thanksgiving

I didn't have class last night because of Thanksgiving break.  But as I sit here working on my Thanksgiving menu I got to thinking about food and our emotional connection to it.  I laughed out loud thinking about the Friends episode where Monica cooks Thanksgiving dinner for everyone, but everyone keeps making special requests because they want the dish that they grew up eating.  They ended up with a gazillion different dishes for their small group of friends because Monica wanted everyone to have the comforts of home.  We are very tied to food on special holidays.  We like what we like.

I don't remember eating the exact same menu every Thanksgiving when I was growing up.  Our food traditions where stronger around the Christmas holiday.  We lived away from extended family, so it was usually just the four of us and sometimes we would order a Thanksgiving meal from a restaurant.  Other times my mom would cook, but I remember her trying new recipes from time to time...she didn't always follow a preset menu.  So I've had the emotional space to create my own Thanksgiving meal traditions.  And like my mom, I don't serve the exact same meal every year.  I love cooking the Thanksgiving meal and it is a great opportunity for me to try a new recipe or two.  I do stick with the traditional turkey and most of my sides are a version of traditional Thanksgiving dishes, but every year I sit down and sort through recipes and create a new menu.  However, I do have one tradition that I adhere to every year - nothing on my thanksgiving table comes from a can*.  Everything is fresh.  As I said, I didn't grow up eating the same thing every year, so I never fell in love with canned green bean casserole.  I do remember eating canned cranberry sauce as a child and liking it, but once I discovered fresh cranberries I kicked the can and have never looked back.  Because of my food preferences and beliefs about canned and processed foods, my no-canned food policy at Thanksgiving means as much to me as great-grandma's secret recipe means to others.

After I was married, Thanksgiving was the holiday that we usually spent with my husband's side of the family.  And they are a perfect example of how we are emotionally tied to our food traditions.  His parents divorced when he was in middle school, but both his mom and dad still serve the identical Thanksgiving meal every year...same dressing recipe, same sides, same everything.  I would imagine this is true for many divorced families as an effort to keep traditions alive for their children no matter which parent the kids are spending the holidays with.  I think it's sweet.

Hosting Thanksgiving for extended family or in-laws can be tricky.  As someone who loves to cook, I want to cook everything.  But it's important to channel your inner Monica and make sure there is a comfort of home for everyone.  Last year, we hosted my father-in law and my husband's siblings.  I immediately asked his sister to make the dressing.  As I mentioned, they have a traditional dressing recipe and I can't imagine their Thanksgiving would be complete without it.  His step-mother made the pumpkin pies.  I made everything else (except for the pea salad that made an unexpected, surprise appearance). People like to be included in holiday cooking.  It brings people together.

I love how food evokes emotions of comfort and home, especially around the holidays.  Making great-grandma's pie recipe helps keep the connection between generations alive.  A secret family recipe binds a family together in a special way.  Teaching your child how to make a traditional, family recipe is a rite of passage.  Preparing your families favorite dish keeps you close to them even if you are apart at Thanksgiving.  And except for photographs, I can't think of anything that elicits memories quite like food...the smells, the tastes, the colors...powerful.

If you have strong food traditions, cherish them and share them with your children.  If you don't stick to the same menu every year, well, that's a bit of a tradition too and something to be shared as well - I include my children in the menu planning.  Food is something to be thankful for - yes, for the obvious nourishment part, but also for the emotional part too.

Here is what I'm cooking this year.  I'd love to hear your menu or family traditions...please share them in the comments section.

• Roasted turkey breast - I order a free-range turkey breast on the bone and brine it the day before roasting it.
• Green beans with bacon-balsamic vinaigrette - this one has made an appearance many times.
• Roasted carrots with rosemary and pecans - new this year; taking bits and pieces from a couple of recipes.
• Fresh Cranberry-Orange Sauce - daughter's request; I don't follow a recipe for this one.
• Butternut squash and vanilla risotto - new this year because I love making risotto and my family inhales it.
• Mashed potatoes - daughter's request.  And I'm steaming my potatoes (see previous post from starch class).
• Gravy
• Gluten-free pumpkin muffins - new this year; for my son.
• My mom is making dressing and pumpkin chiffon pie.

