January 2010
26 posts
2 tags
spring hill, west seattle
Its been ages since Ive had a good trout. Too long. I love the fish but rarely see it on menus and of course, when it is featured, the preparation is seldom to my liking…so I skip it. Lose lose. But wait, theres a win…theres finally at long last a win- Thursday night, Spring Hill brought me back to my beloved. Pan-fried rainbow trout served with cracked bulgur, celeries...
1 tag
the bleu brick road: fuck hollandaise.
Third times a charm right? Seems to be the case. Following numerousdisastrousattempts, I finally produced a satisfactory hollandaise. Finally. Having to go at it time and time again, however, was torture. My issue this round? Too thick. All was well until I tried to thin it out with a bit of cold water. This is where the shit hit the fan- the cold water brought the temperature of my egg yolk/...
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the bleu brick road: fricassee.
Pale, warm, mucus-like…lackluster in flavor- a white braise is not something I care for. Itdoesn’tlook good, it hardly tastes good and all in all it seems drab. This viscous mess of matte was demonstrated today in the form of Chicken Fricassee. Poultry was floured, seasoned and seared (carefully as to avoid browning/coloration). That same pan (minus the chicken) was then used to sweat...
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the bleu brick road: coq au vin.
Coq au vin = Cock cooked with wine. I’ve ordered this at restaurants, made it at home, eaten it at potlucks…it is always, always good. The bird may or may not be stained purple from the wine, the seasonings/types of mushrooms/roux consistency may vary…but really, no matter, without exception the meat is falling off the bone tender. So soft that it truly will dissolve on the roof...
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the bleu brick road: chicken beginnings.
Truss it tight, rub the bastard down with a bit of clarified butter, sprinkle with salt & pepper. Throw it in the oven…roast at 450 for 15 minutes, then drop the heat to 350 and let it be for another hour or so. Today, the most basic of the basic roast chicken was prepared, observed, eaten and critiqued. In my kitchen, roast chicken is something I undertake once a week. I like...
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the bleu brick road: toemaytoe, toemahtoe.
Wrapping up our study of the five mother sauces with the simple, the beautiful, the ever pleasing tomato. Theres no roux’s or reductions (in this one anyway), no eggs to overcook, no temperamental emulsions, no fancy bouquet garnis…no no no- its tomatoes, water/stock, seasoning, garlic. Variations are endless and multiple ingredients can be introduced or discounted, regardless, the...
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the bleu brick road: the hardship of hollandaise,...
Well hell…color me confused. “Add this”, “keep this cold”, “Warm! that one has to be warm”, “Oh that wont work”, “Slllloooowwwlly- go real slow” then “Quick now- its gonna separate!”, “Too hot! turn down the burner”, “keep whisking-dont stop” “nice scrambled eggs pal”…all the...
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the bleu brick road: bechamel.
Bechamel belongs on everything….I want it poured on vegetables, ladled onto meats, tossed with hot fresh pasta. Hell, I want a bowl full of it on its own and a spoon…actually, skip the spoon- Ill drink it right out of the dish. This creamy white sauce is astoundingly able to singlehandedly elevate whatever it blankets from just “good” to “good God!”. Encountered...
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the bleu brick road: espagnole.
Everyone loves a good tale…this one is fairly tame but its history nonetheless. The story behind this sauce is that it came to be under the influence of the Spanish. Word on the street is that Louis XIII’s wedding feast was fashioned by a bunch of Spanish cooks whom had their own ideas as to what would make a stellar sauce. I imagine them scoffing at traditional French cuisine and...
1 tag
new york city & cooking at the james beard house.
On Monday February 8th, I’m headed to NYC for what I feel is an opportunity of a lifetime. Chef Brian Cartenuto of Cantinetta will be cooking up a dinner at the James Beard House and I have been invited to accompany him and help out in the kitchen. Holy fuck eh? I am beside myself with excitement. Not only is Brian a phenomenal chef but he’s also a good friend. To be there as part of...
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the bleu brick road: sauces.
Seems that sauces have families- theres Mother Sauces and those birthed from them (Small Sauces)…its all very sweet and interesting once you can identify the relationships & separate the relatives (i.e the mass of variations, bases, additions, nuances). My head quickly becomes jammed with the details so bear with me while I try to unscramble what the fuck I learned, let alone attempt to...
1 tag
southern comforts.
I want to throw a bag in the car and hightail it South…and when I get there I want to eat. Oh, the romance of Southern food- it warms my heart and my stomach to boot. Pit barbecue, black eyed peas, cornbread, sweet tea, butter beans, cobblers, catfish, pecan pie…all of it renders me moon eyed, irrationally hungry. This cuisine is hands down myfavorite, so naturally, savage cravings...
1 tag
the bleu brick road: the dull & the delicious.
