Culinary school: from grammar lessons to life lessons

Who knew that going to culinary school would include a lesson in grammar?

More important, who knew it would include lessons in sorcery, spirituality and life’s transformational moments?

Today ended the first week of my third term and the 13th week overall of my studies at the California Culinary Academy, and it seemed appropriate to reflect back a little.

The grammar lesson came early, in Chef Tony Marano’s class in October, the beginning-level Culinary Foundations I.

“Sauté is a noun,” Chef Tony informed us as he taught sauté as one of the seven techniques of classic French cooking. A chef and grammarian, I thought. Perhaps this is the place for me.

Three months later and working toward earning a certificate in culinary arts in June, I know it’s the right place, grammar lesson or not.

Similarities between my journalistic and culinary passions have already been revealed to me. The adrenaline rush, for example, and the deadlines. The creativity, accuracy and precision in preparation and presentation, for another. How many elements must come together all at once for the finished product, whether a newspaper or a gourmet meal.

Yet, there are differences, and they are revealing new life lessons to me and driving a new kind of passion. Foremost is the magic in the culinary arts; the magic is enigmatic yet natural. Call me a wide-eyed novice, but I’m not alone in the belief. Experienced chefs and gourmands acknowledge its presence in tasting a new dish or a familiar one that’s made so well it tastes new.

Take Chef Tony’s marchand du vin. He taught sauté using a New York cut – “This could be too good for you guys,” he said assessing it – which he cooked quickly on high heat. He rested the meat and put a little red wine in the pan, deglazed and reduced, added veal stock and finished it with butter. Spooning it onto the sliced meat, chef announced: “Marchand du vin – merchant wine sauce – the simplest sauce there is.”

It was superb, worth the price even without the steak. “It’s magic,” Chef Tony explained with a shrug. That was evident: a few liquids, some heat, butter – presto! – a savory, deeply flavorful sauce.

Before culinary school, I was a fair cook, with abilities beyond the basics. I could braise a short rib and turn the pan juices into a flavorful sauce, make tomato sauce and pasta from scratch, even assemble a decent molé with its complex layering of seemingly disparate flavors. But I didn’t know I was working with magic.

Now, culinary school has helped me get a small glimpse of it. Understanding how it works? Maybe never. But the pursuit is now my passion.

My mind, my hands, my palate and most of all my spirit have entered a transformation, moving toward an inexact and still mystical end. I’m eager to continue the journey.

Chef as artist; plate as canvas

Well cooked is the key concept. Well presented follows closely behind.

"Pay attention to the plate. The plate is your gift to the customer," Chef Dan Fluharty said in introducing the topic of plating and presentation on Tuesday in Culinary Foundations III.

"That plate is your universe; nothing else matters," Chef Tony Marano told us in Culinary Foundations I in October.

How the food looks on the plate could be a career in and of itself. In fact, people known as "food stylists" have done just that.

We were already pulled in to plating and presentation last term, out of necessity as we presented our cooking to Chef Dan for his assessment and grading. Chef paid minimal attention to how our food looked on the plate, other than pointing out if it was sloppy, the plate was not clean in the sense of sauce spills and if it was jammed with too much food.

Now, as we get closer to that moment when we will work in restaurants and be responsible for appearance along with good cooking, we are looking at the principles and elements of art, composition and how food plating has evolved over the last half-century.

The basic principles of composition include keeping it simple; the rule of odds, in which an odd number of items (potatoes, for example) is better than an even number; create a focal point or center of interest; purposefully seek an off-center presentation to create interest.

Chef Dan reviewed three generations of food plating:

* Old School: Three distinct servings of food on a plate, separated from one another. Think TV dinner.

* Retro: Starch and protein together, with veggie as decoration and sauce drizzled along the edge.

* Contemporary: Smaller portions overall (6 ounces of protein, for starters) with one aspect placed in relation to another, including on top. Sauces often used as pointer arrows to draw attention to the centerpiece, the protein.

Chef told us that for our purposes, a basic clean plate will suffice, with some height, emphasis on the protein and balance.

