Score One For Sanity

Remember how before the holidays I said that it was becoming increasingly obvious that my sanity was waning, and I needed a break?  Well, I was right.  The two week break did me wonders; I came back refreshed and kicked insanity's ***, like I said I was going to do.  How do I know that?  For one, I can complete sentences again and have regained every day skills like counting.  Yet, I knew the leap back to sanity was complete when Chef deemed my rack of lamb and accompanying "veg" perfectly cooked on the first day back in the kitchen.  Believe me, I let out a huge sigh of relief when I heard him say, "Parfait" after presenting my plate to him.  My transformation back into a functioning human being was complete.

Here are some pics from Tuesday's class where we cooked Carre d'Agneau Persillé - Parsleyed (if that is actually a word) Rack of Lamb.

Chef didn't have to tell us that "we have ze lucky" to be able to each have two racks of lamb to cook.  We all knew that that doesn't happen at most cooking schools. 

Taking off the excess fat.

Trimming fat and meat from the bones for nice presentation.

Popping the joints open so that the bottom can be deboned properly.  This is possibly one of the most time consuming and frustrating tasks we have had to date.  If I never have to debone a rack of lamb again, it will still be too soon.

Here are my two pieces of lamb - cleaned, deboned and ready to be cooked.

We seared them in a skillet and then popped them in the oven until rosé - rare.

Next, parsley and other herbs were blended with breadcrumbs.  Room temp butter was added to that mixture until smooth.

Then put in a plastic bag and rolled until only 3 mm thick (there goes that metric system again) and put in the blas freezer.  Side note: Chef calls the blast freezer a chilly freezer and thus everyone else does, myself included.  Just a quick example of  how I speak a very distorted version of English every day. 

After the "chilly freezer," we cut the herb butter mixture and placed it on top of the lamb.  It was then put under the salamander, which you probably call a broiler.  See what I mean?  Distorted English.

Finished product.  As you can see, along the way, I turned a few "veg" as well. 

Shots of Paris

Although this city is so gorgeous, right now it so so unbelievably cold that I have to just put my head down and walk as quickly as I can wherever I go.  So, I needed a little reminder of just how beautiful Paris is and consequently just how lucky I am to live here.  Thought I would share with you...

Palmiers

Here are the photos showing how to make the Palmiers from Pastry class yesterday. For the flaky, ear looking cookies we used a third type of puff pastry called feuillete rapide. It is a quicker version of the regular puff pastry dough which takes a while to make.

Starting ingredients.

Butter was "beaten" as usual and then cut into small pieces.

And mixed with the flour until a ball was formed.

Next, it is rolled out.

And the turning process begins.

Once turned four times with the aid of flour, the dough was ready for the sugar turning.

Which happens to involve a freakishly large amount of sugar (but that is why Palmiers are so good!).

Rolling/turning the dough with sugar.

Shaping the dough for the Palmiers.

If you have time, freeze or refrigerate the dough for a few minutes.  This makes it easier to slice the cookies.

Sliced and ready to bake.

Hot out of the oven!  Yum.

Easing Back Into Things: Puff Pastry Style

The Pastry gods were looking down on me yesterday.  After such a grueling trip back to France, they decided to grace me with the delicious task of making Palmiers and Galette des Rois on my first day back, both of which are made from puff pastry - my favorite.

Galette des Rois is a King Cake that is made each year on January 6th to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany.  It is a huge round puff pastry cake stuffed with almond and pastry cream.  Doesn't sound too shabby now does it?  Fit for a king I guess.  However, I prefer the King Cakes made in Louisiana for Mardi Gras, but I guess I might be a bit biased. 

It is obvious, though, that the modern Mardi Gras King Cake has its origins in the traditional French King Cake.  They are both made only once a year for a specific occasion, and they both contain a little surprise that is baked into the cake. Everyone wants to be the person who gets the piece of cake with the surprise baked in it.  Of course in France, the surprise, called une feve, is a beautiful porcelain trinket that could be an Eiffel Tower, a Fleur de Lis, or even a soccer ball.  In Louisiana, on the other hand, it's always a plastic baby (which had never seemed odd to me until I just wrote that sentence). 

Galette des Rois

Starting ingredients for the inverse puff pastry.

Sift flour, make a well and add water and salt.

Mix.

After mixing the water with some flour, add the melted butter.

And combine to make the dough.  Rest in the fridge 15 minutes.

Start the beurre manie which will surround the puff pastry dough that is resting.  This is why it is called inverse puff pastry because the butter is on the outside of the dough not the inside.

Beurre manie is mixed and will also rest in the fridge.

Then, both are rolled out and the first dough is placed on top of the beurre manie.

Let the turning begin.

Rolling out the dough after the first turn.

Making a double turn.

While the dough rests, make almond paste and pastry cream and blend together.