I'll have lots of leftover turkey, so mashed sweet potatoes and homemade gluten-free macaroni and cheese will make an appearance during our leftover meals this weekend.

Happy Thanksgiving!

*I occasionally use organic, canned pumpkin when making a pumpkin pie.  But to be honest, I don't love pumpkin pie so I rarely make it.




     

soups & sauces

Yesterday I posted this on facebook:

The ease of last week's soup class is going to be quickly overshadowed by the stress of tonight's Mother Sauce class.

It's nice to be right and all that, but in this case, I wish I had been wrong.



"No Soup For You" - the soup nazi from Seinfeld

Last week's class was soup and it was a delightful class.  I don't mean to imply it was easy...it wasn't.  But compared to some of our other classes, soup class was a nice treat.  One would think that soup class in November is perfect timing for fall cooking.  Except we live in Texas and I sent my son to school in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt today because it's still hot outside.  But let's pretend it's all fall-like and let's talk soup.

Each team had to make 5 soups: New England Style Clam Chowder, Hearty Vegetable Beef Soup, Fresh Peach and Yogurt Soup, Split Pea Soup, and Vichyssoice (cold potato-leek soup).  I don't know if we simply had plenty of time to make the soups or if we were just really organized that night, but time was definitely on our side and that made the whole learning process very pleasant.

Typically, we present our food to Chef for evaluation as each dish is ready.  However, tonight Chef wanted the entire class to present all the soups at the same time.  I believe he did this for two reasons: 1) Everyone in the class gets so caught up working within our own tables that we don't communicate and coordinate with our other classmates very often.  I think Chef wanted to see us work more as a kitchen tonight and not just as tables.  2) Although each table was making the same soups, each soup turned out a bit differently.  Chef wanted us to see and taste the differences between the same recipes.

Most of the soups in tonight's class were new to me.  I've probably eaten clam chowder and split pea soup maybe one or two times.  And I have absolutely never eaten cold potato-leek soup...and at the beginning of class I was wondering why anyone ever would.  But to my surprise, it was quite tasty (great job, D!).

I made the peach and yogurt soup.  I know...that doesn't sound like a soup.  I brought some home for my husband to taste and he couldn't wrap his brain around it either - he called it a smoothie in a bowl.  I see his point, but I quite liked it (and so did Chef).  It's definitely not a fall soup (well, I guess it could be in Texas)...but imagine it as a dessert soup on a hot, summer Texas day.  It really was delightful and next summer I will make my family some smoothie in a bowl.

I also worked on the hearty vegetable beef soup.  The cuts on the vegetables and beef were really important on this soup...they all had to be very uniform.  I worked with another classmate on this soup and we did great on coordinating our cuts.  I was worried about the taste of this soup the entire time it was cooking.  It was just bland.  In the end, the taste had improved a bit, but I never loved it.

Table 3's soup line-up

Fresh Peach and Yogurt Soup (AKA: fruit smoothie in a bowl)

Split Pea Soup (the lighting is off on the photo...it was a beautiful color)

Vichyssoise with Sweet Potato Frizzles

New England Style Clam Chowder

Hearty Vegetable Beef Soup

At the end of the night it was so interesting to see how three versions of the same soup looked and tasted so differently.  Remember, we only use recipes as a guide, so there is a lot of room for variation.  But, it was an exciting night because every table turned in some amazing soups.  

"My Love Affair With Eggs Benedict Is Over" - Angelic Poe, Culinary Student

Mother Sauces are the 5 classic sauces that all the other fancy, culinary sauces are derived from: Béchamel, Espagnole (fancy word for Brown Sauce), Veloute, Hollandaise, and Tomato (NOT marinara sauce).  Most Mother Sauces aren't served as is...they are the base for other sauces.  But without a good Mother Sauce, you don't get a good sauce.

