Cooking -- and eating -- like Julia Child

Julia Child, the mother of American gourmancy, experienced what she called her culinary awakening with her very first meal in France more than 60 years ago -- sole meunière.

The almost-too-delicate-to-handle sole, filleted from the dover sole or other flat fish such as the flounder, is cooked in a butter sautè and served with butter sauce, or beurre blanc.

Sole meunière was on the menu today in Culinary Foundations III as the entrèe in a three-course offering for Chef Dan Fluharty. It was one of our last efforts before next week's final exams.

We cut the fillets from whole flounder, no mean feat. The trick is avoiding the nasties inside the fish, getting as much of the flesh as possible while avoiding bones and cutting the skin off without massacre of the delicate flesh. I nearly managed, getting one almost perfect fillet and a second that was -- well, suffice it to say that I served its two or three broken pieces hidden beneath almost perfect.

The cooking is lightning quick, two minutes or less on each side, and is the very last task in a rush of heat on the stovetop. The beurre blanc is a finicky sauce and must have one's full attention to avoid breaking the emulsion with too much or not enough heat. I managed mine well and turned out what Chef called a winning sauce, including mushrooms and capers.

The sole and sauce were plated with couscous, which I cooked right but slightly under-seasoned, and sautè of broccoli that was cooked and seasoned well. I garnished with tomato provençal, a crowned roma tomato with the seeds removed, stuffed with bread crumbs, herbs and parmesan cheese and baked for three minutes.

First course was clam chowder, which turned out as I like it, if a tad thick for Chef. Second course was a fennel and red pepper salad, marinated in a lemon zest vinaigrette. Chef said mine was seasoned as it should be.

Experiencing the delicate flavor of the sole meunière, accompanied by the mushroom and caper beurre blanc, made clear to me why Julia Child's inner gourmand was stirred when she partook of this most French and most gourmet of meals.

(Photo credits: Sole meunière, www.sunset.com; Julia Child, www.awardsdaily.com.)

Julia Child's influence hits home, yet again

Chef Dan Fluharty will tell you that he does things his own way.

Chef says his potatoes tourné tend to "look like Fred Flintstone carved them," instead of the perfect seven-sided pieces prescribed in classic French cooking.

He says his ciseler of an onion is the "German method, not French."

And Chef Dan sometimes will add a dash of cream when it's not called for (pommes duchesse) or rescue a broken sauce with a little water.

Yet, his movements, his teaching and, most important, his results, bring us back to the basic and classic outcomes.

Could it be that this chef of lengthy experience both in restaurant and classroom kitchens, was influenced by the dame of French cooking in America? Yes, is the decided answer.

"I was in eighth grade, I believe, and I was a latch-key kid. You know, I had my own key to let myself in. I would get home about 2:45 each afternoon and turn on television. Julia Child came on at 3 o'clock. I would sit there and eat my cookies and watch her. She made an impression that stayed with me for many years."

Up until right now, I would say.

Chef's recollection came last week as he taught us how to make the classic French omelet. His memory was prompted by my remarking that he had called to mind Julia Child's program in which she showed how to make the French omelet, dropping two beaten eggs into a pan and shaking until the omelet took its shape and she plated it. Sixty seconds of perfect technique resulting in a perfect omelet.

Julia's influence continues on for me. In this manifestation, Chef Dan Fluharty's passion and his considerable skills are the vehicles.

'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.

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.)

Inspiring women: my Mom and Julia

(Note: Chef Tony Marano assigned students in his Culinary Foundations I class at the California Culinary Academy to write a short essay on our reactions to a book about food and cooking. This is my essay.)

    Food is culture.

   Julia Child’s “My Life in France” bears witness to that, revealing her embrace of the fullness of French cuisine and the way of life it represents.

   She fell in love with French food and cooking and inevitably with the French people and everything about them. She learned their language, allowing her to encounter and befriend them and adopt French life in every sense.

   She appreciated from literally her first meal in France that good food well prepared by long-established and refined custom was the common denominator in French culture.

   Her recounting of those experiences led me to recognize more clearly than ever that what I learned in my Mexican mother’s kitchen wasn’t cooking; it was culture. And when I cook from the repertoire of recipes and techniques that my mom taught me – both by osmosis and direct instruction – I am respecting and renewing my culture.

   Rooted in corn and chiles, ours is a cuisine of robust flavors and smells and of bright and earthy colors. As such, it reflects the robust and colorful culture that is my heritage.

   Julia Child inspires me to continue pursuing knowledge of food and culinary arts as part of my culture – how these foods, in this place, prepared in this way, presented and eaten thusly reveal the ongoing life of a people.

   She ends her story by declaring that “the pleasures of the table, and of life, are infinite – toujours bon apétit!”

   To which I say, ¡Claro que si – que aprovecho!

Next best thing to cooking and eating good food is ...

... reading about cooking and eating good food.

