Ms. Glaze's Pommes d'Amour

Private Cooking Class

I had the privilege today of having two famous Paris bloggers over to my house for a little privé cooking session. I can't tell you how honored I was to entertain Maitresse and Gill of Confessions of a Young Woman. Gill emailed me last week and asked if I'd be interested. Of course I said yes! Like there was even an option!!! Luckily for me I had a little assistance from my cooking partner Jamie at Le Cordon Bleu and my husband who is one of the best mixologists I know of.

I have to admit I was a little nervous at first. Only because there is something voyeuristic about reading other peoples daily posts. Then meeting that person in person, is slightly bizarre at first. Serious deja vu, because you already know about their history. You can talk about people/problems in their lives (boyfriends, family, work etc) like you've known them for years. I have been fascinated with their journeys in Paris, so our cooking session was a great excuse to finally meet in person and swap stories.
So here's what we made based on French cooking techniques:

Spring Menu:
Vegetable Soup Provencal with Pistou
Beef Tournedos with Béarnaise Sauce and turned Artichokes
Tarte au Citron & Tarte aux Poires Frangipane & Tarte aux Frambois et Frangipane

We started with basic cutting technique (mirepoix, paysanne, brunoise, julienne) for our vegetable soup and moved onto multiple tart variations. We tried our hand at grilling meat, turning artichokes, and making the alltime French classic, bearnaise sauce. Quite an ambitious meal for one day.

My husband used the simple syrup I had poached the pears in from the Tarte aux Poire et Frangipane, and created a vodka cocktail with mint. It was so refreshing and I'm afraid, a little too drinkable. The essence of lemon, cinnamon, cointreau, and fresh pear in the syrup really created the most sublime spring time cocktail.

We chopped, we grilled, we baked, we laughed, we drank, we ate and ate and ate. Good time had by all...can't wait to do it again...I think next time I'll start the refreshments a little later in the lesson :-)

Vegetable Soup Provencal recipe to follow...

Technorati Tags: Paris, soup

We Don't Walk to Cordon Bleu, We Fly!!!

Yesterday we took our written exam, which nobody studied for. We tried to study, really we did, but no one was able to concentrate. The questions on the test never seem to match what we have in our notebooks so we've all just given up. The closest analogy is the American S.A.T., which doesn't test your knowledge, but instead your test taking abilities. I barely passed the intermediate written final and I studied. Go figure.

Nonetheless, Le Cordon Bleu students are a happy bunch. I caught one student flying back from our local cafe after our brief session of cramming...our brief session of cramming coffee and pastries into our bellies!!!

I left the written exam feeling pretty good until I got home and started looking up questions I thought I had answered correctly. Those darn questions in Celsius really drive me crazy (what is the maximum temperature of freezer?... uh, I dunno...cold!?!) Then I realized that I probably just passed the Superior written exam too. Hey, I'm an actor, what can I say? I memorize dialogue, not inane facts that anyone can get from the internet – Jeez, I can't be perfect at everything!

Speaking of perfect (eh-ehmmm), I was pretty darn proud of my technical plate exam today. Our demo was at 8:30 A.M with the examination following. I barely made it because my alarm clock decided not to work and I just happened to wake up with sunlight streaming in my bedroom window disturbing my slumber. I called a taxi who came pronto and sped me across town so that I could make my final on time.

Our incredible Superior Chef demonastrated a recipe that used just about every part and every animal I can think of. Delicious and deceptively simple: Selle D'Agneau Prince Noir Et Son Gateau Au Lard Paysan (Black Prince Saddle of Lamb and Bacon-Potato Cake) Our Chef walked us through the steps carefully making sure there was no cause for concern.

The most difficult part is butchering the lamb. It must be taken off the bone and then butterflied. The farce (stuffing) is made of ground up veal and carefully brunoised mushrooms, carrots, shallots, and black truffles. Served with a cake of mouthwatering fat: foie gras, cured tongue, bacon, and potatoes on a bed of savoy cabbage. Not for those on any sort of diet of any kind, with the exception of Atkins perhaps.

The practical was relaxed. We all whizzed through our technical cuts without any problems. The biggest issue was the heat in the kitchen and the sweat rolling down our foreheads blurring our vision. I'd say the hardest part was cooking the lamb to the right temperature. Even though I used a meat thermometer I could tell that it was still too rare.

