It is almost at the end of the fall trimester here at Johnson and Wales, and I can’t believe how fast the past three months have been going! Taking online classes is so different and a bit difficult for me. I just try to keep a positive attitude that the more difficult the class is, the more I will retain in the end. Well, let’s at least hope that’s the way it goes!

The past few weeks in my Human Resources class we have been talking about behavior in the workplace and specifically sexual harassment and how to handle it as a potential boss and manager. Each week we are asked to take part in ‘discussions’ online. These are forum-setting discussions for each specific topic and are there to take the place of in class participation points.

We were asked about how we would handle an employee coming up to us as the manager and filing a complaint about another employee about sexual harassment. Everyone shared various stories or their thoughts on the subject; I can say I was honestly amazed about some of the responses.

The class was split, about half of the students were very much for a zero tolerance policy in the work place and the other half, well, was not. One student in particular thought that if the victim did not want to press charges then he would move the victim to another department, almost like a demotion for being harassed! Another student thought that any verbal comments or other behavior that did not go beyond touching or physically hurting someone was okay, “because that’s just what happens in a kitchen”.

I personally think that this is completely unacceptable and it shocks me that today people my own age would believe such things. Just because the food service industry has a history of being sexist and having a high tolerance of harassment does not mean that this is still acceptable today. No one should ever have to feel uncomfortable in their work place, regardless of the reason.

As a woman in the food service industry that has worked with others that thought that making sexual comments or other innapropirate behavior was acceptable, I have always stood up for myself and others. I would not and will not allow any type of harassment to occur or be accepted in my business or any other place that I work, and I encourage you to take the same stance.

Finally. Eleven weeks into the semester. We did something I’ve never done before in my life. We scaled and filleted a whole fish. I was on cloud nine, ten and eleven.

The menu:
Potato and Leek Soup (pureed soup, thickening method)
Salmon en Papillote with vegetables julienne and couscous (parchment technique, filleting, knife skills)

Some students had to leave - they were thoroughly disgusted, gagging. But the fish guts didn’t seem to bother me. I was more interested in how this beautiful thing was about to be deconstructed. 

Chef went over signs of freshness (and decomposition) — more nuggets of knowledge I had been craving for weeks. And showed us how to scale, fillet, skin, and portion the fish — salmon in this case.

Sigh. I wish every class could be this exciting and full of great information.

And three seems to be the magic number. We’ve experienced the group without Cool Girl, and we’ve experienced the group without Know-it-All Girl. It didn’t matter who was absent; our group functioned better with three rather than four in each case. We had more room, and less opinions.

Next week we focus on stocks and sauces. I’m hoping we go deeper into the mother sauces and small sauces — we’ve only briefly touched on a few.

Only five weeks left to the semester. I’m torn about what to focus on for spring term. I’m only able to take one or two classes each semester…I’m thinking about Classical Cuisine, along with the competition class, where Chef will kick my butt into honing my cooking skills.

I was in the grocery store earlier this week, buying the usual things, and also on the lookout for fall recipe inspiration; I wanted to take some Halloween/fall photos of gourmet caramel apples, and experiment with my new candy thermometer a little bit. Next to the apples I found the most beautiful petite pears - no larger than my thumb. I pictured them drenched in thick caramel with bits of chopped candied pumpkin seeds and dusted with spice. I bagged about six of them, along with a few McIntosh apples.

Checkout Girl: I heard these pears are sweeter than the big ones. Is that true?
Me: I’m not sure. I’m buying just to take photos of them.
Checkout Girl: OK, I have to ask. What do you do that you need to take photos of food?

I hesitated. Paused. I wasn’t sure how to answer. I wasn’t sure how to explain my career change from design and marketing to food, and I wasn’t sure I felt confident enough to say it out loud.

“Oh, I’m a food writer,” I casually said while unloading the cart.

“Ha,” I thought to myself. “I’m a food writer. Cool.”