Good cooking and plating are works of art, and we are learning to be the artists for our families, friends and customers in restaurants.

Or, as Chef has suggested, be your own artist by going to Hometown Buffet.

12 weeks of discovery, and it's still a mystery

"We're having Brussels sprouts," doesn't exactly whet the appetite or pique the interest of many people. Yet the idea that Brussels sprouts can -- and more important should -- be part of a culinary repertoire is now in my reality. That includes that they can be cooked in a prescribed manner to achieve flavor and contribute to a well-rounded plate.

Getting to know the Brussels sprout serves as an apt embodiment of my culinary school experience. The strong smelling member of the cabbage family was to me as unapproachable as the complexities of classic French cooking were just three months ago.

In three months -- 12 weeks, to be exact -- my mind, my hands, my palate and most of all my spirit have entered a transformation in which they are moving toward an inexact and still mystical end. Chef Tony Marano of the California Culinary Academy makes the case for pursuit of the mystery being a lifelong joy.

Before, I was a fair cook, with good knowledge of the kitchen and more than basic ingredients. I could braise a short rib and capture the pan juices for a delicious sauce, create a baanced tomato sauce and pasta, even turn out a molé with complex layering of flavors.

Now, I can do those and so much more, with a peak at the mystery behind each. It's what some call chemistry. It seems more sorcery to me. As Chef Tony says: "We use the word magic to explain what we don't yet understand."

For example, I don't understand the magic of how something as minimally attractive and, frankly, odoriferous as the Brussels sprout can be transformed into a tasty, flavorful morsel. Yet, I know how to transform it.

Twelve weeks of culinary school -- and now a reflective break before plunging in again -- have helped me to get a small glimpse at the magic. Understanding? Maybe never. But the pursuit of it has my full attention.

The religion of cooking, the spirituality of creating

Cooking is religion.

To those who might call this blasphemy, I say that no other description fits. "Avocation" sounds like an add-on; "hobby" has a spare-time ring to it; "pastime" drops from contention by self-description.

Religion -- "an object of conscientious regard and pursuit" -- suitably describes how I practice cooking.

That fact established, then, "Professional Cooking," the sixth edition, by Wayne Gisslen, including about 1,200 recipes, is my bible.

In this bible, one can learn the ingredients and instructions for everything from Allemande Sauce to Zucchini Sauté Provençale. (Key to the technique of sauté: Don't overload the pan.)

The first six-week term at the Academy revealed that getting religion isn't a matter of learning just chapter and verse in those 1,200 recipes.

The chef/instructors consider the collection of recipes only an entry point for the techniques they allow us to carry out. This is the beginning of creativity, moving toward the spirituality of combining fresh, uncooked ingredients into something flavorful.

"The point of what we're doing is improvising," Chef Tony Marano told us in Culinary Foundations I as he taught the fundamentals of all seven Les Cuissons Francaise. "What we try to do is show you at a minimum the most basic steps. Then you go from there."

In our last class, Chef Tony set the charge for us: "It's been my desire to create a space for you to do great things. I hope I have done that."

You have, Chef. You have instilled the religious fundamentals in us, allowing a spirituality to emerge. And it will, over the course of the rest of our lives.

Culinary school quotes of the week, Week 6

Making note
"You have great notes, (student No. 1). Let me see your notes, (student No. 2). Oh, you were sleeping that day."
-- Chef John Meidinger (right) tells students to rely on their notes as part of reviewing for final exams.

Game over; face the music
"Stop playing with your food and just bring it up here."
-- Chef Tony Marano showing his eagerness to taste and judge the gazpacho and mayonnaise dishes that students were hovering over for too long during the skills test final exam.

Modesty is the best policy
"The changing room on the second floor is empty."
-- Executive Chef Michael Weller's hint to students he saw in various states of undress at their lockers in a public space in the third-floor hallway of the Academy.

Punctuality or power?
"The chef is never late."
-- Chef John Meidinger's response to a student who said, "You're late," when Chef walked into the 1 p.m. class at 1:02 p.m. to administer the final exam.