I put my lamb loaf back in the oven – which was a smart idea. Lamb can be very hard to get just right. Over cooked and it's tasteless and tough, but lamb sushi isn't good either. It has to be perfectly rosé. I cooked it just the way I like it, so I was happy. My layer-of-lard-cake turned out nice and so did my jus. The chef told me "Super! Super!" (zuhpear, zuhpear!) Let's hope it makes up for my written exam!

One more exam to go..the Final where we get a basket of ingredients and have to create recipes. Hey, how come only two people have answered my challenge!?!?! Doesn't anyone like pigeon!?!?

P.S.
Thanks for all the encouraging responses on my upcoming stage. I was happily surprised by all the positive feedback ;-)

Gros Bisous!

Le Stage, Part III

I hate to sound like one of those highly excitable teenagers, but – Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God – I got my stage (internship) at Guy Savoy!!!! Whew-hoo!!! Yippeee!!! I'm going to be a stagier!!!

I got the phone call in the morning. I heard it ringing and I thought, "That's odd, nobody calls me except my husband and he's home, everyone else texts me or emails me... I wonder if it's... naaaah, couldn't be..." But then I looked at the number and it was French and my heart started racing.

So, instead of picking it up I let it go to voice mail. Why? Because my french is horrible and the thought of having to converse without preplanning my dialogue brings on panic attacks. I then made some coffee, sat down next to my phone and stared at it.

I liken the experience to playing the lottery. Once you buy the ticket you can dream about what it would be like to actually win. How it would change your life. What plastic surgery, fancy cars or mansions you might buy. But most of all, how you would be able to pursue your passions and please the people closest to you. Up until the day the numbers are drawn, you are a millionaire. So naturally, up until I received that phone call, I was already a cook at Guy Savoy in my mind. I had already imagined what it would be like.

Then the question was, do I pick up the phone and dash my dream to a million pieces or should I just let the phone lie there beeping at me every two minutes to tell me there's a voicemail?

As I sipped my coffee the thought hit me: what if I really did get the stage? Oh merde, what am I going to do? My french is horrible, I'm female (and yes, that is an issue in France), people are going to yell at me all day long, and I'm going to have to work 14 hour days with only two hours for rest midday. I'm too old for this!

After slurping my last slug of coffee, I reached for the phone and listened to the message. Low and behold, it was my favorite Superior Cuisine chef calling to tell me that they have approved my internship and they liked my letter or motivation. I think he said that he was very excited for me. The message, which I still have saved on my phone, said something like this, (I don't understand all the inbetween words): "Oui bonjour Amy, je vous... appelez...avec beaucoup plasir...Guy Savoy acceptez vous...bon journée..."

When I got to school my Superior Cuisine Chef gave me a big hug and looked down on me (he's 6' 6" in his chef's shoes) like a proud and happy papa. I told him that I was scared but excited and he said I'd do just fine. I think most people were really surprised that I got the stage (including myself). I'm really going to miss class with the Superior Cuisine Chef, what an incredible talent and good spirited person.

Two weeks left of school, one written final this Friday and one four hour cooking final on the 22nd. Then I start my stage on June 1st. June 1st!!! Has anyone learned French in just two weeks??? Oh la la la la!!!

The only catch is that now I have to go back into Guy Savoy (after my bizarre first encounter) and get all my paperwork signed. As trivial as this sounds, that means I again have to bypass the receptionists and ask for the chef and then I have to talk with him. When you can't hold a phone conversation in a foreign language that means everything has to get done by person or email.

Oh well, a small price to pay for such an incroyable opportunity!

P.S
Thanks for keeping your fingers crossed for me ;-)

Technorati Tags: Cooking School, Le Cordon Bleu, Paris, paris cooking school, stage

Pays Basque

3 days, 3 gorgeous coastal cities, and 3 unique Basque cultures: Biarritz, Hendaye, San Sebastian...

Forget Nice & Cannes and come to the original Cote d'Azur for surfing, delcious food & pinxtos, fabulous inexpensive wine, and happening nightlife. From Paris catch the TGV to Biarritz and the local trains between cities, each within 18 kilometers of each other.

Biarritz, prized for it's natural beauty and healing waters, was popularized by Napoleon III who built a palace for his wife Eugenie upon the gorgeous coastline. Now us "little people" can enjoy the same luxury at Eugenie's palace which was converted into the famous Hotel Palais. The hotel is famous for more than just hosting Emperor's and Empresses, it was turned into an American army college after World War II to re-educate war veterans so that they could earn degrees and enter back into American society with new skills.