After the groceries were put away, I sat at the kitchen table and thought for a minute or two. I’m a food writer, and yeah, that’s neat. But I’m an unemployed food writer. I’m writing, but I’m not really being paid for my writing, which sort of makes me unemployed. And my paying job will end very soon with a layoff.

Needless to say, I was excited to be offered a phone interview with the directing editor of a major publishing company in Alabama, y’all, looking for a food editor. Our interview was today, and we had a great conversation — I told my food stories, we laughed, I talked about my journey, my experience, my passion.

And then came the big question: So, you’re looking to relocate to Alabama? Er, um, no. “Is telecommunting an option?” The answer was unfortuantely, “No.” They needed someone in house to manage a team, test recipes, etc. My dream job. Sigh.

I asked her to keep me in mind for any freelance work, and will follow up later today with a thank you and a few additional writing samples we discussed during the interview.

It was wonderful speaking with her, but I’m wondering now — will we, should we move for the sake of work? My dream job doesn’t seem to be anywhere near Orlando.

At the end of the last block of classes, after we had finished Basic and Classical Cakes, my group of baking and pastry students took our 2nd Term Practical Exam, of which we had been terrified for many months. This is the test that evaluates the baking and pastry students’ competence at the basics: pate a choux, pastry cream, tempering chocolate, sponge cake, Italian buttercream, working with fondant, puff pastry–in short, what we should know how to do before the CIA trusts us not to embarass ourselves during our externships out in the industry. More importantly, this test evaluates our speed and accuracy under pressure. By the time you reach the 2nd term practical, you know how to do all of the above. The real question is can you do it with a clock ticking? Can you do it even when something goes wrong? Can you do it when your externship is riding on it?

We had 2 days, with 3 hours of production time for each day. On Day 1 my plan was to make my puff, bake my sponge cakes, make pate a choux and bake my eclairs, cook my pastry cream, make Italian buttercream, and make tempered chocolate decor pieces for my finished cake. Yes, all of that in 3 hours. If you are a full-fledged pastry chef reading this, that might not sound like such a big deal. But for us, it was a very big deal indeed. And I made it through everything!

Sort of. Not really.

Yes, I got through everything, but my pastry cream and my tempered chocolate did not work. I’d made pastry cream probably 8 or 9 times and tempered chocolate probably 4 or 5–and this, of course, was the first time either of them had been a problem for me. Because this was The Practical, and that’s just how life goes.

When my pastry cream looked separated, and my chocolate refused to do anything I wanted it to, I took a deep breath and moved on to the next thing, deciding I would worry about it later. Later meant Day 2.

On Day 2, I baked like lightning–faster than I’ve ever baked before, and faster than I knew I could bake. I drew up a brand new timeline that looked totally impossible to me. In those three hours I would have to remake my pastry cream, redo my chocolate, fill and glaze eclairs, bake a puff pastry apple strip (a kind of rectangular tart), and assemble and decorate a cake. I still don’t remember how I did it except that I never looked at the clock. I didn’t have time to worry about time! I just moved as fast as I possibly could and didn’t waste a thought on how I was doing or whether I would finish. I didn’t even care whether I would finish because I didn’t think I would. I cared about getting as far as I could. If I was going to fail, I was going to fail trying.

But I didn’t fail. I finished. Out of the 14 people in my group, 5 of us passed, and I was fortunate enough to be one of them. Yes, only 5 out of 14–the grading criteria for these products are that high. I do feel that I earned my grade because I prepared myself as well as I possibly could for this exam. At the same time, preparation isn’t everything (although the CIA’s motto claims the contrary). When the unexpected happens, as it inevitably does, I have learned how to take my mind off what’s wrong and focus all my energy on how to recover from it–and I think that might be the most important thing the CIA has taught me yet.

I can’t even remember what we made in class last week - it was that uneventful. And this week, we made appetizers. Strike that. We didn’t make, but rather, rushed through appetizers. What a mess.

What I do remember is that I did not learn anything new between last week and this week, except how to turn on the gas grill, which disappoints me.

