The one positive change that I've noticed, though, is that cleaning fish, birds, and other dead animals doesn't bother me half as much as it used to. While I wouldn't go so far as to say that I enjoy it, little things get me excited such as successfully ripping the tendons out of a chickens's legs through its "knees" or getting out all of its innards through the tail with one hand sweep of the cavity. I actually gave a gasp of delight when a chef showed me how to gut a fish just by pulling the gills. Okay, maybe this isn't a positive change - maybe this is how most serial killers get started - but it certainly makes life easier these days.
Monday
Our only task for the morning was to make the pan-roasted guinea fowl and "half-moon" cut vegetables from Friday's demonstration. The Korean lady was our chef, freshly back from her vacation in Thailand. My bird was a good bit under-cooked, but only because the chef herself had advised me to take it out of the oven (I didn't point this fact out to her).
Tuesday
My schedule was free from Monday morning's class until Tuesday evening's class and I used my time to clean the apartment and read before heading to school. Chef Vaca, also back from vacation, led a demonstration on terrine made from langoustines (scampi) and lamb sweetbreads which, as it turns out, aren't sweet or breads at all but the thymus or throat of a lamb (I actually thought that "sweetbread" referred to the brain, so you can imagine my relief... not that we probably won't have to cross that bridge eventually).
For the main course he made red mullets served inexplicably with the head and tail still attached - because who doesn't want his dinner to look partially alive? - and stuffed with a black olive tapenade next to a savory onion royal custard (think onion-flavored flan). The fish wasn't too bad, but the custard was horrific. Aside from the fact that it was incredibly bland (Vaca even admitted that it needed more salt), it had cooled by the time that we were able to taste it which only made its custard-y texture more repulsive. Dessert was nice at least: homemade ice cream served over poached pears and chocolate sauce.
Wednesday
Wednesday picked up the slack from the previous two days and we were faced for the first time with two cuisine practicums on the same day. The morning began with a pastry demonstration, though, in which Chef Tranchant instructed us on how to make the Jamaica, a recipe so complex that the ingredients took up two pages. It had a sponge cake base (similar to chocolate ladyfingers) topped with coconut mousse, poached pineapples, mango-passion fruit mousse, and a passion fruit glaze.
After lunch we made our way to the first cuisine practicum to make the stuffed red mullet. Chef Poupard was in charge, but another chef was with him - an American expat named Mark Singer who recently retired from Le Dodin restaurant (thanks, Google!). As in most practicums we weren't introduced to the chef and I assumed that he was in training. That assumption began to change, though, when he would stand next to me asking in a bored voice questions that I was never sure how to answer such as, "Would you eat a fish that looked like that?" or "Stop what you're about to do. What should your next logical step should be?"
He eventually followed one of his critiques sarcastically with, "But what do I know? I'm new here. I'm only the executive chef." I never even knew Le Cordon Bleu had an executive chef, but as it turned out he was the new one. Pointing to the classmate across from me, his final question was, "Why is your fish fuller than his?" After throwing out three or four guesses involving every part of the fish preparation that I could remember, I finally said, "Because his fish baked longer?" As it turned out, it was the chef's confusing way of telling me that my neighbor's fish was overcooked and mine was not.
One ongoing issue that always makes me a little crazy is that some students still don't understand that there are eight of us in our practicum, meaning that all ingredients need to be divided equally eight ways even if it's less than what the recipe calls for. On many occasions things run out before the slower students (I) can get to them, requiring that we have to "borrow" from our classmates. In this instance the black olives were gone before two or three of us got to them and they were already made into the tapenade. As a solution, we combined all of the tapenades into one and divided it among ourselves. This made the presentation of our final plates particularly entertaining because the chefs would evaluate each one differently (too much garlic, not enough salt, just right, etc.) not realizing that they were all from the same batch. Of course, when Poupard tried my tapenade he bit into a lemon seed, but protesting that I didn't actually make it seemed unwise.
