Whisked Off

An off day September 16, 2009

All around, not a great day.

The morning’s demonstration was a dizzying blur (see photo). While effortlessly preparing three separate dishes, Chef Eric expounded on the relative merits of white and brown stocks (for brown you roast the bones before adding liquid); showed us how to make a simple syrup and to poach fruit; and cut up a chicken into 10 pieces including those delicate ‘lollipop’ wings you sometimes see in stylish restaurants.

By 11:30 he had moved on to what can only be described as culinary origami: folding and snipping wax paper into a ‘cartouche’ to cover a pan and thus prevent its sauce from evaporating in the oven.  My notebook is a mess of arrows, French cooking terms and confusing diagrams.

The demo results were beautiful, but I didn’t taste the food. Between avoiding pork and shellfish, not mixing milk and meat, and my allergy to pears, I was pretty limited by the menu. Mussel soup, chicken casserole with bacon finished with butter, and poire belle-helene. Of the 5,000 recipes in Auguste Escoffier’s Le Guide Culinaire published in 1903, there are probably 40 dishes I would try.

The highlight of the day was lunch with new friends. With a 40 minute break, four of us nipped around the corner to Marylebone High Street, a great stretch lined with pubs, clothing shops and cafes, a fromagerie, fishmonger, and lots of good people watching. At Natural Kitchen I had a yummy leek and carrot soup with roasted tomato-studded focaccia.

Chef Loic and a friend

My happiness turned out to be short-lived. This afternoon it was my turn to be sous chef for my group. The job entails coming back from lunch early to get the workshop ingredients from the basement prep kitchen.

The good news is that I made it back with time to spare. The not-as-good-news is that between the basement and the 3rd floor I got stuck in the claustrophobic kitchen elevator surrounded by 10 raw chickens, an overturned bag of button mushrooms and a slab of bacon. Obviously, I made it out.

Unfortunately, in my panic to escape I lost my tea towel (we don’t use oven mitts) and a few hours into the practical I burned my baby finger removing a pan from the oven. This was after I cut my chicken wings incorrectly and had no chance at making the lollipops. And, with my cartouche looking more like a paper snowflake than anything useful, my rice had burned to a crisp in the 180°C oven. Boo hoo.

Looking forward to making eclairs tomorrow and the wine lesson at 4pm!