I knew this class would be challenging.  These sauces have very few ingredients, but they are tricky...very high-maintance.  But I also knew this class was my kind of class...tailor-made for the detailed, type-a kind of person.  Yup, that's me...except, not last night.  I was off my type-a game.  I was missing a detail here and there and these sauces are unforgiving in that way (and so is Chef).  So, it was one of those kind of nights.  I learned a lot, but it was painful.

We had a total of 9 sauces to make and Table 3 had three people last night (we missed you, S!).  I wish we could have had some of that extra time from soup class.  The great thing about Table 3 is that we work really well together (I'm sure the other tables work just as well together, but I'm particularly fond of my table) and that helps a lot during these stressful classes.

I started working on the Espagnole.  It's basically brown stock flavored with caramelized veggies and thickened with brown roux.  In fact, three of the five Mothers are thickened with roux.  Thank goodness I've had a gumbo/roux lesson from my M-I-L, plus D made some killer brown roux.  My slippery slope of not catching a few details began here and did not end until the end of class.  I kept surprising myself and NOT in a good way.  Luckily, this sauce is a bit more forgiving than some of the others and ended up turning out quite right.

Next, I tackled mayonnaise.  That's right, we made mayo and I have a bigger right bicep to prove it.  I'm sure there is valuable learning in having to whisk it by hand...or maybe not.  But the mayo turned out quite well.

And now for the real train wreck of the evening....I really wanted to make the hollandaise sauce because I USED TO BE madly in love with eggs benedict and I had never made hollandaise sauce before.  I knew this was the fussiest of the Mother Sauces, but I'm in school and I'm here to learn...so I wanted to give it a go.  I was really hoping to nail this sauce.  I wasn't scared of it...I thought I prayed to the Goddesses of Eggs, Butter and Emulsions...but this was a total fail and therefore, my love affair with eggs benny is over!

I started out on the right track...I whipped my egg yolks in the bain marie without cooking them, got them off the heat and cooled them down a bit with a touch of lemon juice.  Two big pitfalls avoided...yay!  Now it's time to add the melted, clarified butter.  Long story short...apparently, I misunderstood or misinterpreted how to properly add the butter...combine that with not the best whisk and bowl and now I have ugly, greenish, grayish hollandaise sauce.  Good Times!

But, it was only 9:40 and we had until 10:00 to turn in our sauces.  That was plenty of time to remake the sauce.  So, I did with the help of D and J.  It turned out much better the second time, but a bit on the thick side.  And that was that.  However, the rest of Table 3 did an amazing job on their sauces.  I really do have stellar teammates.

I don't sleep well after stressful classes and last night was no different.  I kept replaying the evening and where I went wrong and how could I have missed the few things that I did.  I know I didn't do my best  and that part drives me crazy.  I guess even type-a people are human and for whatever reason, I just had an off night.  I still learned a lot and that's really the most important thing.  

grades

As I've mentioned before, this isn't a recreational, just for fun cooking class...this is school (although it is quite fun).  And school means grades (unless you're doing some sort of Montessori thing).  Before I get into how we are graded in culinary school, let me give you a bit of history on my relationship with grades.

In high school, I got mostly A's with a few high B's here and there.  I really liked getting good grades.  It was important to me, plus good grades were expected of me.  However, these grades did not necessarily reflect how much I actually learned.  All I cared about was the grade and if I happened to learn something along the way then that was cool, but not required according to me.  So I took classes and selected teachers that would allow me to get the desired good grades with the least amount of effort (no AP or honors courses for me, thank you very much...but I will take any and all football coaches for my teachers).  Occasionally, I had a class that required a bit more effort on my part.  Thank goodness for cute boy tutors (I ended up marrying the boy who tutored me in geometry).  You see, I had way more going on in high school than just learning.  I was busy with drill team, boyfriends and best friends (that's full disclosure for my principal and parents).  But I still wanted those good grades.

