For all the cooking I do, and all the thinking about cooking, I’ve never once worked in the food-service industry. I have a ton of restaurant experience, but none on the other side of the menu. So today, I started a three-day intensive cooking class at a nearby vegan restaurant.
This class provides a second opportunity: we’ll be cooking for the public. And really it is a bigger deal than even that, for this restaurant is closed during the winter except for a handful of special-event meals; my class of six student “guest chefs” will be preparing the restaurant’s Mardi Gras dinner, the one meal the restaurant will serve this month. The owner expects 70 guests, including four VIPs. No pressure!
After just one class, I now have “knife technique.” Sure, it may not be very good, but at least I have one. I also have two hand’s worth of abused knuckles and a raw spot on the side of my index finger from chopping approximately 500 vegetables. (OK, well, probably it was more like 30 vegetables. A lot, anyway.)
Tonight’s session used a learn-as-you-go format; the class offers little formal instruction but lots of hands-on experience. The chefs identified the half-dozen items that could be prepared two days before service — dressings, sauces, stock — and assigned students to each. I made 4 gallons of stock. I was working without a net, but I guess it’s hard to ruin a pot of simmering vegetables. If they ask me to make another 4 gallons tomorrow, I guess I’ll know the verdict on the first batch.
At the end of the class, we ate dinner. This was a highlight; we had a Thai carrot bisque that was among the best soups I’ve ever eaten. The story of the soup is a testament to the knowledge of an experienced chef, and the power of a good recipe: someone requested that we have soup for dinner, so the chef scribbled a recipe from memory, scaling it as she wrote, and the result — as executed by two students who had never made it before — was spectacular.
[Read part II, soup from concentrate]