More than a dash of wisdom
"Here's a hint: I've never rejected a dish for having too much salt in it."
-- Chef Tony Marano (left) as he watched students stressing over salting their gazpacho and mayonnaise dishes for the skills test final exam.

90 questions till first term ends at culinary school

One more exam, the all-important ServSafe certification test, is on the docket at the California Culinary Academy for the culinary arts certificate group that began six weeks ago.

The test will be 90 questions all about food and restaurant safety and sanitation. Passage, with a minimum score of 75%, gives the student a five-year certification by the National Restaurant Association. It's considered an important entry point for those seeking work in the restaurant business as cooks and chefs.

Chef John Meidinger will administer the test, giving us one hour and 10 minutes. The results will be posted on the ServSafe Web site in about two weeks.

Today, Chef John gave us the final exam for hisSafety & Sanitation class, and Chef Tony Marano oversaw a skills test requiring us to make mayonnaise and gazpacho by hand. Both of mine turned out well, and  Chef Tony gave me high marks.

More important, I felt comfortable with how both dishes came together, and I completed the tasks in well under the one-hour time allotment.

Can't wait to complete the safety and sanitation certification. Then onto daily cooking in Les Cuissons Francaise in Culinary Foundations II class starting next Monday.

Basic culinary arts skills? We're ready to be tested

Chef Tony Marano's Culinary Foundation I class is ready for the practical exams on the fundamental skills. Wednesday will be knife skills, and Thursday mayonnaise and gazpacho, both to be made without the aid of blender or food processor.

Today was all practice, and everyone was energized and on the right track.

Photo shows the results of the 10 knife cuts I practiced today. Clockwise from upper left: tournée of potato; tomato concasse; minced parsley; minced garlic; chiffonade of spinach; cisseler of onion; brunois of carrot; julienne of carrot; batonnet of potato; small dice of potato. In the center is the curve-bladed paring knife that I use for tournée, at right the regular paring knife. Most of the cuts are done with a 9-inch chef's knife (not shown).

Culinary school quotes of the week, Week 5

Turning up the fire
"It needs some heat."
-- Culinary student Alfie Regadio, grabbing the container of cayenne pepper for the gazpacho we had just made in Culinary Foundations I class.

But not too much
 "Don't turn it into salsa."
-- Culinary Foundations I Chef Tony Marano admonishing us not to add too much cayenne to the gazpacho.

Panic! It's MSG!
"For years, we saw signs in restaurants, 'No MSG.' My God, it was like saying 'no heroin.' MSG is a naturally occurring substance. Some doctor in New Hampshire started the FDA on the way to banning it. Of course, now it's no longer banned but is listed as a possible allergen."
-- Chef John Meidinger (left) on what he called a misdirected ban on monosodium glutamate, a flavor enhancer in seaweed and other edibles used in many Asian restaurants.

Table for one, please
"The president of the United States ate half of my strawberry cake. That was Bill Clinton. It was during that time when the president was dining alone."
-- Food scientist Shirley Corriher (right), discussing her experience when she was invited to cook and bake at the White House.

Molotov cocktail, anyone?
 "You don't want to pour the brandy in when the pot is on the burner. The fumes are volatile, and they will cause a heat backup that will turn the bottle into a rocket."
-- Chef Tony Marano, showing us in impressive fashion how to flame the brandy for a shrimp bisque.

Gazpacho, the real way: It's all in the wrists

Most recipes for gazpacho, the fabulous Spanish cold soup, include the phrase "in a blender" or "in a food processor." But in Culinary Foundations I class today, Chef Tony Marano said he wanted our three-member team to fully use our knife skills. No blender, no food processor, no Robot Coupé. Just wrist power: knives and chopping, lots and lots of chopping.

Three of us put together the gazpacho, finely chopping onion, bell pepper, cucumber and garlic. Oh, and tomatoes. Fellow student Keejoo Hong Park concasséed the tomatoes, and I took them to a near purée with my chef's knife.

Keejoo diced and toasted bread for the bread crumbs, while fellow student Alfie Regadio assembled all the ingredients, and we jointly added a little water and tomato juice.