Biarritz is by no means a sleepy surf town, there is still a glitzy french feel to the seaside cafe's and nightclubs. However, one can easily tell that it's hay day has come and gone. New construction and spa hotels are attempting to bring it back to it's former glory, but I hope it remains as is.

Take the train to Hendaye for a more unique Basque experience. Here, most of the population still speaks Basque, but you can get by with Spanish or French. Our friend's just bought a house by the beach, so we spent the day walking the coastline and the night eating delicious home cooked food: potato tortilla, rabbit stew, cider, Basque wine, jambon – cut from the leg itself (which, they actually have in their house!!!). I was really impressed by the potato tortilla which is also called a Spanish omelet, a mixture of potatoes and eggs. Simple and delicious (recipe to follow)

If you're a fan of Spanish tapas, then you'll appreciate the Basque version called pinxtos (little pinches) and the tradition of munching from one restaurant to the next in search of the best bite. These little treats run the gamut from baguette slices piled high with crab salad, smoked salmon, and caviar to bites of freshly carved jambon with pimento and melted sheep's cheese. We walked up and down the streets paved with history eating, laughing, drinking, and enjoying each other's company.

San Sebastian, our final Basque destination, retained all the beauty and glitz of Biarritz (if not more) but had a dominant Spanish influence as opposed to French. Warm people, picture perfect coastline dotted with sail boats and sun worshisers, and the best nightlife of all three places. San Sebastian reminded me of Barcelona but with more places to grab pinxtos and wine. I was also impressed by the age range of the night life. This is place for all ages to enjoy a little stroll down the beach and glass of rioja or sparkling cava (the Spanish version of champagne) at night – it doesn't matter if you're 91 or 19, everyone's strolling about at night and having a good time.

We returned to rainy Paris by train, disappointed that we weren't able to soak up more sun and fun. Lazily, we watched the sun set through our window and munched tasteless train food dreaming of pinxtos, rioja, cava, warm coastlines, and good friends...we'll be back soon, I'm sure.

Spanish Potato Tortilla recipe on next page..

Technorati Tags: Basque, Biarritz, Hendaye, San Sebastian, surf

Laverie Automatique Part II

Back from A weekend in Basque Country, the laundromat saga continues...

My husband and I did something really really naughty tonight. We brought in three huge loads of laundry five minutes after 9PM into our infamous laundromat. Fully aware of the cut off time, we ran with a huge army duffle bag balanced between us from our apartment – determined to get our wash done.

Just as we arrived and started stuffing washing machines, a teenager pointed to the sign on the door that read the "Dernier lavage a 9 PM" (last load at 9) and then she told us that the coin machine (yes, the infamous coin machine) would cut off and we'd be stuck. She insisted that we couldn't do our laundry anymore.

I responded that she was wrong: "Le Laverie ferme a dix heure!" and my husband started plugging coins into the machine which was still working. Out of nowhere he began to sing, "Il ma-arche, il ma-arche, il marche!" (it wo-orks, it wo-orks, it works!). Our brooding teen was not very happy with this. But let's face it, the French are sticklers for process –any one who's been through the Carte de Sejour process will agree.

The owner of the shop walked in and looked at all three of our loads carefully. He wished us all a good evening and walked out. Not a word about the time. No question about if we needed to use the dryers. Everything was hush, just the sound of clothes going around and around.

As soon as our disgruntled teenager's clothes dried, she balled them up and marched out. But, not before she wished us a "bon soireé" – another french formality that you must do no matter what the situation is. Oh, I felt pain for her. There's nothing worse than insisting that your right, not being right, having some one rub it in your face with a victory song, having to wait in silence for your laundry to finish, and then having to wish those awful Americans a good night anyway!

The owner let us dry our laundry and killed the machines at 11 P.M. Plenty of time to finish. We told him we had just got back from vacation and that we were sorry. He responded, "C'est normal, c'est normal"

Didn't loose or make any money tonight at the laundromat, so I guess we're still a few coins ahead.

Tune in next time for "As Our Clothes Turn" ...

