Pink of Perfection

It seems to me that the Grand Diplôme program has about 47 lessons in pastry which, in my book, may just be 45 too many. But at the very least, I’ll be learning the difference among them, which is probably a basic culinary knowledge requirement.

We begin, class, with Pâte Sucrée, a rich, slighty sweet pastry made with flour, butter, eggs, and sugar. This is the backbone for sweet tarts and pies (though people also make pies, of course, with pâte brisée, a pastry dough made without sugar and sometimes without egg). It’s nice to have options.

I made this tart to bring to a barbecue on Saturday night. This means I spent hours on a rainy Saturday afternoon, listening to Lauryn Hill, showing off my mad rapping skillz, slicing strawberries, rolling out dough, and admiring the silver shine of a tart pan. My meditation practice, sadly, has never really made the jump from “sporadic thing I do” to “part of my daily routine” but weekend baking is a great stand-in. In the relaxed assemblage of a baked good, it seems we have no choice but to be in the moment and enjoy the crack of thunder and hiss of rain on the black pavement.

Continue reading “Pâte Sucrée: Strawberry Tart with Buttermilk Vanilla Pastry Cream” »

“Does this look ’50s?”

We were trying to take a picture of the perfectly browned roast chicken and peppers sauteed with ham in a way that didn’t look like a culinary flashback. I think the parsley garnish is working against our efforts here; maybe you should leave it out.

Retro looks aside, this was delicious. As I mentioned last week, I was definitely averse to all the flipping involved in roasting this chicken. And what kind of thrifty girl uses half a stick of butter rubbing the chicken? But then I channeled Julia Child giving her chicken a “butter massage,” and I felt as if I were part of an important culinary lineage. And more importantly, this was the best looking chicken I ever roasted with a crisp, lovely brown skin. And who cares that all the flipping made me so dizzy I finished the roasting backside up? Next time I’ll get it right.

Continue reading “Roasting: Chicken Basquaise” »

Talk about striking gold.

On Saturday night, my sister handed me — or should I say “dropped on the dinner table with a bit of effort and a heavy thud” — 72 issues of an at-home cooking course put out by the Cordon Bleu in the ’70s. Edited by the venerable Anne Willan, each issue contains 1-3 lessons that cover basic cooking techniques. I am both in awe of and slightly afraid of these booklets. First off, there is entirely too much aspic and gelatin for my liking. Secondly, to say that food photography has come a long way in the past 40 years is the understatement of the week. Case(s) in point:

On the other hand, I am a big fan of programs of study and a regimented approach to a field. I like coming at things systematically, learning how to roast, then steam, then fillet a fish, then make pie pastry, and checking off boxes when I achieve something (list makers out there will know what I’m talking about). And hello, if you’re going to embark on an at-home cooking school education, it might as well be from the Cordon Bleu in a series edited by Anne Willan.

So I think I’m going to go for it. I’m stoked, and yet terrified. I’ll admit to having tried my first lesson last night (more on this next week), and I was reminded of what my friend Kim said recently when she decided to study Hebrew: “It feels good to learn things. You appreciate it more as an adult.” Having roasted a fair number of chickens in my life, it was interesting to try something in a new way, no matter how initially resistant I was to the extra effort involved.

So I’m jumping in with both feet. I’ll adapt the ingredients slightly (if necessary) to bring them into the 21st century, and cross reference Mastering the Art of French Cooking when necessary, but basically I’ll go by the book. Grand Diplôme, you shall be mine!