Finishing touches included salt, white pepper and cayenne. Alfie did the honors, and we all agreed that our gazpacho needed some heat. In went a dash of cayenne. Alfie stirred, and we all tasted. Needs more, we all agreed. Twice more we went through that ritual, getting it to the level of heat we wanted. We completed it with a little acid, from champagne vinegar, and some olive oil for smoothness and a sheen.

We presented it to Chef Tony, who suggested a touch more salt and a bit more acid via the vinegar. He also said it should be slightly thinner, suggesting that we used too much bread crumb. He also said the cayenne was at its maximum.

The challenge came on multiple levels -- no puréeing equipment, just our knives; combining the right amounts of key ingredients so they complemented rather than competed; keeping it cold; getting the seasonings, especially the cayenne, just right.

We felt successful, and it gave us a leg up: Making gazpacho, as individuals and not as a team, will be on the final exam next week.

Simple perfection: cream of mushroom soup

Nothing's better than a hot, flavorful bowl of soup on a cold San Francisco day. When it can be made simply, even better.

The cream of mushroom soup we made in Chef Tony Marano's Culinary Foundations I class on Tuesday fit the bill: hot and flavorful, done in 30 minutes -- perfect!

In efficient, assembly line fashion, the class whipped out the soup. I cleaned and sliced the mushrooms, and classmates handled the onion, saute in butter, addition of a brown veal stock (we didn't have any white stock, which Chef Tony said would have been preferable), immersion purée and the cream.

Another successful adventure, and another example of how good, classical cooking doesn't always have to be complicated.

Cooking and chemistry: What's the connection?

If you are a disciple of Shirley Corriher or Harold McGee, the cooking-chemistry connection is as plain as, well, as plain as how the heat of cooking makes proteins unwind and rebind.

We students of the California Culinary Academy had the great pleasure of hearing Corriher, "the grand dame" of food science, according to Academy Chef Tony Marano, and McGee elucidate prosaically in an hour-long session today at the Academy.

Corriher is a Vanderbilt University educated biochemist; McGee is a California Institute of Technology and Yale University graduate. Both have written much-relied upon books on the science of food.

They were most loquacious and most gracious in discussing their specialties in terms we all could understand. As Executive Chef Tim Grable said in thanking them for appearing, it was difficult to tell who liked it more, the faculty or the students.

A few gems from their conversation with us:

* "Salt suppresses bitterness," Corriher said, so when it is called for even in sweet recipes such as for pastries, it is meant to push down bitterness and thus exaggerate sweetness. So it shouldn't be used necessarily for its own flavor but rather for what it does for other flavors.

* Mold on fresh berries -- straw, blue, black and rasp -- can be minimized by dipping them in water at 120 to 140 degrees Fahrenheit for 20 seconds or so once brought home from the market, McGee said.

* If boiling vegetables, use salt in the water to help keep them nutritious by counteracting the osmosis that occurs in a search for salt balance between the interior of the vegetable and the water, McGee said.

* "McGee says fruit is nothing but a pretty wrapper for water," Corriher said. "I'm still trying to find where I said that," McGee laughingly retorted.

Exposure to such luminaries is a bonus for students at the Academy, and we look forward to other appearances by people atop the lists of experts when it comes to food science, culinary arts and other "foodie" issues.

(Photos show Corriher and McGee signing their books for students at the end of today's session.)

'Good soup ... good living."

Louis P. De Gouy said in "The Soup Book," his 1949 prosaic ballad to the humble bowl of nourishment:

"Good soup is one of the prime ingredients of good living. For soup can do more to lift the spirits and stimulate the appetite than any other one dish."

We began formal study and work in soups this week in Culinary Foundations I, and already, De Gouy's thought has proven true.

Chef Tony Marano on Monday started soup week by making the simplest and most humble of soups -- potato and leek -- in two versions, the regular and the creamy. Both were the fulfillment of what De Gouy said about "good living": nourishing and flavorful, warmth for the belly and the spirit.

