A HECTIC TWO DAYS

As I said in my last post , this has been a busy week.  It's Saturday, but I need to back up to Thursday evening.  Chef Adeline had the early morning shift at the Ritz, so Chef David was our instructor.  He too is an incredibly accomplished chef.  As opposed to Adeline's serious nature, however, he tap danced and sang a little during our session.  There were a couple of things that Adeline told us to do and not to do, where David said just the opposite.  This only reinforces my original thinking that when it comes to cooking, there's usually more than one way. 

For our first dish we prepared Free-range Veal Sweetbreads with Artichokes and Asparagus.  In case you haven't eaten sweetbreads, it is the thymus gland of a calf (located in the neck).  Chef David wanted us to use two different preparations for this dish and compare them.  We braised two sweetbreads, and pan sauteed third.  I'll get right to the point here.  The French love this dish, and I don't.  I would never order them in a restaurant and hope that no one ever prepares the dish for a dinner party where I am the guest.   When the braising was finished, David handed each of us a spoon containing a HUGE bite.  We are expected to at least taste everything.  I took the smallest bite imaginable, and when he wasn't looking, tossed the rest in the trash.  The valuable thing about learning any of these preparations is the technique.  Braising is a technique that I have used often, particularly with Osso Bucco.  There are only subtle differences among chefs on the braising subject, but every point of view is helpful.

Next came Bresse Chicken Breast, Champagne Risotto with Asparagus Tips, and Mushroom Fricasse.  I told you in an earlier post that Bresse chickens are from southwest France.  That was incorrect.  They are raised in the Rhone-Alpes region.  These chickens have a particularly delicious flavor.  As I looked down at my mise en place tray, once again, I was startled.  This guy still had his head with feathers, the beak, the whole nine yards.  Although a tough instructor, I couldn't help but feel that the gentleman side of David was showing.  He finished butchering, de-boning and fabricating that little guy.  Fine by me.  After placing two pieces of blanched asparagus on each breast, we rolIed and tied them, browned them in some olive oil, and put them in the oven.  I prepared the risotto, a dish that I can prepare in my sleep.  Of course, I learned early in the week that there's always something that they don't like about they way you cook.  That's okay.  This program no place to have a thin skin, besides, that's what I came for.  They are the experts.  But although I had the benefit of the chef's constant input, the risotto that I make at home is better than this one was.  I'm sure it's just a matter of opinion.  But my opinion is, in this case, my way's better.

The Lobster Lasagna with Spring Spinach, was not what you and I think of as "lasagna".  (Check out the picture.)  After making lasagna noodles from scratch, we blanched them and folded them over several times putting a different ingredient inside of each fold: spinach, mushrooms, tomato confit, julienned celery and carrots.  Yet again, it was time to kill the poor lobster.  David taught us a different technique than Adeline. (This is the technique that I learned in culinary school.)  Okay, this part should come with a warning.  Ready?  You take the lobster and jam your knife right through it's head.  Then, you rip off the claws and tail.  I don't know if that's better, but at least it's instant death for the lobster.  It seems less cruel.  None of it is pleasant. . . in any way.  We made a sauce with the shells (which I can now do in my sleep), boiled the lobsters, and baked the little lasagnas.  Delicious all the way around. 

This night I had a plan. I pretended to be ravenous and took a lot of food with me. On my trek home down rue Cambon, I found the same elderly homeless man from the night before. I put all the containers down beside him. He looked up and smiled.


Chef David was great, taught me a lot, but he talks a lot.  We got out of class at 12:15 a.m.  I got home at 12:45, and for any of you who have ever worked in a restaurant, you know that it doesn't end there.  It takes a good hour or two to "come down" from the adrenaline rush that comes with restaurant work.  I had class at Alliance Francaise on Friday morning.  It wasn't pretty.

Nevertheless, Friday turned out to be a great day.  My French class petit fete had blossomed into quite a party.  Mary, a California native who was new to our class this week, was kind enough to host the party at her spacious apartment around the corner from school.  Everyone brought something, and the ballontine that I made at Escoffier was a hit.  For three hours we ate, drank wine, talked and laughed.  For some of us it really was "goodbye".  Sweet Gemma goes back to Italy with her mom and her Newfoundland on Monday, and I'm in the Ritz kitchen.

Our class contained a wide range of races, nationalities, and ages.  Whatever the reason, we had real chemistry.  Next Friday I'm meeting whoever is available at the end of class to have lunch.  Unfortunately two of my very favorite people in the class will be gone, Ryota and Abs.  Ryota is a young Japanese man.  We hit it off the very first day.  With the same sense of humor, there was a lot to laught about when it came to our French pronunciation.  Abs is an Iranian graduate student living in London.  I should buy his mother a present.  What a gentleman!  I can't talk about our class without mentioning our instructor, Elodie.  She is a gentle soul with a sharp sense of humor, not to mention an amazing teacher.  We all love her.  Fortunately, I'm having dinner with Cora, Chloe and Rana tonight.  The plan is to meet at the Baccarat Museum.  Apprently, their restaurant has a good reputation.  Cora is in charge of that stuff.  I'm good with it.

Friday was my last night of the Masters Program.  I would sacrifice my final lobster for Lobster Fricassee with Vegetables and Champagne sauce.  Adeline suggested that we all sit down after cooking, crack open a bottle of champagne, and actually enjoy the food; and that we did!  We started with foie gras that we had prepared on Wednesday, followed by Crayfish Gratin, and finally, Lobster Fricassee with Vegetables and Champagne Sauce.  The lobster dish looked so delicious that I forgot to photograph it.  It did not disappoint.

With all that champagne flowing, we totally forgot a Salt Encrusted Bresse Chicken had been taken out of the oven earlier in the evening.  No one could even think about eating more or even taking it home, so I said that I knew someone that would appreciate it.  After carving and wrapping it, saying my goodbyes (although I know that I'll see everyone in the Ritz kitchen next week), I headed down the street to find the man that I had been feeding.  As I exited the Ritz I saw barricades and lot's of people lined up for some sort of gallery showing.  All the folks that usually sleep there were displaced.  I wasn't giving up.  In the adjacent alley folks were sleeping every twenty feet or so.  I searched and searched, but I couldn't find him.  Suddenly I noticed a man, a non-threatening man, looking at me.  I told him to take the chicken.  I was humbled, because I could tell that he was grateful.  As I left, a cute little dog popped up beside him and looked right at that container. He obviously smelled his dinner.

Last night I slept for ten hours, and now I'm pondering a nap.  This week I was in kind of a "flat spin".  It was all worth it, but I'm beat!