Smelling of sweat and fish we joined the rest of our class in the cuisine demonstration with Chef Caals. This lesson focused on the cuisine from the Burgundy region of France where they are perhaps best known for their snails. Not to disappoint, Caals made tasty puff pastries filled with escargot and a mushroom mixture. The main course was a braised chicken and savory crapiaux (flapjacks). For dessert he made gingerbread and gingerbread ice cream, causing the whole room to smell like Christmas and making me deliriously happy.
The second cuisine practicum immediately followed the demonstration and another chef, an older gentleman whom I had never seen before, led the charge. He spoke no English and gave several passionate lectures to us in French even though only two of us had even a basic grasp of what he was saying, so mostly we just nodded and said, "Oui, Chef," a lot (which doesn't always work - he gave me a rather wild-eyed stare at one point). I wasn't even sure in the end if my dish was acceptable, although I'm fairly certain that he liked my sauce.
Thursday
Though complex, I felt that the Jamaica shouldn't be too difficult. It required that we cut long strips of the sponge cake the width of our elbow spatula to line the ring mold; however, what I hadn't counted on was that my spatula was a good bit wider than the ones provided in our knife kits (I bought a new one from Dehillerin after my school-issued one was stolen). When we added the second layer of mousse which was supposed to stand above the cake rim, I realized my mistake but could do little to fix it. The good news is that Chef Olivier, the one who likes to fail me and nearly did, is on vacation for several weeks and Chef Tranchant is much more understanding.
Friday
The first class of the day was a pastry demonstration with Chef Tranchant at 12:30. In what I'm guessing was an effort to quell talking, the class translator called all fifty-something of us into the room one at a time and assigned us seats. I enjoyed the change, though - for the first time ever I was able to sit in the front row. Tranchant made what is probably my favorite dessert in all of our classes to date, the Fraisier - a Genoise sponge cake with a mousseline cream and lots of fresh strawberries and topped with Italian meringue.
Our first intermediate pastry theory class immediately followed the demonstration. Tranchant gave us a brief lesson on chocolate - where it comes from, how cocoa powder and cocoa butter are made, what the types of chocolate are - and then took us through the process of tempering chocolate for decorations, a skill that will likely end up as the technical portion of our final exam. He ended the class by showing us how to write with the chocolate, something that we'll be putting into practice next week on our Opera cakes.
From the theory class we headed to our evening cuisine practicum to make the stuffed sea bream fillets. Another new and nameless chef was in charge, but he soon became my favorite chef ever. Aside from the fact that his voice sounded like Alan Rickman with a French accent, he was incredibly laid-back and calm or as some might say, "chill." He peeled the garlic, ginger, and shallots, setting them aside in a bowl for everyone, and even when he was critical he was likable. When I finished way last because I forgot to boil my lettuce leaves and then overcooked them and had to do them again, he never yelled or told me to hurry and he stated that my fish was "perfect." To top it all off, while I was cleaning up my utensils he scrubbed down my stove for me. That's the joy of a new chef - he's not cranky, tired, and irritated with all of us yet.
Saturday
We had only one morning class before we were officially finished for the weekend. Most of us were pretty excited about the Fraisier, stating that it was the one dessert that we wouldn't be giving away or storing in the freezer. This dessert was going really well for me, too - I had fallen behind because this particular kitchen had shared stoves and I had to wait for a spot, but once the batter was mixed and baked I assembled my cake quickly, becoming the the first person to finish the cream and strawberry layers. This was surely going to become my first big "nailed-it" day in pastry!
The chefs always make the Italian meringues for the entire class in the mixer but Chef William decided that I should learn how to do it. He pulled me over to test the syrup - it has to be 225 degrees Fahrenheit - but he wanted me to use my fingers instead of a thermometer. I had done it before - it involves dipping your fingers in ice water, grabbing some of the boiling syrup, and dipping it back in the cold water to check the texture - but it terrifies me. My fears were well-founded, too, because I was burning the dickens out of my fingers although I tried to conceal my grimace of pain from the chef. But we made the meringue and it was time to finish our cakes.
