appeared in the paper (I haven’t committed any crimes, and last I checked, I wasn’t dead or injured due to newsworthy circumstances) and came up blank. “There was a picture of the chefs at the Julia Child dinner.” Oh, right! I immediately asked if she had the paper with her, but of course she didn’t. Then I asked the club’s manager, fellow students, and the people at the club’s front office if they had the paper. Nobody had it. After my search for the paper, students started drifting back into the kitchen and getting started on lunch food. Chin and Drew got busy with the flank steaks and several pans of coq au vin, a few people were sent to work on assembling the vegetable salads, and I was teamed with Jessie to work on the fruit salad. Jessie is Panamanian, and is one of two people in my class who is fluent in Spanish. She’s got a ready smile and an acerbic wit, and she’s got an independent streak deeper than the Grand Canyon. I like Jessie quite a lot; she’s a strong personality, but she doesn’t steamroller people. It’s fun to talk to an opinionated person who actually likes hearing other opinions. We got cracking on some pineapples, cantaloupe and honeydew melons. The salad took us about 40 minutes to assemble; it also included blueberries, watermelon, mangoes, raspberries, and a orange simple syrup which I think was leftover from our tests. I had a nice time getting to know Jessie better. I was supposed to go to Equinox restaurant last week for Restaurant Week, but I ended up having to change plans and so I gave my reservation to Jessie (who had been dismayed at how early Equinox booked up given the special promotions). She gave me a rundown of the meal she had, which included a barbequed salmon entrée. Once the fruit salad was together we split off and I helped assemble cheese plates. Then we started getting closer to service, so Jessie and I went into the ballroom and helped the lone waitress load ice and water into the glasses. I discovered that I am terrible at this job, and I dribbled water and dropped ice all over the place. I got better after a few tables, but I’ve never worked as a waitress and so I’ve never had to develop the skills it requires. Eventually, people started trickling in from the golf course, and I took out trays of freshly fried handmade egg rolls with a sweet chile dipping sauce. People were very happy to see me after being on the golf course all morning, and I was called “beautiful” and “amazingly talented” even though I didn’t make the egg rolls myself. They were pretty good, and we all snarfed many in the kitchen before circulating them to our guests. (The things you don’t see behind the scenes at a catering gig!) Things moved rather rapidly from there. I helped serve the salads, and then tried to pitch in with busing tables and breaking down the buffet. There were stupid quantities of leftover food. Many students were able to take home whole flank steaks. I scammed about a pound of smoked salmon, plus a big box of grilled vegetables for my household. We also left a lot of food at the club for their staff to enjoy. I’ve thought about today a lot, and come to the conclusion that I don’t much care for catering. I didn’t feel as energized as I’ve felt in restaurant kitchens, and I think the pressure of placing so many dishes on a buffet at once in large qualities is far more annoying than several hours of steadily streaming orders in a restaurant. Even more obnoxious is plating a catered meal, which requires huge numbers of absolutely identical plates such as those we produced at the Julia Child dinner. I hadn’t really considered catering as a possible career path, and from what little I’ve seen I was right not to do so. I stopped by a convenience store on the way home and picked up today’s Post. There I am, on page C3. Classmate Melanie surmises that I’ve used up my 15 minutes of culinary fame right there, but I hope not. I was listed simply as “staff,” after all. Tuesday, August 6 Back to the regular grind today. We sat through a demo and then got to work on a primarily vegetarian menu: vegetables a la greque, Greek salad, quiche du jour, and pecan pie with maple ice cream. (Chin’s comment: (insert grimace) “This is right up your alley, isn’t it?”) I took charge of the quiches and made a batch of pate brisee. I decided to do individual quiches instead of two large ones like most teams produced, since there’s something special about being served an individual tart. Everybody wanted bacon in theirs, but without the bacon the whole meal would have been meat-free. Since it was Tuesday, the second session students were around for their weekly class and a demo. Today’s visiting chef was Todd Gray of Equinox, where I sent Jessie last week. I was helping Melanie prep some of her vegetables for the greque when I asked Chef Peter if he could show me how to tournee a mushroom. (A tourneed mushroom looks fluted.) Chef Todd walked through the main kitchen as Chef Peter was showing me the knife cuts, and he got all excited and said, “I love fluting mushrooms!” He came over and took my paring knife from me (Chef Peter had my tournee knife) and immediately produced a beautiful, evenly tourneed cap. After he and Chef Peter finished having fun with our mushrooms, I tried my hand at it. I’m embarrassingly bad, which sucks since I’m finally getting decent at tourneeing things like potatoes. I wonder if I will make mushroom tournees a point of pride like I did with the potato tournees; if I have time I may practice on a small basket this weekend. As we were finishing our quiches during lunch service, I asked Chef Peter when the task list for post-lunch cleanup would rotate. “Right now, and you’re doing it.” I stared at him for a moment and then went to retrieve the list from the last two 2-week periods. I redistributed names across the tasks, trying to be as fair as possible. Nobody complained seriously when they looked up to see what their jobs would be. I moved myself to floors from my last job of cleaning the main kitchen. Floors seems pretty easy, but you get less of a break because you can’t really mop until everybody on kitchen and dish duty finishes up and gets out of the way. After break, Chef Somchet did a demo on tomorrow’s dessert, and then she let us go 15 minutes early to thank us for our work at the golf classic. We trundled out of the classroom, too exhausted to celebrate. Wednesday, August 7 There wasn’t much to report from today. We alternated between demo and tending the blanquette de veau we prepared for lunch early in the morning, and once the demos wrapped up we went into the kitchen and got to work. I took charge of our starter, moules marineres…mussels in a white wine broth with a touch of cream. I’d never handled mussels before, although I’ve eaten them in restaurants. My team was serving Chef Francois and his three guests, who I believe were a French couple and their son who looked to be around 20 years old. Chef Francois quizzed me about the mussels after they ate them, and seemed pleased with my execution of the dish. It included a splash of Pernod and a BG with some fennel seeds, but it wasn’t deeply anise-y. After lunch, cleanup and break, we had our third visit from Chris the sanitation instructor. He showed us a British video about exactly what happens when somebody ingests salmonella. It was a bit hokey, but I appreciated the detailed explanation of why those with salmonella food poisoning get sick and feel sore and achy. Chris spared us his video on hand washing, thankfully, and he even let us go a little early.