Chef tasked our team to make these awful snail appetizers with goat cheese in puff pastry, with little direction or help. We waited…and waited…and waited for him to come to our station and provide the recipe he promised. “Chef,” we called out several times. “We’re ready for you - what’s the next step; you said dice…what size? How much cheese? Where does the snail go? How big do you want the circle of puff pastry? Do you want the herbs rough chopped or finely chopped?

Yeah, we could have made it up as we went along or tried to figure it out. But, we’ve gotten in trouble with Chef when we’ve tried to do that in the past. And at my age, I have no patience for being called a kitchen idiot, when I could have done perfectly fine with a recipe and some direction.

Cool Girl has mellowed out a bit since her temper tantrum in class a couple of weeks ago, which has been a nice change of pace. And the other girl in our group - I don’t even know what to call her, her personality is so complex, and not in a good way - she stream rolled over many of us this week as a peanut sauce know-it-all (who didn’t really know it all). This week I’ll call her Steamroller.

The group next to us asked me how they could thin out and rescue their peanut sauce, which can only be described as having the appearance of seized chocolate. I suggested chicken broth or stock, which would thin it out, without diluting the flavor like water might. And then the Steamroller came on through without a warning: “Add corn syrup - it will thin it out and make it sweet. I do it all the time!”

I crinkled my nose and mouth in such a way that said, “You’re crazy,” to Steam roller, and “Don’t do it,” to the group next to us. I repeated the chicken broth suggestion, and if I had been standing on the same side of the prep table as Steamroller, I would have been knocked clear out of the way as she muscled her way closer to the group and took over the conversation.

I shrugged my shoulders as the other group looked at me with confused faces, and continued chopping herbs.

Later Chef came by and told them to use coconut milk - corn syrup was not the answer unless they wanted to make peanut butter balls.

So, this is the drama I experience every week. Sometimes it’s entertaining. Other times it’s downright frustrating. This week though, I didn’t seem to care - I had no reaction either way to what was going on around me.

I think I’ve hit my mid-semester slump. And I think it’s because I’m kind of bored. Like with my baking class last semester, I’m desperate for those secret nuggets of cooking knowledge — the tips and tricks of the trade. And I’m not getting them. I know how to make stock, I know how to make appetizers and bake chickens and pan sear, roast, fry, bake.

I need to practice my knife skills and sauces and plating techniques (ironically, I have a degree in art and have the hardest time making a pretty plate). Hopefully we’ll get to some of that soon.

How do you all stay motivated in class? What have you done to get through the mid-semester slump?

I can’t believe that it’s almost Halloween.  Just today the neighbors set up about 8 carved pumpkins on the front door step.  The Halloween costume stores are littered about town and Target’s Halloween area is slowly become sparse.  I love Halloween, passing out candy to the kids and dressing up and going to a fun party with my friends.  But, there is another part of Halloween and after that I love and that is the taste of fresh pumpkins.

I see magazines like Gourmet and Food and Wine and see recipes of unique and sometimes strange things to do with pumpkin, but personally I love just a traditional amazing pumpkin pie.  Some don’t know just how easy it is to make a pumpkin pie from scratch, but believe me just a few minutes of added time makes a huge difference.

Squishing the Squash
First select a pumpkin, a small sweet or pie pumpkin is best, but just about any pumpkin will work but will have different tastes.  If you can’t get your hands on a pie pumpkin or have an unknown type of pumpkin growing out of your compost bin the the backyard (go look, its still on the vine in my backyard!), simply give it a taste after you cook it and add a small amount of sugar accordingly.

The first part is to cook and soften the squash.  Simply cut in half, scoop out the seeds, and cover with a few tables spoons of water.  Cook on high in the microwave for about 15 minutes or cook in the oven at 350-375 until fork tender.  Let cool outside of the container and out of any water or juices.  Peel out from the skin and mash up.  Next, mix in a blender or food processor to smooth.  If you do not have a mixer or blender you can use a mixer or potato masher for a good few minutes, it will not be a smooth but it will help.  Now, you are ready to use your pumpkin like you would the preservative-ridden puree in the can.

