Consomme and Muligatawny

This week has been a nutty one. Our kitchen was completely off limits and drywall dust had invaded everything. The dog's allergies have reached a critical stage. And we're cranky. Really cranky. Nothing is where it is supposed to be and when we find it, it's covered in dust. We've eaten out every meal for the entire week except for the night my mother took pity on us. We are pitiful.
There is a bright note in all of this. The pity party was interrupted by an exam in Soups and Sauce class. I didn't even have time to worry about it. I have pretty much failed all of the little quizzes to date so I figured this wouldn't be that bad. I'm better in the kitchen than in the quiz department. Consomme is a tricky and finickly little ditty to make. By taking a good stock, ground lean meat, mire poix, and a sachet of spices one can create a clear, lovely broth. It needs to be velvety smooth and clear as a bell. A crazy floating raft forms and makes all the magic happen. A little babying and you've got it made. Mine was yummy. I got a good grade. I needed it to balance out the shitty quiz grades.
After the practical exam I made a mighty fine Muligatawny soup. Curry and chicken and yum. Our group made a shrimp bisque worthy of a wimper. It was so delicious it made one sigh... The rest of the class took some pretty bad recipes and made them wonderful. It was a feast that day.
My kitchen limps along. I did, however, hang some mighty terrific wallpaper. If this cooking thing doesn't work out, I think I've got it made in the papering business. I'm trying to post some pictures but I can't seem to make it happen today. My computer is translating the photos into numbers and letters. Weird.

Oddity #1

Bob fell through the kitchen ceiling yesterday. Clean through. He thought he was being rather clever by replacing insulation that was missing after the electricians came on Friday. Why he didn't do this from the kitchen side as opposed to the attic side is beyond me. I'm sure he is rethinking this decision as well. I actually think he is kind of pround of himself. He almost fell on Owen who was standing there actually helping him. Yes, he was helping. I'm sure not by choice but still... He is fine this morning. A little bruised--his pride as well as his ribs.

Pastries Day One

Well, it was interesting--to put it mildly. When I walked in to my new pastry class I expected a class full of young skinny bakers. This was the only upper level first year baking class offered so I figured it would be populated by those in some of my other day classes. I was quite full of confidence that I would know many and again be the senior student. Wrong. Really wrong. With each new student that walked in, my mouth dropped a little more. I was smack dab in the middle age-wise. In fact, I was kinda on the young side. Where did these people come from??? My friend from my previous baking class was sitting next to me, which was comforting but that was as far as it went.

My teacher is brilliant. This is not just my opinion, mind you. She really is. She has her doctorate in chemistry and is a baker extrodinaire. She is smarter than I think I am on my best day. She did not think the class m

ake-up was odd. This must be typical in these night classes. The class runs from 4-11pm, you see. This is the time to take that baking class you've always wanted--maybe even with your husband. That nice couple was across from me in the bakery. There were several men th

at were over 55. They were darn good bakers, too. There were several women who sang to themselves throughout the whole class. One woman was covered head to toe in cocoa. I never used cocoa so I can't really explain that. But I mean head to toe.

The day was about pies and tarts. I have a very difficult relationship with pie. It hates me and I'm not so fond of it. However, I made one awesome pie. It was a blue cheese-apricot tart. It had a sour cream crust. Holy shit it was yummy. My partner made some nasty pie crust which made us both very giggly. We were finished by 9:30. Class, however does not end until 11. Off to do the dishes, I guess. At 20 minutes until 11, one man finally finished his pie and put it in the oven. I almost slit his throat. Really? Oh, but he was not alone. In went another pie. We still hadn't had the chat

about everyone else's pies. Chef is quite amazing when analyzing these baked goods so I really wanted to listen. But my bed was call

ing--loudly. All I could think about was going home and there were pies still baking!!! AAHHGGG! Luckily Chef let those of us who had finished aeons ago leave but it was still 11:20. Some girls still had homework to do for the next day.

I think it will be fine in the long run. We have to do a presentation of something we've made at home. These pictures are my kitchen in its' current state. Drywall dust does not make a pretty decor for a cake or pie. It might make a good thickener for my soup and sauce class however...

Homework

I have to write a 250 word paper about a chef. Very convienently I'm reading a book about Jacques Pepin. This man is amazing. His mother during WWII had to send him away during the summers to work on farms so that he could eat well. He was six. At around 12 he was sent to a hotel to apprentice in a kitchen. He had never even worn long pants and couldn't see over the stove. At 16 he has working in the finest kitchens in Paris. His army stint was spent cooking for Charles De Gaulle and other presidents of France. This amazes me. I can't even get my kids to take out the trash without a fight and this man is working for a living at 14.