My meringue went on smoothly, I torched the top beautifully - the chef was watching and even gave a little clap and "bravo" - and the jelly glaze was perfect, but when I removed the metal ring mold, the plastic lining that protects the cream came out with it, tearing up all of my edges. The chef tried to help me hide the messy rim by putting a smaller piping tip over the one that I was using and starting a decorative edge, but when I took over the piping bag from him I made matters worse by forgetting about the second tip and knocking it out onto my cake multiple times, creating a sort of spastic edge.
The most significant happening of the week came when I received an email from the school with a link to the application for an internship and a deadline of September 22. I already knew that it was coming this semester but hardly thought that it would be so soon. My heart sank a little when the document requirements included proof of health insurance, something that I had avoided up til now. After finding some online insurance quotes and going back through my budget spreadsheets to run the numbers, the possibility of an internship still seemed feasible - tough, but feasible.
What consequently is not feasible anymore is extra travel, birthday and Christmas gifts, new clothes, vitamins, hair salons, groceries, or any other unnecessary spending. I'll have to move to another studio or rent a room when my lease ends in March - I'll need something cheaper and preferably within walking distance of wherever the school assigns me - and in the unlikely event that I can secure both cuisine and pastry internships I may have to move locations for each one. Upon the completion of the internship(s) I will come home quite literally penniless. These are the best-case scenarios - I still don't have a backup plan if I don't pass my intermediate or superior levels.
When these ulcer-forming thoughts invade my mind I have to remind myself once again that God is still in control of everything. The Israelites wandered around in the wilderness for 40 years without their shoes and clothes wearing out; surely God can see me through another six to ten months in Paris and whatever follows after that. For now (assuming that I can get health insurance before the 22nd) I'll fill out the application and request both internships, praying while I wait that God will open or close the door as He sees fit and that I'll joyfully accept His decision either way... and maybe think of non-nefarious ways to earn a little extra cash.
Tuesday
My schedule was free from Monday morning's class until Tuesday evening's class and I used my time to clean the apartment and read before heading to school. Chef Vaca, also back from vacation, led a demonstration on terrine made from langoustines (scampi) and lamb sweetbreads which, as it turns out, aren't sweet or breads at all but the thymus or throat of a lamb (I actually thought that "sweetbread" referred to the brain, so you can imagine my relief... not that we probably won't have to cross that bridge eventually).
For the main course he made red mullets served inexplicably with the head and tail still attached - because who doesn't want his dinner to look partially alive? - and stuffed with a black olive tapenade next to a savory onion royal custard (think onion-flavored flan). The fish wasn't too bad, but the custard was horrific. Aside from the fact that it was incredibly bland (Vaca even admitted that it needed more salt), it had cooled by the time that we were able to taste it which only made its custard-y texture more repulsive. Dessert was nice at least: homemade ice cream served over poached pears and chocolate sauce.
 |
| Langoustine & lamb sweetbread terrine; Red mullet with black olive tapenade and onion custard; Pears Belle-Hélène |
Wednesday
Wednesday picked up the slack from the previous two days and we were faced for the first time with two cuisine practicums on the same day. The morning began with a pastry demonstration, though, in which Chef Tranchant instructed us on how to make the Jamaica, a recipe so complex that the ingredients took up two pages. It had a sponge cake base (similar to chocolate ladyfingers) topped with coconut mousse, poached pineapples, mango-passion fruit mousse, and a passion fruit glaze.
 |
| Jamaica |
After lunch we made our way to the first cuisine practicum to make the stuffed red mullet. Chef Poupard was in charge, but another chef was with him - an American expat named Mark Singer who recently retired from Le Dodin restaurant (thanks, Google!). As in most practicums we weren't introduced to the chef and I assumed that he was in training. That assumption began to change, though, when he would stand next to me asking in a bored voice questions that I was never sure how to answer such as, "Would you eat a fish that looked like that?" or "Stop what you're about to do. What should your next logical step should be?"