In college, I took studying a bit more seriously simply because it was harder to get my desired and expected good grades without some effort on my part (and clearly I was behind the curve since I didn't take learning too seriously in high school).  I didn't really love my classes...I studied and applied effort out of obligation.  That was until I took Communication Law.  Something new and different happened in that class...I became truly interested in the subject matter...I loved the class...I wanted to learn all that I could...I studied and learned because I was genuinely interested in learning about that subject.  And the high A I received never felt so good.  I felt like I actually deserved it and it was a true reflection of what I had learned that semester.  Wow - what a cool experience.  I took that class in my last semester of college.  I wish I could have experienced that type of passion for learning sooner, but it did help set my intention that any other schooling I did in the future would come from a place of passion and not obligation.

This brings me to culinary school.  I'm here because I am thoroughly interested in learning all I can about food and cooking.  I look forward to all of it - studying, practicing, and going to class.  I also think that my age grants me a different perspective than I had when I was younger.  You see, my going to culinary school means I am taking time and financial resources away from my family.  That's a big deal and the magnitude of it isn't lost on me.  So my wanting to do well in culinary school comes from a motivation to learn about the subject, as well as a way to show respect and gratitude towards my family for their sacrifice and support.  Let me be clear...I want my final grade to be an A (and secretly, I'd like to graduate with honors as well).

Here is the breakdown of what we are graded on and how our final grade is determined:

• Weekly homework and product homework = 15%
• Weekly grade = 70%
• Final exam (written and lab) = 15%

Every week we have a reading assignment from our ginormous textbook, along with a worksheet.  The worksheets are pretty straight forward and if one has read the textbook, then getting an A is pretty easy to do.  We are also asked to turn in four products throughout the course of the semester.  As long as we turn in the products, we get a 100.  But all of this is only 15% of our grade.

Our weekly grade is the whopper.  This grade is determined by our participation in lecture, professionalism (appearance, attitude, etc.), how we work in our teams, and the products we make during class.  After each class, a numerical grade is entered into the online system for each student.  Sometimes they are ready the next day and sometimes they're not (I'm still waiting on my grade from veggie class that took place more than a week ago).  It's also important that I share the warning we received regarding our weekly grades: don't expect an A...be happy if you get a mid-B.  

I heard the warning...but it still hurt the first time I checked my grade online and saw that B...ouch!  I studied for class, participated a lot during lecture, my uniform was ironed and complete, I didn't say any bad words in class (that alone deserves some serious recognition), I worked well with my amazing team, and we tried our very best on our products....and that still equaled just a B.  And this whole scene keeps replaying itself every week.  So, I've had to adjust my perspective a bit.  I still very much care about my grade, but I don't want my slight obsession with my grade to discount from my experience.  I'm learning a ton.  I'm working hard.  I'm doing my best.  And I'm loving it.

I'll let you know at the end of the semester how this whole grade thing works out.  I also have a big final to get through.  Part of the exam is a written test and part of it is cooking.  I'm already a bit nervous about it...it feels like centuries ago since I took a final exam.  But I do remember that sweet, satisfying feeling I would get post-exam after I had studied hard and given it my best.  Maybe that feeling will be enough for me...

eggs

Eggs are awesome!  When my daughter was four years old she told her teacher that her mommy's favorite food was eggs.  I had never thought of eggs in that fashion, but in a way my daughter was right.  Eggs are extremely versatile and are a requirement in so many of my favorite foods.  And here's a fun fact: the tall fancy toque that fancy Chefs wear has 101 folds in it and each fold represents a way in which the egg can be prepared.  I haven't found the official, definitive list of 101 ways to cook an egg, but I did locate a website that shares 100 ways to cook an egg through photographs (recipes included).

This week's class was all about the incredible, edible egg and it was a super fun class.  We made omelets, eggs sunny-side up, and eggs over-easy...and get this, we made them over-easy without a spatula.  It was just me, an egg and a pan...and a whole lot of hope that the egg didn't land on my face.  And here's the key: confidence.  Somehow that egg knows if you're nervous and it will take full advantage of this weakness.  But if you are confident and just know that you're going to flip that egg perfectly, well, you probably will.  I was so proud of my new party trick, I made several eggs over-easy for my family this morning.  I was like, "look what cool thing mommy can do!"  My kids weren't nearly as impressed as I thought they should be (KP, however, was uber-impressed).