It's no coincidence that Chef Tony started with potato leek or that Chapter One of Julia Child's most famous work -- "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" -- is "SOUP -- Potages et Soupes" and that her very first recipe is potage parmentier -- potato leek.

In today's class, we will explore soups thickened with cream, starting with another humble yet fulfilling concoction -- cream of mushroom. Yours truly has volunteered to prepare it. Visit later to read of my experience.

'The simplest sauce there is'

Anyone can make this sauce -- it's a delicious one -- to put on a sautéed steak. Chef Tony Marano did it swiftly, with a flavorful result, when he demonstrated sautér in Culinary Foundations I class last week.

When the steak is resting after coming out of the pan, wipe out the accumulated fat in the pan. Pour a small amount of red wine, 2-3 ounces for one steak, into the still hot pan. Reduce it to burn off the alcohol and to leave just the flavor in the pan. Add 6-8 ounces of veal stock and simmer. When it is reduced by about half, add a tablespoon of clarified butter, a technique called monter au beurre or mounting with butter. That thickens the sauce. It's now ready to serve, spooned over the steak.

"This is marchand du vin -- literally 'wine merchant sauce'," Chef Tony said, "a red wine reduction with veal stock. It's the simplest sauce there is."

(Photo credit: www.deliaonline.com)

Everyone, including the dog, ate my homework

Practice, practice, practice makes perfect, and while my culinary skills are far from that, they took a big step forward this weekend.

I practiced braising, making stock and creating sauces. All went reasonably well, making Sunday dinner a decided hit among family members. "Oh my God, it's delicious," was No. 1 fan Hilda's reaction. Zipper the Shih-Tzu rated the espagnole sauce, drizzled lightly onto his kibble, "two slurps."

Here's what transpired as I endeavored to take on techniques learned in the first four weeks of classes at the California Culinary Academy:

* On Saturday, I found veal bones at a local meat market, and that led to my making a brown stock. To my delight, it congealed nicely, just as I have seen in school, where we are under the careful supervision of the master chefs who are our teachers.

* On Sunday, I prepared to braise two meaty beef ribs, for which I had asked the butcher to leave the rib bone long. I dried the meat, tied it to the bone and browned it. Forgetting to season it before it was browned was a mistake, I admit, but the quality of the sauce pretty much made up for that.

* Two and a half hours of cooking time left the meat tender on the bone and the pan drippings rich with the meat flavor and that of the mirepoix (onions, carrots, celery). I strained it, skimmed off the fat and added some of the brown stock. Now came sauce-making time.

* Into the concoction, I added a few ounces of diced fennel and the rubies from one pomegranate. The combination was Chef Tony Marano's suggestion, saying the contrasting flavors would complement one another and add a sweetness to the finished sauce. He was dead-on correct, and the resultant sauce, after two more strainings and a reduction by half and then half again, was the hit of the meal.

* Green beans called for a béchamel sauce, as described by Julia Child in her "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." So I used clarified butter and flour to make a roux, stirred in the scalded milk, flavored it with onion, bay leaf and a whole clove. It came out very tasty, but the texture was a tad pasty. More milk might have helped.

The short ribs were falling-off-the-bone delicious, and I must pronounce my first major venture into multi-tasking a French meal a success.

Can coq au vin and sole meunière be far behind?

(In my rush to serve dinner, I neglected to take photos of the finished plates. This photo shows the gelatinized veal stock and the deep brown espagnole sauce.)

Culinary school quotes of the week, Week 4

Obey your thirst
"A beer can hat would be convenient: It keeps your hair back AND allows you to hydrate."
-- Culinary student Fontaine McFadden's fix for restaurant sanitation standards that stop cooks from keeping open drinking water containers at their stations.

Any leeway?
"Never."
-- Chef Tony Marano to a student asking when one would use meat tenderizer in a restaurant kitchen.

Rose by any other name
"My mom called it squab, but we knew it was pigeon."
-- Culinary student Alfie Regadio on gourmet cooking in his boyhood home.

Tasty? No, but square and flat
"What kind of cheese? American processed? Not even a rodent wants that cheese."
-- Chef John Meidinger discussing what in a school lunch menu has potential for causing food-borne illness.