He eventually followed one of his critiques sarcastically with, "But what do I know? I'm new here. I'm only the executive chef." I never even knew Le Cordon Bleu had an executive chef, but as it turned out he was the new one. Pointing to the classmate across from me, his final question was, "Why is your fish fuller than his?" After throwing out three or four guesses involving every part of the fish preparation that I could remember, I finally said, "Because his fish baked longer?" As it turned out, it was the chef's confusing way of telling me that my neighbor's fish was overcooked and mine was not.
One ongoing issue that always makes me a little crazy is that some students still don't understand that there are eight of us in our practicum, meaning that all ingredients need to be divided equally eight ways even if it's less than what the recipe calls for. On many occasions things run out before the slower students (I) can get to them, requiring that we have to "borrow" from our classmates. In this instance the black olives were gone before two or three of us got to them and they were already made into the tapenade. As a solution, we combined all of the tapenades into one and divided it among ourselves. This made the presentation of our final plates particularly entertaining because the chefs would evaluate each one differently (too much garlic, not enough salt, just right, etc.) not realizing that they were all from the same batch. Of course, when Poupard tried my tapenade he bit into a lemon seed, but protesting that I didn't actually make it seemed unwise.
Smelling of sweat and fish we joined the rest of our class in the cuisine demonstration with Chef Caals. This lesson focused on the cuisine from the Burgundy region of France where they are perhaps best known for their snails. Not to disappoint, Caals made tasty puff pastries filled with escargot and a mushroom mixture. The main course was a braised chicken and savory crapiaux (flapjacks). For dessert he made gingerbread and gingerbread ice cream, causing the whole room to smell like Christmas and making me deliriously happy.
 |
| Chicken & "crapiaux;" Puff pastry & snails; Gingerbread |
The second cuisine practicum immediately followed the demonstration and another chef, an older gentleman whom I had never seen before, led the charge. He spoke no English and gave several passionate lectures to us in French even though only two of us had even a basic grasp of what he was saying, so mostly we just nodded and said, "Oui, Chef," a lot (which doesn't always work - he gave me a rather wild-eyed stare at one point). I wasn't even sure in the end if my dish was acceptable, although I'm fairly certain that he liked my sauce.
Thursday
Though complex, I felt that the Jamaica shouldn't be too difficult. It required that we cut long strips of the sponge cake the width of our elbow spatula to line the ring mold; however, what I hadn't counted on was that my spatula was a good bit wider than the ones provided in our knife kits (I bought a new one from Dehillerin after my school-issued one was stolen). When we added the second layer of mousse which was supposed to stand above the cake rim, I realized my mistake but could do little to fix it. The good news is that Chef Olivier, the one who likes to fail me and nearly did, is on vacation for several weeks and Chef Tranchant is much more understanding.
 |
| Class Jamaicas - how they should look |
 |
| My wide-spatula version |
Class finished by 11:00 AM and our next class wasn't until 6:30 PM, so I went home and promptly fell asleep while trying to read. We came back in the evening to a cuisine demonstration again with Chef Caals. He made a fabulous chicken salad with walnuts and Granny Smith apples, a not-so-fabulous sea bream fillet wrapped in lettuce with shrimp forcemeat and a side of Jerusalem artichokes, and little puff pastry tarts filled with Mirliton batter and apricots and topped with rosemary-infused sorbet.
 |
| Chicken salad; Stuffed sea bream; Apricot & rosemary Mirliton |
Friday
The first class of the day was a pastry demonstration with Chef Tranchant at 12:30. In what I'm guessing was an effort to quell talking, the class translator called all fifty-something of us into the room one at a time and assigned us seats. I enjoyed the change, though - for the first time ever I was able to sit in the front row. Tranchant made what is probably my favorite dessert in all of our classes to date, the Fraisier - a Genoise sponge cake with a mousseline cream and lots of fresh strawberries and topped with Italian meringue.
 |
| Fraisiers |
Our first intermediate pastry theory class immediately followed the demonstration. Tranchant gave us a brief lesson on chocolate - where it comes from, how cocoa powder and cocoa butter are made, what the types of chocolate are - and then took us through the process of tempering chocolate for decorations, a skill that will likely end up as the technical portion of our final exam. He ended the class by showing us how to write with the chocolate, something that we'll be putting into practice next week on our Opera cakes.