Warm Up
The next step in making the perfect pie is to make yourself a great cup of coffee.  In a large mug add cream, sugar, and a tablespoon or so of your pumpkin puree.  Add the hot coffee and whisk up until combined and presto! you have a cheap and delicious cup of pumpkin ‘latte’ that is infinitely better than one from Starbucks.  Drink while making your pie, repeat when your mug is empty.  If your cooking late at night try adding a little bit of coffee liqueur for a delicious night cap.

Next, prepare your crust.  Personally I recommend a scratch-made crust but a Pillsbury premade dough will do.  Roll it out to an even 1/4 in and place in a glass pie dish, cut off any excess and then push the edges down a bit.  Crimp them how you like but I like to make mine a bit different which will be explained later.  The extra dough should not be balled up or kneaded, simply cover with plastic and put it to the side.

Spicy Time
First, preheat the oven to 375F.  Next gather a large mixing bowl and a whisk, don’t forget your pumpkin puree.  Add 2 cups pumpkin and 2/3 cups of brown sugar to your bowl and mix thoroughly.  Next, slowly add 2 eggs, one at a time making sure the mix is smooth.  Next, add 1 Tablespoons cinnamon, and a teaspoon of each nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.  Personally, I love a nice, sort of spicy pie so I double the cinnamon and keep the others the same.  Finally mix 2 tablespoons of melted butter and 1 1/4 cups of half and half, then add to the pumpkin mix.  Make sure the mixture is smooth and even then carefully pour into the pie shell.

A Pretty Pie
Now here comes your time to be an artist and wow your friends and family with this easy trick.  Anyone can make a wavy crimped edge, so try a cut-out edge.  I like to use a leaf-shapped punch that is typically used for fondant and gum paste.  Roll the crust to a 1/4″ thickness, and simply cut out the shape. Any shape of cutter, punch, or even free hand with a knife will work. You can use any shape to fit the type of pie or the occasion, but try to stick to a shape that is no larger than a 50 cent piece.  Too large of a shape will sink into the pie because it is so thin.  Paint on a little milk to the bottom crust and artfully lay on your cut-outs.  Brush the tops with milk again and sprinkle on sugar or even better rock sugar.

Place in the oven and bake until the filling is set but not dry and the crust is golden brown.  Allow to partially cool slowly at room temperature and then place in the refrigerator.  Finally, enjoy with a dollop of homemade whipped cream (heavy cream, sugar, and a little vanilla) and don’t forget another cup of that great pumpkin coffee.

I’ve heard restaurant chefs say it a million times during interviews: what works on the job, doesn’t always work at home. They have favorite dishes they create in the restaurant, but because of the equipment available at the restaurant, they can never duplicate the dish the same way at home.

That was true for me this week, when I tried to make pasta for the first time — you can read about the I Love Lucy episode we created in our kitchen, on my blog. (which, BTW, is a Chef2Chef top 100 food blog - vote 5-hats for Wicked Good Dinner, pretty please.)

The pasta was really the first recipe from school that I’ve tried at home. All of the other techniques — dry and moist cooking methods, rouxs, sauces, etc., I’ve made a million times at home, successfully. Ironically though, they never turn out as well at school.

I’m learning that it all comes down to equipment and how familiar you are with that equipment. I know my home stove and oven very well. But the school’s induction stove tops and temperamental ovens and I are just starting to get to know each other, and I’ve had to rescue many fonds on the brink of burning.

I’m confident by semester’s end, I’ll get the hang of it and can rock my level 2 classes. 

If you have not heard about this year’s flu season and the rising number of people who have contracted the swine flu (or H1N1), then you might be living under a rock. We all know the importance of sneezing into your elbow, staying home when you are sick, and making sure to religiously wash your hands, regardless of your health. But I think its all too easy to get into a lazy habit when it comes to food safety and sanitation, especially in a classroom.

While I am currently still at home in Michigan and will not be starting another lab until next trimester, I still have my share of memories of students doing some pretty revolting things. So, in spirit of everyone staying healthy here are some stories of what not to do when cooking.