Some clubs have an annual minimum. Minimums at some clubs may exclude lunch business if they're city clubs. Many minimums exclude alcohol. The ones that don't scare me.

I worked as an editor for three years at a trade association representing private clubs until I quit my job in June to go to culinary school. I'm not a member of a private club, nor is my family, and I have only visited and dined in a few, but I followed the industry quite closely until very recently. As the dining public demands better food, clubs are learning to adjust. Some clubs, of course, are ahead of that curve. Clubs like the Duquesne Club in Pittsburgh are known for their food, and clubs like the Olympic Club in San Francisco have to be good to compete with the finer restaurants situated near their clubhouses. For better club food, you generally have to hit a city club in a major metropolitan area with sophisticated diners. Private clubs are often the only employers out there who will support the Certified Master Chef certification. They'll pay for their executive chef to prepare for the test, and then they'll pay the test fees. A very high percentage of CMCs work in private clubs. Now, the relevance of the CMC designation is debatable, but the fact is that the test takes an incredible amount of technical skill to pass even if creativity, an educated palate, and other factors get overlooked. These days, many private clubs are adding wine cellars, and there are private clubs known for their extensive wine selections. I'm not a wine enthusiast, but I understand that clubs encourage their wine-aficionado members to get involved in the club's wine program, and many clubs develop strong wine programs based on this member involvement and interest. Many of the new wine cellars being added to clubs are designed as dining spaces, and some are set up for conducting tastings and can host special events. There's an effort to integrate wine and food at private clubs that may not be met by restaurants in some communities. Even in those communities with well-established access to better cellars, a private club with a reputation for wines may attract a cadre of members who want the ability to influence and enjoy a quality wine list. Finally, the single biggest attraction towards dining in a private club is the attention to service that club membership provides. In a city like Washington where good service is impossible to find, that could be quite a draw. (Well, it would be if Washington clubs served better food, but I digress.)

How much d'ya wanna show off, Varmint? You could really wow your guests and make a whole evening out of it by hitting Laboratorio Galileo. Reserve well in advance for a group. They aren't open every night. Don't eat in Galileo, insist on only the Laboratorio. I echo SamanthaF's recommendation of Melrose for anybody visiting DC. I am also a fan of TenPenh, at 10th and Pennsylvania (d'oh!). Pan-asian food that doesn't give "fusion" a bad name. Even the edamame are better there. Good for a lunch or dinner. This isn't too terribly far from 13th and I, either.