The first two weeks of school concluded with a fairly humdrum Friday. Class was almost entirely unexciting save for a stint of eating. Sweet carrots (oblique & glazed), tasty zucchini (tourne & tossed in butter) and savory potatoes (tourne, tossed with butter & finished with reduced veal stock) were dished up- these were vegetables cut by us and prepared by the Chef. The spuds were...
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the bleu brick road: sipping.
Three lil’ cups containing samples of stock sit before me for the sipping. They all appear almost identical color wise (a lovely golden brown hue) but they vary in source and flavor. Of this gaggle, two are commercially created while one was chef/student made. The first is a bit earthy (beef stock from a paste base), in the second I taste vegetables (beef stock from a boullion cube), the...
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the bleu brick road: stock.
Roasting veal bones. Thick nubs lightly oiled then placed on sheet trays, tossed into a hot oven. My stomach responded enthusiastically to the aroma emanating- rich, savory, delicious. This is what a culinary classroom should smell like. Watching the Chef go through the steps of preparing a basic brown stock, I carefully jotted down as much information as possible. The ingredients to a stock are...
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the bleu brick road: misery.
Ugh…converting recipes- are the details worth sharing? Barely. Math is a subject I dread- put an equation in front of me and my brain pulls into retreat. Pair that with a couple tests covering everything we learned up to this point (one of which I botched terribly- ouch) and what started out as a fairly average Tuesday became a day I wished I had stayed buried in bed.
The test- history...
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the bleu brick road: more cuts.
The commute was shit-tumultuous, soggy nonsense…both ways. Rain came down in pails making the streets a series of small menacing rivers and lakes- these water pits capriciously pitched my car back and forth, hydroplaning me left and right. Driving was, to say the least, intense. Its rain like today’s that makes me miss the Southwest something fierce…if only Seattlewasn’tso...
sunday morning reading.
Came across this piece in the New York Times while eating breakfast. Ah…Michael Pollan, Im a fan- I’ve read all his books, attended his talks (saw him speak at Benaroya Hall last year)- he’s just a fantastic writer with a wonderful way of dispensing valuable information. This is a great Q & A article- well worth a read (make sure to peruse the comments following- highly...
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the bleu brick road: tasting.
Work done this week (the chopping and dicing, smashing and peeling), today, was aptly rewarded. We relished the fruits of our labor in the form of savory sweet caramelized onions, light fluffy mashed potatoes and a lovely rich tomato sauce. Chef did the cooking and we did the watching- the emphasis in this lesson being more on taste than technique (very fitting, considering recent coverage of...
me, elsewhere.
A piece I wrote for KPLU awhile back just posted. http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/kplufood/arts.artsmain?action=viewArticle&id=1596350&pid=512&sid=13 (*It made its early uncut debut on Cheriepicked in November.)
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the bleu brick road: drawing blood.
The morning line up commences in military fashion. Chef stands before us, clipboard in hand, conducting an individual critique specific enough to get us all a little hot under the collar. First its the uniform- white cap on, chef jacket clean and ironed (same with the pants), the neck tie fastened correctly (he even reviews the knots), black socks, our (clunky, hideous) shoes polished to a shine....
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the bleu brick road: humbled.
To be humbled by a potato is a curious feeling…its astounding, maddening and overall pretty humorous. On our feet and excitedly out of our seats, we went to work demonstrating various cuts on spuds- baton, julienne, brunoise and small dice. Doing this sort of thing at home, mind you, exists as a distinctly stark contrast- pressure is nominal and judgement wholly inconsequential. In everyday...
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the bleu brick road: knives.
So many knives…so so many knives…and kitchen tools…and a tight stack of books. These were the day’s offerings. The brass tacks of food safety andsanitation took up the first hour of class followed by a kitchen/equipmenttour (“this is a bain-marie…that is a chinoise…”). We listened as the history of Le Cordon Bleu was presented, acknowledging some...
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following the bleu brick road: shoes &...
I got shoes. They’re hideous and clunky, black in color and kooshie as hell- perfectly comfortable for a day working on my feet (which I might add did not happen- no work/no cooking, today my ass was parked in a chair for the most part). Following shoe assignment/pick up/random social time we settled into a large, bright, cold (I must’ve been by a fan) classroom.
TheChef instructor...
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beginning the bleu brick road: le cordon bleu...
I couldn’t sleep Friday night…I couldnt sleep well anyway. Waking up at 7am I settled into my usual routine of a little reading, a little eating and a lot of coffee. Saturday morning was Le Cordon Bleu orientation so my breakfast felt heavy with anticipation and anxiety…not the best accompaniment to eggs mind you. Im sure the bucket of coffee didnt help but skipping it is/was out...
happy new year folks.
Its 2010. Jesus fucking christ…that happened fast didn’t it? Where the hell did 2009 go? Ah well, here we are. Heres to 2010 being everything 2009wasn’t- with more good times and less of the shitty ones. Cheers.