My reading for pleasure includes a good portion of food and cooking writing. Not cookbooks, although I peruse those, too, and have a collection of nearly 100 cookbooks. We're talking books about food and cooking as culture. Here are a few examples, including my most recent and current readings:

* "My Life in France", Julia Child's story told with her great-nephew Alex Prud'homme. I just finished this warm and enlightening book in which the mother of good American cooking tells how she immersed herself in French culture, including its cuisine, and came up with her permanently relevant "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" and masterful PBS television series, "The French Chef". (Special thanks to friend and colleague Diane Luber for lending me her copy of "My Life in France".)

* "Heat", by Bill Buford. This is my current reading, a revealing tale of Buford's year or more around super chef Mario Batali and his Babbo restaurant, including Buford on the trail of the Mario mystique in Italy and elsewhere. The book title's subtext tells it all: "An amateur's adventure as kitchen slave, line cook, pasta-maker, and apprentice to a Dante-quoting butcher in Tuscany." (A second nod of thanks to Diane Luber.)

* "Down and Out in Paris and London", by George Orwell. I haven't read this, but it was recommended by Chef Tony Marano, one of my professors at the California Culinary Academy. Especially compelling, it seems, are the tales from Paris breadlines and the lives of workers in restaurant kitchens.

* "Beef: And Other Bovine Matters", by John Torode. This offering showed up attached to a recipe for seared beef tenderloin with thyme in my daily Epicurious.com New Recipes feed. The book description shows it leans heavily on recipes but also appears to contain a good deal of the history of beef, breeds, butchering and other background. Torode was born in Australia and now runs restaurants in London.

* Just about anything by M.F.K. Fisher. Here's a list of her works. Most compelling titles: "How to Cook a Wolf", her only novel "Not Now but Now" and "The Story of Wine in California".

* Anthony Bourdain is overexposed, methinks, but he is a talented writer. Try "A Cook's Tour", in which Bourdain sets out to find the perfect meal and travels the world.

This list is sadly incomplete, like a tomato sauce with only tomatoes. There are many more, and I will add to the list in this blog as time allows.

(Photo credits: George Orwell -- top right -- from levity.com. M.F.K. Fisher -- lower left -- from her official Website)

Cooking like Julia, in under one hour!

The first recipe in Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" is Potage Parmentier, Leek and Potato Soup. It's simple, takes little time to make and, most of all, it is delicious!

Practicing my knife work for culinary school led me to make a good pot of Potato and Leek Soup last evening. I small diced 1 pound of potatoes and thinly sliced 1 pound of leeks, put them in 2 quarts of water, tossed in 2 tablespoons of salt and simmered for 45 minutes. Then I mashed the softened veggies with a fork. Just before serving, off the heat, I stirred in 2 1/2 tablespoons of softened, unsalted butter. To add color, mince some chives or a little parsley to garnish and serve.

Start to finish -- 1 hour. The working part of the recipe took 15 minutes.

A couple of important steps for the novice cooks: Peel the potatoes before dicing; wash the leeks thoroughly to remove dirt that is embedded in the tight folds of the leaves.

It's a great place to start making Julia's recipes. The result is a soup that she is seen making in the photo and that she describes: "Leek and potato soup smells good, tastes good, and is simplicity itself to make."

(Photo credit: media.onsugar.com)

Culinary school: Daily quiz, yes; Anthony Bourdain, no

The changing room was vacant for a few minutes as I donned my uniform for the first day of classes at the California Culinary Academy today. I buttoned my jacket to the top, put on my commis and stood in front of the mirror.

I inhaled and exhaled two times -- normal breathing -- then took a third deep breath and let it out slowly. I walked out the door to my first class. Not quite Neil Armstrong's "one small step ... one giant leap ... ". Yet it was my own small but brave stride into a new, exciting world.

Chef John Meidinger and Chef Tony Marano greeted me and my classmates, and we plunged in. Even the fits-and-starts preliminaries -- a book or two missing from the book bags, a tool or two missing from the knife kits, the necessary building tour including how to get out and where to go in case of fire -- were moments we embraced. Each turn had a newness that kept us enthused beginning to end, the way a good meal does, from amuse bouche to dessert and coffee.

Day 1 brought the news that Day 2 and every day after it will mean a quiz in the Safety and Sanitation class, taught by Chef John.

Culinary Foundations I is being taught by Chef Tony in a demonstration kitchen where we will learn the bare-bones basics of terminology, kitchen organization, proper use of tools, basic food science principles -- finally, a mention of actual food! -- and foundational sauces and stocks.

Chef Tony wants a 250-word essay by next week reflecting on the inspiration each of us has gotten from reading a book on cooking. Mine will be on Julia Child's "My Life in France," which I have nearly finished reading. One caveat from Chef Tony: "I've had it with Anthony Bourdain, up to here," he said, slashing his hand across his throat. " Anything else is fine."

Second day of classes begins in 15 hours. I cannot wait.