Where chicken comes from
"This grew up in a box and never knew its mother."
-- Chef Tony Marano responding to a student who asked facetiously if the bird he was preparing for roasting was "free range".

Gather 'round for REAL cooking: braising, that is

Chef Tony Marano's Culinary Foundations I students took a deep dive today into the world of long, slow, low-temperature cooking that is braiser, or braising. For my money it is the best of the French techniques because of what it can do for an average -- or worse -- piece of meat and for the deep, complex flavors it coaxes from every ingredient.

As Chef John Meidinger said to us as we headed to the braising lesson: "This technique separates the chefs from the cooks."

It was the finale of a full week of cooking demonstrations by Chef Tony, with our willing participation, on the seven techniques of classic French cooking.

Paprika chicken (left) and chicken fricassée (right) were the dishes of the day, one a brûn, that is cooked brown and with a brown sauce, and one a blanc, that is cooked white and with a white sauce.

The paprika chicken was browned in oil, followed by the browning of onion and bell pepper, with a little brown stock and flour for thickening, before going into the oven for a one-hour braising at a simmer. It was finished with a sauce made from the stock, a dollop of sour cream and tomato.

The fricassée was seared in butter at low heat to avoid browning, with a chicken stock and flour for thickening, then into the oven for the braising at a simmer. It was finished with a white sauce thickened with a liaison -- egg yolks and cream -- and in the sauce a "point" of nutmeg, salt, pepper and tarragon.

The tastes were most distinct and most sensational, the highlight of a strong week of cooking.

We left the class abuzz with the possibilities, including plans being made for weekend meals. Mine will be braised short ribs in a brown sauce with fennel, over garlic mashed potatoes.

(Top photo: The Culinary Foundations I students gathered 'round the stove top as Chef Tny (second from left, in tall chef's hat) teaches)

Attention carnivores: Improving on perfect steak

Five of my seven uncles were butchers, and red meat has been a part of my diet since I grew teeth. Knowing how to cook a piece of meat, from the simplest hamburger to the priciest prime rib roast, is something I learned early and have mastered.

Or so I thought.

Who knew after cooking at least a couple thousand steaks in my life that my approach could be improved upon? Chef Tony Marano showed our class at the California Culinary Academy this week when he demonstrated two of the seven classic French cooking techniques -- sauter and griller.

The key starting point is a good, tender piece of meat. In this instance, Chef Tony used two cuts from the butt end of the New York strip, from the back of the beef near the ribs.

Another key: "Don't be stingy with the salt and pepper," Chef said. He used white pepper. Why? he asked us. Simple answer: "Because it's there." Black pepper will work just fine, too. Also, season immediately before cooking, not a moment sooner.

Then comes the cooking itself. For sauté, use a hot sauté pan and a drizzle of oil (Chef used canola). For grilling, season the grill with a little oil and put a drizzle on the steaks, oo.

In both cases, the thinner the piece of meat, the higher the heat and the shorter the cooking time. Thicker steak should be cooked at a slightly lower temperature, so the outside doesn't burn before the inside is cooked.

The browning or crusting of the surface adds a great deal of complex flavor through a chemical change called the Maillard reaction.

The ideal is medium rare (I like mine rare). One can learn to tell if the steak is done by touch, but watching the sides and the color creep up to the interior is an easier way. Cutting into it, though not ideal because it lets out the juices, is a good way to start learning when a steak is done; cut it open to see, then feel it to get accustomed to the feel at the right moment.

When Chef Tony's steaks were cooked, he put them on grill bars to let them "rest." Resting is less necessary for grilled meat. Rule of thumb is to rest meat for half the time it cooked. Resting allows the steak to re-absorb juices that came out in the cooking.

A bonus was when Chef whipped up what he called "the simplest sauce there is," marchand du vin, a red wine sauce made by putting a bit of wine in the hot pan, after wiping the grease from it. When the wine reduced, burning off the alcohol, he added four times the wine's volume in veal stock. He cooked it down by half. If a thicker sauce is desired, add a bit of butter.