Grapeseed (not an inn) still has Steve's desserts. It's in Bethesda, MD. It's a minor schlep from the Metro but not an unbearable one. Red Line to Bethesda, come up to street level, turn left on Old Georgetown Road, walk a few blocks and turn right on Cordell Ave. It's about two blocks up on your left. Where in DC are you staying? From 13th and I, you can walk up to 14th and K and check out Jeff Tunks' DC Coast restaurant for a lovely seafood lunch.

I'm not sure on the number of covers at the dinner. I'm terrible at guessing numbers of people. I think it was in the vicinity of 200 people, but I can't be sure. Auctioned items: 3 recreational classes at L'academie (this was the most popular and competitive bid) A set of All-Clad cookware, four pots/pans with lids A three-piece set of a new knife Wusthof just introduced A multi-item hot beverage kit, including a tea infuser and other random items Eight small "Julia's 90th" plaques...the top 8 bidders got one each One poster-sized "Julia's 90th" plaque A Julia Child statuette, done in a pop-art-y style (not an actual representation, but it sorta looked like her and was created by the artist in her honor) A set of Julia Child plates made by Lenox. They were cute, they had whisks around the edge and looked kind of art deco-like. I think that's it. I did not learn about NY events, alas. Is she even coming to NY when she comes to DC? I think her DC visit mostly has to do with her kitchen, which she donated to the Smithsonian Institution. (Rachel Perlow discussed it somewhere around here when she and Jason visited late last winter.) The centerpiece event while Julia is here is a big dinner at the Smithsonian museum, which will have huge numbers of chefs each serving a small dish of some type. L'academie will be there, but I will not since I didn't get chosen (all the students in my class wanted to assist, so we drew straws to see who would get to go).

The photo is online, actually: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/style...2-2002Aug5.html I'm second from left. Classmate Kristin is fifth from left, and Amy is on the far right.

Yes, Steve, that is me. I'll try to scan in the picture later. It's pretty amusing to me that I'm listed as "staff" as though I was an employee at Poste. Pasta dough as taught at L'academie is somewhat soft and not exactly sticky, but perhaps a little bit tacky when you've finished making it but not yet started working it. The technique we have learned has the damp dough rest for about 15 minutes to relax the gluten. Then we press it a little with flour and start running it through the machine on the largest setting, dusting with flour and folding in thirds and pressing it together in between. After 5 or 6 runs it gets much smoother and less sticky, and the color changes. Then we run it through in progressively smaller settings until it's at the smallest setting. Let the sheets rest for 15 minutes until they have a slightly papery feel and then run them through the cutters or use for lasagna/ravioli/whatnot. This results in a tender, smooth, uniform noodle with just enough bite to it. Kate, I feel great about how things are going at school. I'm quite focused on school as a day-to-day project, though, and don't spend much time reflecting on my emotions about the experience. My emotions vary from panic to self-amazement to excitement to insecurity to fist-pumping self-promotion, sometimes in a very short time period. You can always ask me direct questions about my emotions around specific events, and I will do my best to respond. The flank steak had a nice flavor, but was toughened a little by the marinade. It certainly wasn't bad but it wasn't as soft as medium-rare meat normally is. Edit disclosure: forgot to add flank steak update.

As legally required, L'academie has a published separation/tuition refund policy outlined in its handbook. The student who left was refunded 70 to 80 percent of his tuition by these guidelines (I'm not sure what constitutes 20% of the program in terms of number of school days). I read the whole student handbook after I was accepted and before I sent in my deposit. Jinmyo, I'll report back about the flank steak. There's so much of it going to the golf course, I'm sure I'll be able to scam a bite. It's only about 10% sesame oil. Mamster, I'm relieved that I'm not the only one who dislikes pork tenderloin. It's just...not...good.

I don't know if this student turned in his notebook on time, nor do I know his scores on the practical or the written exams or his classroom participation grade. I do know he periodically reported without parts of his uniform (especially his neckerchief), he didn't communicate with his team members when preparing for lunch service, and he repeatedly made mistakes (beyond the occasional deglazing with gastric, that is). I don't think he was a borderline case, from what evidence I have. I know that some students struggle with organizing their notebooks, or don't perform well on written tests, or are somewhat behind the curve in the kitchen. A student on probation is a student who falls behind on more than one or two of the skill sets needed to maintain a satisfactory grade. Apparently, the student in question was in this category. I will say that he didn't look too engaged in what was going on or act like he cared much about the impact of that attitude on his teammates. I don't think the school gave him a kiss-off or anything. We took those math and writing tests in the first week mostly so the school could identify students who might need extra help with those things, and Chef Peter told us that if we needed extra time for our practical and written tests and could explain our reasoning, he'd give it to us. If the student who left had asked for extra help, I believe he would have been accommodated. I have not heard any anxiety from any of the remaining 16 as a result of the departure of the 17th student. To the contrary, I heard mostly relief...especially from those who had been teamed with him multiple times. As long as you generally adhere to school policies, complete the assignments, and act like you care, you'll probably do better than a 75 average on your grade. Everybody else seems to be fine.