Once he moved to America he was offered the job of cooking in the White House--for JFK. He turned it down to work for Howard Johnsons. He was responsible for develping techniques to keep standards consistent from restaurant to restaurant, state to state. But still--HoJo's? Ok, that's how far I've gotten in the book.

Here is his recipe for Onion Soup. I picked it because I'm taking Soups.

You will need 4 soup bowls. 12 ounces each.

2 T butter

3 onions cut into thin slices

About 7 C good chicken stock

About 1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp pepper, freshly ground

16 slices of baguette, each cut 3/8 in. thick

About 3 c. grated swiss cheese, preferably Gruyere, comte, or Emmenthaler

Melt the butter in a saucepan, and saute the sliced onions in the butter over medium to high heat for about 8 minutes, or until lightly browned. Add the stock, salt, and pepper, and boil gently for 15 min. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Arrange the bread slices in a single layer on a tray, and bake them for 8-10 min, or until they are nicely browned. Divide the toast among the bowls, and sprinkle 1/4 c. of cheese into each bowl. When the stock and onions have cooked for 15 min, pour the soup into the bowls, filling each to the top. Sprinkle on the remainder of the cheese, dividing it among the bowls and taking care not to push it down into the liquid. Press the cheese around the rim or lip of the bowls, so it adheres there as it cooks and the crust does not all into the liquid. Arrange the soup bowls on a baking sheet, and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or untila a glorious brown, rich crust has developed on top. Serve hot right out tf the oven.

Last quarter I took several classes which required beaucoup homework. Cost Management was online which was a little tricky. Lots of work. Nutrition was also a bit of work but well worth it. Good God, we can all eat a little healthier. That class was fascinating in several ways. The student body was the perfect cross selection of Community College. Half of the class only showed up for tests. My favorite incident occured one morning early into the semester. We were working in groups. A young man who sat next to me announced that he was a grown-up now. Really? You could only be, like, 21. His girlfriend had just had a baby and he was now a new dad. On our way out of class we got to chatting. He wanted to show me his new tattoo that he had gotten in honor of his daughter's birth. Before I could protest, he was whipping up his sleeve and showing me this huge tattoo on his bicep. He said no one ever asks him why he choose blue and green for the artwork. Ok, I'll ask. He said the green was for the pot they had smoked that day. Holy crap. He told me the blue was for the blue babies (or something like that) that they had taken. I didn't even know what the hell he was talking about. So I asked. Silly me, it was blue exstasy! How could I not know that? Sheesh...

Day One, Quarter 3

This quarter began like any other, I suppose. White uniform (freshly pressed), checked pants, silly hat, and freshly bleached apron. I carried my giant baker's tool kit. I was late, though. Not like me--it makes my anxious. But today I had fifteen layers of dust in my kitchen, which was undergoing construction, kids on spring break and for some reason my giant dog decided to pee on the plastic between the new constuction on the existing kitchen. Really? Do you realize how much can come out of a 120 pound newfoundland? A lot. So it began...

This quarter begins with Soup and Sauce cookery. I am not a fan of soups. (Blasphemy!! so says my mother...) I like to chew my food. It gives my pleasure. I think I'd be quite skinny if I could just drink my lunch. I will have an open mind--I promise. As class begins, I'm thinking, so far, so good. Seems like a good group--which is critical because you work really closely with these people. I'm not the oldest one in the class for a change. There are several old farts like me. Old is anyone over 35 in these classes. Most of the students are fresh young things just out of high school. Yikes. Last quarter I had students calling me "mama".

Everyone seems quick with a smile and a helping hand. Each quarter I get more confindent in these big kitchens. For those of us who cook a lot it is still intimitating jumping to it with ovens you don't even know how to turn on. The day went well. I got the lovely task of digging through a vat of veggies to figure out what was still viable for stock. I would have thrown the whole lot out but waste not. The nasty moldy tomato had to go though...

The days are long. Five hour labs are nothing to sneeze at when your back hurts all the time and you are not 21. Those little young things can show up with a hangover, slug down a Mountain Dew, and work like dogs all day. I need a full nights sleep, a fiber laden breakfast, carry a snack, and when I get home I fall asleep in front of the 5 o'clock news. Pathetic. I'm only 40. This does not bode well.

I am learning. Each day I go to class. Some days more than others. Community college is the land of misfit toys. Everyone fits in. It makes me happy to work with ALL walks of life. All. Pastries starts Wednesday. I will fill you in as I go...