The heat is on: cooking at a torrid pace

Anyone who has seen the frenzy of a restaurant kitchen in the middle of service can appreciate the steadily accelerating pace we face in Culinary Foundations III.

Chef Dan Fluharty reminds us repeatedly that he is pushing us so we are prepared for the hectic routine of most restaurants.

The past week is a prime example. We have gone from making two plated meals in 90 minutes to making a three-course meal in two hours. The difference might seem minimal. But the three-course meal always involves four or more of the seven basic cooking techniques and three-dozen or more ingredients for eight or nine plated items.

Take Tuesday's entrée: We made osso buco for the first time, braising it as we have done with other meats. On the same plate, we prepared a side dish of risotto Milanese, which we have made a couple of times before, along with braised leeks and carrots. First course was a Salade Nicoise with hand-made vinaigrette, and second course was a soup, borscht.

Chef's requirements for the repeat dishes are getting tighter, as are his overall standards. He wants proteins cooked to his specifications, sauces that are seasoned, flavorful and consistent in texture and starches and vegetables that are neither crunchy nor mushy.

Tall orders, yes. We are running fast but managing to keep up.

(Photo: My cooking station mates Richard Johnson (left) and Rob Park (center) and Chef/Instructor Dan Fluharty.)

Got the salt right; now pepper needs work

Not enough pepper was the key criticism -- and disappointment -- over my "best ever" beef stew in culinary school today.

The stew was one-inch dice of beef chuck in a sauce flavored with veal stock, salt, pepper, tomato purée and a bit of stewed tomatoes, garlic and yellow onion. Covered slow cooking, like a braise, deepened the flavors and reduced the sauce to a nice hearty thickness. At the end of the hour-long cooking time, blanched carrots, pearl onions, potatoes tourné and peas went into the pot for final texture and flavor.

It was a good, non-heart-stopping exercise to get us back into the swing of culinary school after two weeks off. The crucial last five minutes did, of course, bring the stress level up a bit. But it appeared that everyone managed to complete the cooking, plating and presentation in the allotted time.

I was last to present, and Chef tasted nearly every component of my plate. He was happy with the meat, potatoes, vegetable and garnish. Only the sauce fell short, and then only for a slight lack of pepper, Chef said.

Monday's "salt band" lesson must have taken; Chef said the salt was just right.

Culinary school quotes of the week, Week 11

A motto to live by
"It makes cheap and cheerful quickly."
-- Chef Dan Fluharty (right), describing the benefits of preparing and serving polenta.

Enough already
"I had more than my share of fried stuff today. I'm through with fried."
-- Culinary student Fontaine McFadden after "Fryday" in the classroom kitchen, where, basically, if it wasn't moving, we battered it and fried it. Oh, and ate a good bit of it. 

Dare you to mess this up
"This is probably one of the most stupid-proof sauces we have."
-- Chef Dan Fluharty describing a soy-ginger sauce used with tempura-battered fish. 

Aromatherapy culinary style
"It makes your house smell good."
-- Culinary student John Briggs, touting one benefit of braising. 

Cooking: glamorous? No, glabrous
"You can always tell a good sauté cook or a good grill cook: no hair on the forearms."
-- Chef Dan Fluharty, moments after pulling his singed arm away from the stove top when cooking veal scaloppini.

'Restaurant pace' comes to culinary school

The beginning of Week 11 in culinary school brought us to what Chef Dan Fluharty called "restaurant pace," meaning we are working by the day now at the pace and intensity we would be in a real restaurant kitchen.

Could have fooled me; I though we had hit that pace at least a week ago, if not farther back.

Today's pace was swift, but it didn't seem unreasonable or chaotic. In two hours of cooking time, we did mise en place and the cooking for three braised dishes -- a beef stew, chicken fricasée and red cabbage. Plus we made puff pastries, although they were from pre-rolled dough and not from scratch.

"It's braising day," Chef announced at the beginning of class. "It's one of the hardest days in the whole curriculum. Why? Timing and the long time it takes to cook."

Indeed, braising is a lengthy process because it involves slow, low heat cooking, designed to turn tough pieces of meat and poultry tender and draw out their flavors. "It's cooking that is as slow as you can get it," Chef Dan said.

The slowness is worthwhile. The flavors cajoled from meats in braising hit the top of the umami chart. Other students seemed to agree.

Chef Dan's remark that, "It couldn't be a better time of year to do braising, because it's colder than the dickens outside," inferred to me that braising focuses at least in part on what we would call comfort foods.

Not to mention that, if I do say so myself, I consider braising to be in my sweet spot when it comes to cooking. I have done it often, and it's my favorite culinary technique.

Evidence comes in the beef stew and chicken fricasée that I brought home from school today: There wasn't any left over.

The epic poetry of 'le braiser'

   (Note: The final essay assignment for Culinary Foundations I class at the California Culinary Academy was to describe either the soups at a local restaurant or one of the seven techniques of French cooking. I focused on le braiser. This is my essay.)
 
   To analyze poetry is to demystify it by removing the romance and the magic. The same applies to the romance and the magic of the culinary art. For at its best, it is poetry.

   If that is so, the epic poem of Les Cuissons Francaise is braiser, or braising.

   Braising is the Beowulf, the Odyssey, the Bhagavata Purana of the culinary techniques because of what it does for an average -- or worse -- piece of meat or poultry. The deep, complex flavors it coaxes from every ingredient are nonpareil in all other techniques.

   Additionally, it demonstrates the height of skillfulness in the chef because of its very complexity. The slow, deliberate, low-temperature approach requires the chef’s full concentration, patience and timing. It also requires a bold, visceral, artistic knowledge that extends well beyond simply following the recipe or the directions.

   "This technique separates the chefs from the cooks," California Culinary Academy Chef Instructor John Meidinger says.

   He may just as well say that braising separates the epic poets from the writers of rhyme.

   Braising brings a tender, submissive romance to the toughest piece of beef. And it uses the toughness itself to create a magical potion of sauce, elevated to untold heights of flavor in the skillful hands of the chef poet.

   Just as Beowulf himself was attended to by “the ring-adorned queen, of excellent heart, (who) bore the mead-cup … ”, the poetic chef brings the romance and the magic of le braiser to the table as the finest offering of Le Cuisson Francaise.

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)