We also made shirred eggs, scotch eggs, sabayon sauce and two souffles in our table teams.  Shirred eggs are basically baked eggs.  Line a ramekin (or muffin tin) with a slice of ham, pour in a cracked egg or two, season with salt and pepper and bake.  You can top it off with a spot of cream and cheese for  added richness.  Our shirred eggs didn't turn out quite right.  The yolk was over-cooked and the white of the egg was severely under-cooked.  We came to the conclusion that less heat and a still oven would help correct the problem.

Scotch eggs are simply a heart attack on a plate.  Hard boil an egg, wrap it in sausage, bread it and deep-fry it.  Apparently, they are a popular dish in Great Britain.  Ours turned out great, but I don't find them at all appealing.

Sabayon sauce is a decadent, rich sauce that is the perfect accompaniment to fresh fruit (my team opted to eat it with our chocolate souffles...double-dose of richness).  It requires a lot of whisking, but it is well worth it.  My teammate made a delicious sabayon sauce.

And now for the souffles.  Souffles are tricky, temperamental little buggers.  There are several tips and tricks that one should follow, but following directions alone does not equal a successful souffle...luck is also required.  My other teammate prepared the cheddar grit souffle.   It was creamy, cheesy yumminess and it rose beautifully.

I prepared the chocolate souffle and my right arm muscle was sore the next day.  The first step was to prepare the base.  I heated egg yolks, fresh-squeezed orange juice, sugar and flour over low, simmering water (double-boiler style...also known as bain-marie).  This required constant whisking...hence, the sore arm.  Next, I added chopped chocolate and Grand Marnier (yum!).  I let this cool to room temperature.  Then, I said a silent prayer to the Goddess of Egg Whites and started whisking my egg whites to medium peaks (my arm was on fire...clearly, I need to get to the gym).  Now I'm on the clock as those egg whites are very impatient and begin to deteriorate  the second you get them where you want them.  Next, I folded the whipped egg whites into the chocolatey goodness and now I had light, fluffy chocolatey goodness.  Earlier I had prepared the ramekins by rubbing them with butter and a light sprinkle of sugar.  I filled the ramekins and then wiped the edges perfectly clean (apparently, speckles of food on the edge of the ramekin pisses off the souffle and it doesn't rise as nicely as one would like).  And finally, I said a silent prayer to the Goddess of Rising and put the souffles in the oven to bake....and I prayed some more.

Many people have heard the old wives' tale about not opening the oven while cooking souffles.  Chef assured us that it was perfectly ok to quickly take a look to see how they were doing.  But I was skeptical.  I looked around the 8 minute mark...quickly.  They had barely risen.  More praying.  I checked on them again at 11 minutes.  They were doing much better on the rising, but needed to cook just a bit more.  I pulled them from the oven 2 minutes later.

We presented the chocolate souffle to Chef right out of the oven as those little suckers fall fast.  We were also presenting our sabayon sauce at the same time. He tasted the souffle.  Someone asked a question about the sauce and Chef started tasting and talking about the sauce.  The sauce was absolutely delicious, but I was kind of dying over here...Chef tasted my souffle and said nothing and now he's talking about the sauce and all sorts of other things.  I was quite certain that his lack of immediate  feedback wasn't great news.  And then he redirected his attention to the chocolate souffle.  He looked at me and said I had made a near perfect souffle.  (Thank you Goddesses of Egg Whites and Rising!)  But seriously, I was ecstatic.  I wasn't expecting that.  I've received some nice comments from Chef in previous classes (as well as some honest, needs improvement comments too), but I have never made something near-perfect.  I did follow the directions and all of the tips and tricks, but I know there was a lot of luck involved with the success of my souffle.  I'm quite grateful for both that bit of luck and for Chef's assessment of my souffle.