Technorati Tags: Paris

Le Stage, Part II

This last week and a half has been wrought with anxiety. I turned in my papers a week ago for my estage (apprenticeship) to Guy Savoy, the three star restaurant and Guy's namesake, in the 17th. I had a bizarre embarrassing encounter with a person who I thought was the chef there. He didn't understand me and I certainly didn't understand him with my basic French skills. Regardless, I gave my letter of motivation, which I had translated into French, and my CV, then I said "Au Revoir" and bolted out of there – cheeks redder than molting lava.

The Amazing Superior Cuisine Chef at Le Cordon Bleu told me to turn in my packet first and said he would follow up with a phone call when he came back from his vacation. However, when he got back to school, two days ago, he said that I should go back and ask what my status is. Go back and ask? Are you kidding me? I would rather be thrown to a pack of hungry wolves!

I, of course, found this to be frustrating because my speaking capability is limited and I had already explained my messy first encounter. He also promised me that he would call and said that he was saving this apprenticeship for me because he knew how badly I wanted it! Doubly painful because he's one of my favorite chefs and I'm always appreciative of his incredible talent, sense of humor, and professional demeanor in the practicals.

But bad things come in three's... I was down in sous-sol, the kitchen of Le Cordon Bleu (and now my unofficial nickname), slaving away peeling endless petit onions, when I overheard my Chef talking to a student about his internship at a different Guy Savoy restaurant. (there are a few restaurants owned by Guy Savoy in Paris) Then he asks the student if he should call for him. He asks if he should call or not! What am I chopped liver? Mousse Paté? Yesterday's potatoes? What is going on?

Granted it's a different restaurant and I know that many Le Cordon Bleu students go there for their apprenticeships. I also know that students must seriously pursue the three star restaurants on their own, if they really want it. I believe that there has only been two or three students in the past to get into Guy Savoy because they only take one apprentice at a time and they are very selective

The 6 year old mentality took control of my brain in sous sol, and I let loose: "That's not fair, you're going to call for him and not for me?" To which he didn't reply because he does not speak English and he probably didn't know I was talking to him, but I'm sure he noticed my eyes filling with tears as I turned back around to peel more stupid little onions.

But hope is still alive...while we were making the lunch for the Le Cordon Bleu staff, he came down to sous-sol to eat. I had gotten over my earlier outburst and had psyched myself up to go back into Guy Savoy and ask again. But, to my surprise, he came up to me and put his arm around my shoulders, while I was concentrating on deboning chicken, and told me that he was going to call for me because I'm a good cook and "bonna personna" (italian for good person?). Now that's the Chef I know and love! Where did we go wrong?

Oh the drama language barriers can cause!!!

I won't find out till next week after our long weekend so keep your fingers crossed for me...

P.S. I'm traveling to Hen Dye to see some friends and then San Sebastian for some relaxation with my hardworking hubby this weekend so I might be computer-less for awhile.

Technorati Tags: Cooking School, Le Cordon Bleu, Paris, Paris restaurants

Beet Leaf Salad with Strawberry Vinaigrette

Every once and a blue moon I come up with something truly unusual and delicious. This spring salad starter was unforgettably tasty and beautiful in color. It matches perfectly with champagne too!

I happened to come across an unusual offering at my local Parisian farmer's market. At my lettuce guy's stall he had the usual spring bounty: petit pois, tender young carrots, new potatoes, arugula, frisee, small artichokes, red lettuce, etc. But then I spotted a brown bag filled with deep purple leaves. He let me munch one before buying and I was surprised at how sweet the leaves were. Firm texture, almost leathery, with a slightly acidic aftertaste. Who knew you could eat beet leaves!?!

I plated the salad with a strawberry vinaigrette and served ripe melon along side with blended blue cheese covered crostini's. If you're wondering if I've totally lost my mind, then you have just got to try it! I served my guests this starter and we all were surprised (including myself) at how delicious it was and how well it paired with the champagne. We followed with a little surf and turf of fillet and scallops with mango salsa. Yummy!

Happy May Day!!!
I've started to experiment with fruit in unconventional ways. In the past I've always assumed that fruit was for dessert or the cheese plate, but lately I've been learning how to bring it onto the dinner menu too. Like tandori John Dory with mango & papaya curry or scallops with a salsa of tomato, kiwi, and pineapple.

Recipe to follow...

P.S. No word on my estage at Guy Savoy yet...still waiting...uggh!

Technorati Tags: paris cooking school, recipes, vinaigrette