(Anthony Bourdain photo credit: www.toliveandeatinla.com)

Uniform pressed, knives sharpened: Let's cook!

Monday will be the first day of classes at the California Culinary Academy.

Am I nervous? Right down to the toes of my brand-new, skid-proof kitchen shoes.

In preparation, I pressed my uniform jacket and pants, shined those skid-proof shoes, put my commis (headgear, as seen in my photo at right), neckerchief, towels and apron in a duffel bag and bought a nifty new notebook and a package of pens. I plan to take plenty of notes.

Also in preparation, I am making a hearty dinner for tonight -- a big pot of posole, from scratch. (Details, including recipe, in a future blog posting.)

Anticipation and eagerness are balancing my nerves. Having read Julia Child's "My Life in France," I know this will take practice, discipline, hard work and, most of all, passion.

Passion. Julia had it, no doubt.

Passion. The chefs who run the Academy have it, clearly.

Passion. It's simmering toward a rolling boil in me.

Let's get cooking.

Nowhere near mastering the art of French cooking

Having read Julia Child's vivid description of it in "My Life in France", I wanted to try her aïgo bouïdo -- garlic soup. She wrote of making it with 16 cloves of garlic, and despite that the "garlic flavor wasn't harsh: it was indescribably exquisite and aromatic."

Into "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" I went, following Julia's clear, detailed instructions. That included the laborious whisking of first the egg yolks as the olive oil was emulsified drop by drop, then the egg and oil concoction as the hot soup was dripped into it. Total whisking time -- steady, without a break -- for me on this project was about 20 minutes.

The result was, indeed, an aromatic and flavorful soup without harsh garlic flavor. Yet, it was quite on the thin side, almost watery. Is that how it is supposed to be? Julia didn't say, in either of her books.

Perhaps I missed the mark in the whisking, which I thought was complete and vigorous, but which evidently left the egg aspect of the dish unfulfilled.

We partook for dinner, including Julia's suggestion of bread with cheese. But it just didn't have the heartiness to it that we are accustomed to in my fairly lengthy repertoire of homemade soups.

It also wasn't the hearty meal we are accustomed to for dinner. We concluded that I had made it properly -- the flavor and aroma were as Julia described. But unless I can figure out how to make my version thicker and heartier, it will be for us a starter dish, not the main course for future meals.

(Photo credit: ww.goodbite.com)

Julia Child: Book reveals a Renaissance woman

Julia Child is recognized as the progenitor of good cooking in America, and she clearly was in the vanguard of classic French cooking in America.

Her book, My Life in France, co-written with her great-nephew Alex Prud'homme and which I am reading, reveals a Renaissance woman. Julia Child not only became an expert in French cuisine, but her years in France further developed what already was an intellect and a spirit open to many things.

She learned to speak French. She was familiar with the classics in art and literature. She knew history and contemporary events, most especially as they affected her beloved France.

Most important, the book reveals that Julia Child understood the world didn't begin and end at the suburban shopping mall. She grasped the big picture and lived her life by it.

With a nod of thanks to Julia

Surely she would say a cook must adapt to circumstances, and thus my deviation from Julia Child's instructions for Boeuf Bourguignon.

Julia's recipe calls for the main part of the cooking to occur in the oven, in a "fireproof" casserole dish with a cover. Not possessing one, I kept it on the stove-top, using my heavy steel soup pot.

Could that be why the sauce did not thicken as Julia says it should and as we have experienced with the real deal at more than one Paris bistro?

Nevertheless, it was a major hit in my household. My wife and No. 1 fan very happily declared it my "best ever" cooking effort. I might not go that far, but it came close to Julia's description of Boeuf Bourguignon in "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" -- "Carefully done, and perfectly flavored, it is certainly one of the most delicious beef dishes concocted by man ... "

After it stewed for 2 1/2 hours on the stove top, I boiled potatoes and pearl onions and added them to the mix for a final 20-30 minutes.

And, there are leftovers, which will taste even better tomorrow.

It should be Julia first, then Julie

A full biographical film on the life of Julia Child would have, should have, could have been more appealing than the two-story combo now in theaters.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed Julie & Julia, mostly for its entertainment value but also for what seemed to be a fact-based portrayal of how Julia Child got her start and how she became the "mother" of modern American cooking and the entire movement to higher quality cooking and eating.

(The Food Network, Anthony Bourdain and Top Chef, among many others, can thank Julia for raising awareness of good food well prepared, allowing American society to accept such an inundation of programming devoted to cooking and eating.)

What the movie paid only passing attention to were the behind-the-scenes details of not only Julia Child's professional life but of Julie Powell's. A for-instance: No one washed a pot, a pan or a dish during the film's 124 minutes. Not that such a scene would have added a lot, but let's be realistic: When the cooking and eating are done, cleanup awaits.

I have read parts of Julia Child's biography and all of "Julie & Julia" by Julie Powell, and the essence of both is captured by the film.

I simply would have enjoyed more, much more, of Julia Child's life.