I just flipped through my student handbook, and I found plenty of information about student probation and also some information about Federal loans. But I didn't see anything about what happens to the loans for a student on probation. I imagine there's something in the documentation I signed for my loans on the subject, though.

Thursday, August 1 We are down to 16 students. One of my classmates averaged below 75 on his grades, and those with an average below 75 are put on academic probation. Students on academic probation are not eligible for federal loans apparently (you must be “in good standing”), and so he had little choice about withdrawing. The student who left was only on my team once, but I heard my classmates talk about him enough to be glad about it. Chef Somchet let the news slip first, and then Chef Peter said something later in the morning. Finally, Chef Francois was very direct about it when he taught our afternoon class, and he gave us a fair amount of detail about the situation. This means that we will probably default to four teams of four students at lunchtime, except for those days when somebody is out for one reason or another…in which case chances are we will be in five teams of three. I’ve found there’s a big difference in workload between teams of three and teams of four, so this makes me fairly happy. It also means we are the smallest class in the history of L’academie. Lunch service today involved a tomato soup, pork tenderloin with a roquefort sauce, braised red cabbage and chocolate mousse in a tulip cup. I haven’t handled pork at all in my entire life, so I decided to give it a go. I trussed the meat with kitchen string and put it in the walk-in until service, and then I assembled the ingredients for the sauce. The pork is seared in a saute pan over high heat and then finished in the oven, and then the saute pan is used for making the sauce so the sauce picks up the pork flavor from the caramelized bits on the bottom. Chris F. was on my team for the first time, and he was handling the tomato soup. He made a gastric to “correct” the soup. This is a combination of red wine vinegar and sugar, cooked down and added to the soup to enhance the sweet-tart tomato flavor. There were deli cups all over the table with red wine, red wine vinegar, and the gastric ready for us to use for our various recipes. When I went to the stove, I selected the darkest red liquid and smelled it. I smelled wine. So I took it along with the roquefort, some shallots, demi-glace, and of course the pork when it was time to put everything together. Once my pork was in the oven I added the shallots to the pan and then deglazed. My sauce was coming along nicely and I was trying to cook the liquid down a sec when suddenly the wine stopped bubbling and turned black. I was confused and a little annoyed, but there was little I could do except return to the table and brunoise more shallots. Just as I got to the table, Chris F. was asking loudly, “Where’s my gastric? It was right here!” Obviously, I deglazed with gastric instead of red wine. Wups. The rest of lunch service went off without issues. The pork was apparently cooked properly, but I think I just don’t like pork tenderloin. It’s vaguely disagreeable in its mild flavor. I didn’t like how my hands felt sticky-meaty after working with it, and I wasn’t that fond of tying it up with string either. Still, it was a good learning experience, and I’m glad I didn’t shy away from trying it out. After class let out, I went with three of my classmates to volunteer at a Julia Child 90th Birthday celebration dinner. Chef Francois had asked for volunteers yesterday afternoon, and I’d been one of the first to raise my hand, so I was chosen. We were to oversee the silent auction which was run in conjunction with the dinner, which wasn’t exactly a sexy job but was at least a chance to get out there and see some of Washington’s foodies and perhaps meet a chef or two. We came in our uniforms, and we were fortunate enough after the auction activity had died down to be invited to help with plating behind the line. The menu for the dinner, which was open to anybody wishing to pay $150 a plate, included a crab flan starter, rockfish and mussel “chowder,” and rack of lamb with feta potatoes. Dessert came after a cheese course in the form of a strawberry shortcake. I helped to plate all of these items, and tried to stay out of the way the rest of the time. Ris Lacoste of 1789, Robert Wiedmaier of Marcel’s, Jon Mathieson, and Gale Gand of Tru were all around supervising production of the dishes they’d contributed to the event, so we had the chance to chat with them. I especially liked Gale, who had a sunny smile and who dished with us happily about bad haircuts and my gastric mishap. I’d met Ris before (I trailed at 1789 a few months ago); she talked with us a lot about ways to get access to Julia herself when she comes to DC for celebrations later this month. Robert was friendly and jocular; he commanded us to get beers once the main plates went out, and he clapped people on