The Culinary Tales Week 32: Flavorama + Drama

September 15, 2014

 

Week One was tough, but nothing compared to what met us during Week Two, when we tackled cuisine from Morocco, Spain & Portugal, Germany, Belgium & Switzerland, and Italy.

 

The new twist this term was that we cooked and presented food in one of four ways:

1. Individually
2. Buffet
3. Banquet-style
4. Restaurant Fire

 

We had to make our dishes individually during Morocco night, which was just fine because I love Moroccan food and was more than happy to take home any leftovers. I learned to make harira (lamb soup), b’stilla (meat wrapped with flaky pastry dough) and chicken tagine with couscous (although we didn’t have North African-style couscous, I had to make do with Israeli couscous, which is larger and squishier.)

 

I had bought a tagine during Garde Manger but used it only for decorative presentation; this time, I actually used it as a cooking vessel. An interesting way to cook, for sure, but it’s not drastically different from using a quality Dutch oven.

 

 

We had buffet down, as we just spent a whole term learning how to put one on. Spain/Portugal Night was to be presented buffet-style as we made alcochofas (fried artichokes) en salsa, gambas al ajillo (shrimp in garlic), albondigas (meatball) soup, boquerones rellenos de jamon (anchovies stuffed with ham), empanadillas (half-moon-shaped Spanish meat pies), calamares frito (fried calamari), calamares en su tinta (calamari in squid sauce), tortilla espagnola (Spanish frittata), and paella. Advertising Buddy and I teamed up to make the empanadillas, stuffed simply with chicken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Banquet-style gave us a glimpse into banquet catering, and whatever dish we were making, we had to make for 20+ guests. Not only did we have to make the food in volume, but we had to learn how to plate them majestically and “out the door” at a pre-determined time. (That also meant turning around and making sure we had cleaned 20+ dishes, soup dishes and chargers.)

 

It was a great exercise in learning how to pace yourself, and how far to cook something or hold something until service. You become good at assembly line work too, because at service time, everyone has to pull together and plate ALL the dishes at once.

 

Germany/Belgium/Switzerland Night was served banquet-style, and while the menu comprised of waterzooi (a Belgian stew), Blumenhohohlsuppe Polonaise (cream of cauliflower soup), Fondue Neuchateloise, Zwiebelkuchen (onion tart), Potato roesti with dried fruit compote, and sauerbraten with potato dumpling, cabbage and spaetzle. I was in charge of the spaetzle.

 

Restaurant fire was an exercise simulating a restaurant environment where orders come in and everyone, assigned specific work stations (hence, dishes) had to work in symphony get the food out on time and perfectly made.

 

The restaurant-fire exercise was the toughest for me. We spent the first part of the night prepping, and then an hour or so doing the actual drill. If you ended up being the station cook for the dish you prepped, it was a lot easier. But when you were assigned to cook something that someone else prepped, it was a lot tougher because half the time you spent looking for items or trying to remember what exactly went in the dish.

 

Timing was a tricky thing to master, as professional cooks spend years getting this down. When an order came in, you had to work it out with other stations if there were other components or other dishes that accompanied whatever you were supposed to make.

 

Those who got the amuse bouche or soup had it easiest, because they usually got to go first and most of the time, simply had to plate; everything was already pre-cooked.

 

(By the way, an amuse bouche is a pre-appetizer course; usually one or two tasty little bites of something that is meant to give the guest a glimpse of the meal to come. Translated literally it means to amuse, or tickle, the mouth.)

 

The entrees were rougher. Usually what would happen was we would get a theoretical table of four. On any given exercise, they either all ordered the same dish, or, worst case, four different dishes.

 

Because there were more students than stations, if you weren’t cooking on the night of restaurant fire, you found yourself acting as executive chef, expeditor or dishwasher.

 

We ran the restaurant fire drill on Italy Night, making stracciatella, gnocchi with braised rabbit (I worked with Granola Girl and was responsible for the gnocchi), manicotti, squash tortelloni, osso bucco and panna cotta.

 

Chef Evil turned into an absolute monster this term, and we found ourselves nagged, yelled at and scolded on a daily basis. So much so that I found myself wanting to be a dishwasher on many nights just so I didn’t have to hear it. Even then, you still got yelled at.

 

We got yelled at mostly because it turned out the entire class was too slow. There was this thing called the “gold standard” which we had to complete before the firing exercises began. It was one finished plate – of whatever you were supposed to make – completed and plated according to how you want it presented. (Whether or not you were doing the dish you prepped during the fire, you had to plate/prep your dish to follow the gold standard.)

 

Everyone had to bring up their gold standard at the set time, during which the dish was critiqued and changes/suggestions were made to make it better. Not once did we get all our gold standards done on time, and we always had to ask for a few minutes more.

 

I had my usual issues, still struggled with timing (duh), though I managed to get most of my dishes done on time. You’d think I’d have timing done by that point, but, no. Everything was a challenge, and it didn’t help that Annoying Girl upped the drama ante.

 

First there was this whole ordeal when she thought that one of our slacker classmates – Stoner Guy – had stolen her car. He said he had forgotten his hat, and she gave him the keys to her car where she kept an extra. Of course, she looked out the window and didn’t see her car, and went on to stage the most histrionic, trailer trash-theatrical tantrum I had ever seen. Sadly for me, I was working across the table from her, and had to bear the brunt of it.

 

“I am going to kill [Stoner Guy].” (“Calm down [Annoying Girl].”)

 

“You don’t do that! You don’t just take someone’s car without asking.” (“He may have a good reason.”)

 

“He is soooooo kicked out of school.” (“Go tell Chef.”)

 

She ran back and forth from our station to Chef Evil complaining about her stolen car. We had to hear this for the better part of two hours. It turned out that she didn’t look far enough, and that her car was parked just where she left it. As for the disappearance of Stoner Guy? He ended up passing out in the back seat, too drunk, stoned or both to make it to class.

 

Then there was German banquet, when Annoying Girl, Stoner Guy, Lightning Fury and I worked on the entree dish. We were making sauerbraten with potato dumplings, cabbage and spaetzle. We got an epic yelling to from Chef Evil, during which AG pointed blame at everyone else for something that was her responsibility.

 

The intensity of the drills must have gotten to everyone, not just me, because the dish-dropping became more problematic than ever. Dishes were piling up like I’d never seen it, and groups of people started disappearing from the lab during cleanup time. (To go light up a tension-releasing joint, I suspected.)

 

Absences were more frequent too. (I still managed to show up every day.)

 

I smoked a lot (it’s how I dealt with the pressure), and I let my grooming slide. (Thank your lucky stars you didn’t have to see or feel my legs. Scary.) Despite all the wrinkles, I never once felt like giving up.

 

 

 

 

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