After another set of turns, divide dough into four.

With each fourth, place two opposite corners together.

Followed by the other two corners.

Flip over and roll into a ball.

Then roll it out into a circle.

Ring the circle with egg wash.

Place the almond and pastry cream mixture in the center.

And top with another circle of the pastry dough.

Make the edges pretty.

Cover with egg wash and rest in the fridge a few minutes.

Chef showing us how to decorate the cake.

My two decorating attempts.

Into the oven they go.

Until golden brown.  Then brush with simple syrup.

Et volia!

When we all were given a piece of the cake, guess who got the feve...

I did and it was an Eiffel Tower.

King and Queen of Pastry for the day!

Flying the "Friendly" Skies

For a girl who adores Paris and loves to cook, getting on a plane and heading back to culinary school in France after spending two weeks at home with my husband and family was harder than you might think.  While I was excited to continue living in Paris, finish Ferrandi's program, and start my stage at a restaurant, all of that was shaded a bit grey by the fact that my husband would not be able to return permanently to Paris with me.  Pourquoi?  Well, it's that pesky little thing called a business that he has to run and considering the fact that I certainly deem myself on the spending end of the spectrum as far as money goes, to my chagrin he has stay in the states and work. 

Trying desperately not to cry, I put on a brave face, took a deep breath, and boarded the plane which was headed first to Frankfurt and then to Paris.  Or at least, that is how it was supposed to go.  What followed was perhaps the worst possible 24 hours of my life spent traveling.  After semi-smooth sailing over the Altantic (as long as you consider semi-smooth an elderly Indian woman wearing no shoes yelling at me in Hindu from time to time and an old man shooting me the evil eye when I tripped over his cane that happened to be in the middle of the aisle), I noticed that we seemed to be flying in circles and were not landing in Frankfurt.  Just then, the pilot announced that yes, we were indeed flying in circles because of a snow storm in Frankfurt.  We were now extremely low on fuel and the airport had closed.  So, we were heading to Stuttgart instead.  In Stuttgart, we had the pleasure of staying on the plane until things got better in Frankfurt.  How long would that be?  They didn't know and I certainly didn't think it would be the 4 hours it turned out to be.  Apparently, neither did the airline since all they had to pass out to the passengers was Toblerone candy bars.

Finally landing in Frankfurt, I mistakenly thought there would be some sort of order when we deplaned.  You know, someone who meets you at the gate and tells you where to go and what to do since you have undoubtedly missed your connection.  Man, was I wrong!  Instead, mass chaos reigned wherever I went, lines hundreds of yards long were forming, I saw one woman faint, others yelling in all kinds of languages, and each person I asked for help had no idea what I should do.  After being shuffled to three different lines and being told that I could not be helped in each one, I was sent to two more lines where they attempted to help.  Finally, I was put on standby and given what looked not unlike a random piece of paper with my name on it, the word standby and a hand written gate number.  Fearing that this was not exactly a sufficient boarding pass, I attempted (no lie) 3-4 more times to speak with an airline employee in order to confirm that I was definitely going to get out of Frankfurt alive that day.  Well, NO ONE WAS HELPFUL, in fact they were downright rude (and I told them that).

Sensing that I was on the verge of going crazy, I decided to get myself something to eat since I was starving.  I sauntered up to a German sausage/hot dog stand that had been tempting me with its delicious aroma every since I had entered the airport and stood in 8 different lines. Just as I was ordering my German hot dog, I was told they were closed. CLOSED! It was 2 pm. People were everywhere. They had tons of hot dogs. It made zero sense and it quickly became the straw that broke the camel's back.

Enter breakdown.

Exhausted after not sleeping at all on what had become close to a 16 hour flight, ravenous after only have eaten some toblerone in the past several hours, stuck in a crowded airport with mean employees and the prospect of not leaving there at all, I just couldn't handle it anymore.   Tears came and the irrational thoughts of a sleep deprived, starving woman who missed her husband turned into "I hate it here.  I just want to go home.  Etc."  I'm sure you can imagine it. I lost it right there in the middle of Terminal 1 outside gate A22 in Frankfurt.  I doubt anyone noticed, though, because the place was an absolute cluster of confusion and mounting passenger anger.  After allowing myself a few minutes to wallow in my self-pity and frustration, I realized I was being just a bit irrational, took another deep breath, and decided going back to the States was a bit dramatic.

Luckily not too much later I found out that the random piece of paper I had been given was indeed valid (after finally being able to speak with someone who had both a heart and a brain).  I was on standby for a later flight out of Frankfurt and by the grace of God, I was the last standby passenger that they let on the plane. 

So, almost 24 hours after I headed to the airport in Dallas, I was on my way to our tiny little apartment in Paris.  And boy was I glad to see it.