There are a lot of things I’ve done that I swore I never would, and while I find them all to be generally naughtily enjoyable, none is so satisfying, so deeply comforting as eating meat.
I was a vegetarian for seven years, and during that time, I ate tofu, wrote impassioned pieces on both the benefits [read more ...]
Sometimes, this is what it feels like when I cook in culinary school:
Okay, what am I making today? Poulet Roti Grand-mere. Roast chicken, grandmother style. Oh god. Not again. I’ve made this six times already. It. Is. So. Boring. And long. And involved. And all of that stupid garniture. Garni-churrrr. I want to go home. [read more ...]
The kitchen was busy, bustling with activity and sweating students, but I was in a tranquil state as I worked on my grenobloise. I was calmly segmenting a lemon across the island from Derek when I felt something soft hit my rear end with a WHUMP.
Before I could turn around, I heard a distinctly French [read more ...]
… If they knew we were putting creme fraiche in our risotto.
Last night at the French Culinary Institute, we made fresh pasta, risotto, rice pudding and potato gnocchi. These are all things I loved to eat before I started at FCI – all things I used to make for myself on a regular basis. [read more ...]
Perhaps it’s just me, but I don’t think that roasting whole chickens is as easy as everyone makes it out to be.
Food magazines and food writers pretend that it’s a snap – “Just flavor it, truss it, cook it, and voila! You’re done!” Now that I’ve been in school for a few months, I’ve roasted [read more ...]
As the train rattled and clacked toward home, I thought about bouillabaisse.
Bouillabaisse. Boo-ya-base. Booooo-yeh-baze. It sounded complicated. It sounded like an insult. Insult soup. It was the dish we made at school that night, and mine had turned out just all right.
When I told Didier that I was learning to make bouillabaisse in the [read more ...]
My classmates and I occasionally joke that the mangled sentences our Chef speaks in are good enough to be compiled and called “Chef-isms.” Oh, we’ve collected a few good ones over the weeks (I can really even say “months” now):
Make again!
I don’t very get it!
Now don’t start to freaking out!
That is call the mool-tee task!
The [read more ...]
I’ve made pâte a choux before. I followed a recipe in Gourmet magazine earlier this year for gougeres, and the result was a tray of puffy, airy, cheesy, golden, adjective-filled pastries. I was awfully pleased with myself for tackling such a difficult and traditional recipe, and to great avail.
So when I realized that making pâte [read more ...]
When I walk into the classroom on Tuesday, the first thing I notice is Daniel, cutting butter into his flour with a sense of urgency. I’m confused; we’re making genoise cake today, not tarts.
“WE ARE MAKING ZEE APPLE TART TODAY,” Chef yells to me and the other few students who’ve arrived early. ”You do NOT [read more ...]
A version of the following will appear in this week’s Syracuse City Eagle.
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It’s Thursday night, and we’re supposed to be cooking eggs. We’re supposed to be making omelettes, poached eggs, baked eggs and boiled eggs. We’re not. It’s 10:30 on Thursday night, and Chef has decided that he’d rather we make pastry dough for Saturday’s [read more ...]
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