From the theory class we headed to our evening cuisine practicum to make the stuffed sea bream fillets. Another new and nameless chef was in charge, but he soon became my favorite chef ever. Aside from the fact that his voice sounded like Alan Rickman with a French accent, he was incredibly laid-back and calm or as some might say, "chill." He peeled the garlic, ginger, and shallots, setting them aside in a bowl for everyone, and even when he was critical he was likable. When I finished way last because I forgot to boil my lettuce leaves and then overcooked them and had to do them again, he never yelled or told me to hurry and he stated that my fish was "perfect." To top it all off, while I was cleaning up my utensils he scrubbed down my stove for me. That's the joy of a new chef - he's not cranky, tired, and irritated with all of us yet.
Saturday
We had only one morning class before we were officially finished for the weekend. Most of us were pretty excited about the Fraisier, stating that it was the one dessert that we wouldn't be giving away or storing in the freezer. This dessert was going really well for me, too - I had fallen behind because this particular kitchen had shared stoves and I had to wait for a spot, but once the batter was mixed and baked I assembled my cake quickly, becoming the the first person to finish the cream and strawberry layers. This was surely going to become my first big "nailed-it" day in pastry!
The chefs always make the Italian meringues for the entire class in the mixer but Chef William decided that I should learn how to do it. He pulled me over to test the syrup - it has to be 225 degrees Fahrenheit - but he wanted me to use my fingers instead of a thermometer. I had done it before - it involves dipping your fingers in ice water, grabbing some of the boiling syrup, and dipping it back in the cold water to check the texture - but it terrifies me. My fears were well-founded, too, because I was burning the dickens out of my fingers although I tried to conceal my grimace of pain from the chef. But we made the meringue and it was time to finish our cakes.
My meringue went on smoothly, I torched the top beautifully - the chef was watching and even gave a little clap and "bravo" - and the jelly glaze was perfect, but when I removed the metal ring mold, the plastic lining that protects the cream came out with it, tearing up all of my edges. The chef tried to help me hide the messy rim by putting a smaller piping tip over the one that I was using and starting a decorative edge, but when I took over the piping bag from him I made matters worse by forgetting about the second tip and knocking it out onto my cake multiple times, creating a sort of spastic edge.
 |
| Class Fraisiers |
 |
| My post-apocalyptic Fraisier (but check out that center torching job!) |
The most significant happening of the week came when I received an email from the school with a link to the application for an internship and a deadline of September 22. I already knew that it was coming this semester but hardly thought that it would be so soon. My heart sank a little when the document requirements included proof of health insurance, something that I had avoided up til now. After finding some online insurance quotes and going back through my budget spreadsheets to run the numbers, the possibility of an internship still seemed feasible - tough, but feasible.
What consequently is not feasible anymore is extra travel, birthday and Christmas gifts, new clothes, vitamins, hair salons, groceries, or any other unnecessary spending. I'll have to move to another studio or rent a room when my lease ends in March - I'll need something cheaper and preferably within walking distance of wherever the school assigns me - and in the unlikely event that I can secure both cuisine and pastry internships I may have to move locations for each one. Upon the completion of the internship(s) I will come home quite literally penniless. These are the best-case scenarios - I still don't have a backup plan if I don't pass my intermediate or superior levels.
When these ulcer-forming thoughts invade my mind I have to remind myself once again that God is still in control of everything. The Israelites wandered around in the wilderness for 40 years without their shoes and clothes wearing out; surely God can see me through another six to ten months in Paris and whatever follows after that. For now (assuming that I can get health insurance before the 22nd) I'll fill out the application and request both internships, praying while I wait that God will open or close the door as He sees fit and that I'll joyfully accept His decision either way... and maybe think of non-nefarious ways to earn a little extra cash.
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