the back a lot. We were able to sample most of the goodies in between courses. I enjoyed the potatoes and the rockfish especially. It was exciting to be behind the line, and everybody made us feel welcome. It was clearly a happy evening for all involved. Friday, August 2 I have a pasta machine at home, but I have not pulled out what I’d regard as a really good batch from it since I purchased it a few months ago. Certainly I’ve made adequate batches of pasta, but I didn’t have the hang of the proper technique, and I eventually decided I’d just wait until I had a chance to learn the method at school before giving it another shot. Today, my lucky day arrived. I was sent to the pastry kitchen to make the pasta to go with sauteed shrimp and a Provencal tomato sauce. I also made today’s dessert while I was in there: floating islands, poached French meringue atop crème anglaise, drizzled with caramel which immediately hardens and crisps appealingly. Chef Somchet, who has returned from her class (turns out she was taking vegetable and fruit carving), suggested we make the dessert components before getting going on the pasta. So I assembled the crème anglaise, and then I made the meringue and figured out how to shape quenelles for poaching. Unfortunately, this didn’t leave me quite enough time for all the resting and drying required for the pasta if I wanted to avoid gunking up the pasta machine with wet dough. I ended up relying on one classmate to make some extra dough when I didn’t have enough, and another to help me with cutting so we could get it done in time for service. I had hoped to have enough time left to assemble the pasta sauce, but it clearly wasn’t going to be possible. I realized later that I’d basically run my ass off in the pastry kitchen, but I had been so involved in the moment that I’d lost track of time and not noticed how hard I’d made things on myself. I need to get better at both keeping an eye on the clock and assessing how long and in what sequence tasks should be accomplished. One of my classmates had her husband and a coworker/friend of his over for lunch today. I hadn’t realized we could bring people in our personal life into the school like that, but I suppose for our hefty tuition payments we should be able to have a guest or two come by. After lunch and break, we spent the afternoon starting prep for Monday’s golf tournament. L’academie raises scholarship funds through its annual Duck Press golf tournament, at which the students prepare and serve food. I trimmed about 8 flank steaks of their excess fat and silvery skin. We report at 8am on Sunday to finish up with all the prep. Sunday, August 4 Today was dedicated exclusively to prep for the golf tournament, so there was no demo, we didn’t learn any new recipes, and we didn’t cook a lunch service. Chef Peter had detailed prep lists and set about assigning tasks once 8am rolled around. I started off with Brett, who worked with me to make a marinade for the flank steaks we trimmed Friday. The marinade included grated ginger, sliced shallots, chopped garlic, soy sauce, marsala wine, balsamic vinegar, sesame oil, and worcestershire sauce. We made about 8 quarts of the stuff and then got the steaks soaked down and back in the walk-in. I then helped other students with whatever random jobs I could find (wrapping and labeling deli cups of sauces, and so on) until Chef Peter started looking for folks to make us some breakfast. I worked with Kristin on peeling and cutting some potatoes, and then she made home fries while I set myself up to make scrambled eggs. George suggested I crack the eggs into a china cap (large-hole chinois) set in a bucket so I wouldn’t have to worry about eggshells in the finished product. I’ve never used a china cap before, and it did work well but it took some time to work the egg through the holes. I’m fortunate I didn’t have to clean the tool when I finished with it, because it looked like it was pretty hard to clean properly. I added milk, cream, and some ham to the eggs and scrambled them in a couple saute pans. Kristin came over and added some cheese right before service. We turned the potatoes and eggs into some hotel pans, and everybody lined up and chowed down at 10:30am. I’ve never made scrambled eggs for more than a dozen people before, but it’s exactly the same as for one or two. I didn’t do them the French way (over a bain-marie) or the way I usually do them (over extremely low heat, which takes a good 40 minutes) but instead over moderate heat so they’re done in about 10 minutes. I heard no complaints. After breakfast we cleaned up and then I spent the late morning and early afternoon organizing the walk-in for packing out tomorrow and seasoning and packing up the millions of grilled vegetable slices other students were cooking. We finished at 12:30 and all went home. It was a surprisingly quiet day in the kitchen. I think everybody was tired and a little sullen about having to come in on a Sunday. Nobody had skipped out, but nobody seemed happy about their presence either…not even Chef Peter.