Day eleven: Today I done good, sort of

Posted on | February 26, 2009

Today, motorcycle chef, in her wisdom (and I mean that literally) had us cook without our recipe cards in hand.

Did I mention that panic ran through the classroom with the snap and power of a mean streak of electricity?

See, we were clinging to our recipe cards the way a wee toddler clings to their favorite blankey. So chef decided we needed a weaning.

And you’ll never guess what happened.

“Endosperm is great to say because you get to say sperm.”
~ Motorcycle chef

In class today, we spent our time reviewing work covered to-date, having an impromptu quiz on measurements (which I panicked about and then only got one question wrong), and talked about work we will cover next week. Then we spent the rest of the time discussing the soups we were planning to make.

Me? I selected a puree of split pea soup. Why? Because it had ham in it and I had never cooked with ham (Bacon, sure, but bacon just doesn’t count, does it?).

That was my challenge for myself this morning. My fun, however, was the garnish. See, the recipe called for, oh yawn, croutons. Now, normally I like croutons. But when you are on day three of a four day binge of soups and at least a handful of soup groups make croutons every day, well, you can see why they are oh yawn.

Instead, I decided to make crisp peas. Rationale: The crunch of the peas would be a nice counterpoint to the smooth, fatty (It calls for bacon and ham and mirepoix sweated in bacon fat, so how do you spell fatty?) soup.

Chef answered our galloping questions then set us free in her nice, clean kitchens without so much as a single recipe card among us.

Chef is a brave soul, isn’t she?

“Duck confit is fatty, yummy, salty, naughty goodness.”
~ Motorcycle chef

I got into the kitchen armed only with an ingredient list and all the thought I had put into the recipe last night (and throughout the night; nothing like winging it to interrupt the sleep). Here’s what I had:

1 oz bacon, diced
1/2 cup mirepoix, medium dice
1/2 garlic clove, chopped
24 ounces chicken stock
4 ounces split peas, washed and sorted
6 ounces ham hocks
sachet: 1/2 bay leaf, 1/8 teaspoon dried thyme, 1/8 teaspoon peppercorns crushed
salt and pepper to taste

And here is what I did:

First, I washed those dried peas and put them into a stockpot with the chicken stock. I set that to a low (alas, I learned later, too low) simmer to cook. I figured they needed an hour to an hour and a half.

Then I diced the bacon and put that in a saucepan to render.

Then I made not one, but two sachets.

“Tortillas are great to do with kids because it keeps them busy. The stuff is the Play Doh of the food world.”
~ Motorcycle chef

One of the things I like about my classmates is that they are so willing and eager to help (I introduced you to many of them, as well as to my two chef instructors, the day before yesterday).

For example, this morning, one of the members of my immediate group (reminder: The class is broken into groups of three or four), asked me how to make a sachet. I made one yesterday for my chicken stock, so I was happy to explain how it is done.

But then he had an idea. He said “Hey, tell you what, how ’bout you make the sachet for me and I’ll cut up your mirepoix for you.” Sounded fine by me, so I agreed.

Then I had a bit of insight into why poor complaining girl does not gel with the rest of the class. It is because she does not get involved in that sort of coorperation. She never offers help to anyone else, she never offers to cut anything or give them foodstuffs she is not using, in fact, she never works with anyone with any sort of ease.

Still, it may be because she is uncomfortable, joining the class late and all. So I’ll be friendly and see what happens.

But I’m here to cook, so …

Once the bacon was cooked, I take it out and put it to one side, then I put my mirepoix into the bacon fat; cooking first the carrots; then, once they were aromatic, the celery; then once those were aromatic, the onions. The garlic went in as the onions were on their way.

All of this was to sweat on a low heat. This means, you don’t want to get those vegetables brown because browning means you are caramelizing and not sweating.

My damn vegetables were turning brown.

Checked the heat. Low. Checked the vegetables. Bits of brown. But not a carmelization brown. Ah ha! They were cooking in bacon fat. Of course there would be some brown. From the bacon and all.

Relief.

As that cooked, I made my sachet and the sachet for my group member. Then, when the vegetables were done, they, along with the sachet and the bacon (Hindsight: No need to reserve the bacon. Although, if I had made more, it might had made a nice garnish.) were added to the stock.

“Stress is gonna kill you. That’s why I’m down to one boyfriend instead of three.”
~ Motorcycle chef

Time to make my crispy peas. Put them into a saucepan. Not much happening. Turned heat up. Nothing. Grabbed Nepal chef. With a glint in his eye, he twirled his cape and said “To the deep fryer we go.” Well, he didn’t really (but wouldn’t it have been marvelous if he had, I ask you?), but he did suggest deep frying, so the peas went into a strainer (the mesh holes of the deep fryer bucket were so far apart those peas would have been lost at sea), and the strainer went into the fryer. The moisture in the peas turned all that hot oil into a bubbling, seething mass that on celluloid would have signaled the imminent appearance of Godzilla. Then, as fast as that, the peas were done.

They were spread out on paper towels. Tossed with salt. And they were a real hit.

Which was good. Because my soup was not.

See, I had set those peas to too low of a simmer. So they were taking forever to cook. So motorcycle chef turned up the heat. So the stock was evaporating. So motorcycle chef told me to add more stock. So I did. Only I added too much and my soup was too soupy.

But I learned a lot. Namely that it is much more fun to cook without a recipe. Scary, yes. But more fun.

And you can never go wrong with deep fried food.