Having cooked, as I said, a couple thousand steaks in my lifetime, I was amazed and pleased to have learned a few tips that will make the next steaks I sauté or grill even more flavorful.

(Photos: Chef Tony's grilled (upper right) and sautéed (lower left) steaks)

Was that a snap decision?

Dialogue in Culinary Foundations I class on Wednesday:
Chef Tony Marano, preparing to sauté steaks: "Is anyone a vegetarian?"
Student No. 1: "I am."
Student No. 2: "You are? Didn't you eat some roasted chicken in here yesterday?"
Student No. 1: "Yes."
Student No. 2: "So how is it you are a vegetarian?"
Student No. 1: "I became one yesterday."

The simmer of professionalism

Passion is easier to recognize by observation than by definition, so when someone sees me in my kitchen, they recognize my passion for cooking without my having to find the words for it.

Chef Tony Marano of the California Culinary Academy defined the passion for me today in his class, in word and deed. Both ways fed my own passion and reaffirmed for me why I am in culinary school, eagerly absorbing all I can.

The cooking method called simmering is defined in our textbook, "Professional Cooking" by Wayne Gisslen, as "bubbling gently."

Simmering describes my passion for culinary arts, and by the same definition, one must conclude that Chef Tony's passion for his profession is simmering.

Chef Tony demonstrates it daily in Culinary Foundations I, the class that by all rights sets the tone for student achievement, success and, yes, passion. Today, his demonstration was most vivid and at the same time humble and modest.

We students asked Chef Tony today to tell us his background. He walked us through descriptions of a series of jobs that started at dishwasher and led to the pinnacle of culinary achievement, in the best of restaurants and in his current calling to teach the profession -- and bring out the passion -- for successor generations.

"This is not just a craft. It's not just art. It's spiritual," Chef declaimed in response to a question of how he came to build professionalism and pride.

Twelve other students and I sat in rapt, silent attention, probably more attentive than we have been in Chef Tony's presence since the start of classes four weeks ago.

He spoke of the feeling one has at preparing a plate of food for someone who is willing to buy it, consume it and express gratitude for not only the taste and the flavor, but for the very act that brought it about.

"When you are preparing a plate for someone, that plate is your universe. Nothing else matters," Chef said. "It is sacred. When you come to that understanding, you can call yourself a professional. It is humbling."

That understanding and feeling, that humility at being able to create something pleasurable for someone -- and have the privilege of making a living at it -- is why I am in culinary school.

Now we're cooking! Roasting, to be precise

Seven are the techniques of Le Cuisine Francais, and today we began learning them intimately -- their names in both English and French, how and why they differ from one another and their special uses in the kitchen, and, most important, how to do them.

"It is important to know all seven cooking techniques," Chef Tony Marano said by way of introducing four days' worth of lessons and demonstrations. "It's what we do. It's what makes us chefs."

It's what will make us chefs, too, was my thought as we all eagerly made notes on the seven techniques:

Rôtir          Roasting
Griller        Grilling
Sauter        Sautéing
Frire          Deep frying
Pocher       Pocher
Braiser       Braising
Pôeler        No direct translation

Chef Tony demonstrated roasting, first with marque en cuisson -- prepare for cooking -- of a whole chicken. He trimmed the wings, removed the wishbone, seasoned and trussed the bird. The trussing technique he showed us is relatively simple and goes a great way toward ensuring evenness in cooking. He then seared it on the stovetop, then put it in a roasting pan -- meaning on a rack and open -- and put it in a preheated oven, for 45 minutes.

Roasting is used primarily for large meats that are somewhat tender, such as chicken, filet mignon and beef tenderloin.

Pôeler was next. Chef described it as a technique similar to roasting, but instead of being in a dry atmosphere, it is in a moist one, with a lid on the roasting pan and an aim to retain as much moisture as possible in the cooking. It is best used for duck and goose, he said.

Here's the best part of the day's lesson: When the chicken was roasted, Chef Tony carved, and we all ate. Moist and delicious!

What's on Wednesday's menu, Chef Tony?