30 Minute Rule
It was in the middle of ‘pie month’ during my Hot and Cold desserts class. Most of us has made enough pie dough to last for the rest of our lives, so for that portion of the class our teacher would wander the halls. Everyone at my table, including myself, would mindlessly make pie crust, then wrap it up and put it in the fridge for later use that day. This was common at most tables on most days, with the exception of the table directly behind ours which I could easily see. On this day, the one lone male student in our class was having trouble with the crust as usual. He promptly dropped his entire ball of dough and it rolled under his table about 30 feet and stopped under the oven. He could not see it but I easily could. He quickly looked around nervously to make sure no one saw him and tried to coolly look for the dough. He couldn’t find it, and I did not have the heart to embarrass the poor kid more and did not say anything.

He preceded to make a new dough but forgot a key ingredient…ice water…and it did not turn out right. So, after about a half hour of him messing around he finally bent down to pick up his notebook and saw the original ball of dough. He quickly picked up the now melting ball of dough, mashed it around a few times. dirt and all, then wrapped it up and placed it in the fridge. No one else seemed to notice his unevenly rolled out dough that looked more like marble and thankfully turned into carbon in the oven. During a conversation weeks later I confessed that I had watched him the whole time. He blushed and tried to play it off like he burned the 12 pies on purpose because he knew they were not good to eat. Sure.

I’m Not Sick
At Johnson and Wales, when you are in Baking and Pastry labs you are only allowed 3 missed days, on the fourth day you will be dropped from the class. Also, most teachers take points off if you are absent. Because of this, most students, myself included, try to tough it out during class if you are sick versus taking the day off.

During the same class of Hot and Cold desserts, a friend of mine came in with a very bad cold. When she shuffled in you could easily see her puffy sagging eyes and unpressed uniform. She was carrying a handkerchief and kept sniffling. I felt terrible for her. I know she is the type of person that is never late, never misses class, and always gets great grades. She spent most of the day in and out of the bathroom, coughing and blowing her nose. The chef was concerned but my friend kept on saying that she was not sick and would not go home, even though she probably should have.

All of our hands were covered with food as we were making various cookies by hand. It was obvious that both of her hands were dirty as I heard a sneeze and saw her standing with her hands out and apart like she was going to hug someone. Everyone stopped and turned to stare as she sneezed a good 8 times in a row, onto 3 full sheet pans of perfectly rolled cookies. She never once turned her head, sneezed into her arms, or ran to another part of the kitchen. She just keep sneezing again and again on the cookies. Thankfully all 3 trays of cookies were tossed, but I am pretty sure her neighbors cookies made it in. Ew.

Berry Juice?
I still cannot get this picture out of my head. During Classical French Pastries class we were all working on our various products, some were mixing, some scaling, and some chopping up nuts and fruits. The same clumsy lone male from above was chopping nuts at the table next to me. I could hear him showing off for a pretty girl at his table, chopping loudly with one hand on the knife and the other on the food like he was trying to hack up fire-wood.

I stopped when I heard a loud gasp and near scream from the pretty girl at his table. He wasn’t paying attention and accidentally chopped off 2 of his fingertips! They lay on the wooden cutting board, blood all over a large pile of strawberries he had just cut.

I have this natural nurse part of me, so while everyone was running around with their heads chopped off, I helped the poor kid out and wrapped up his hand. The school nurse and a team of paramedics took him off with his fingertips in a little bowl of ice, leaving behind his cutting board along with the mound of strawberries. After the room calmed down, I saw someone at his table swiftly pick up his cutting board and using the back of the knife swipe down the board and plop the berries and “berry juice” into a sauce pan filled with jam.

I quickly stopped the girl and made her throw it out, explaining that there was blood in it. She rolled her eyes and complained about having to re-do the entire batch. Well, at least it was minus the human element.

Hopefully these and any other unhealthy sanitation practices do not happen on a regular basis. I try to think that every restaurant that I eat at follows sanitation rules to a ‘T’. I hope you don’t get sick this flu season, and especially not in any of the ways above.

Fingres crossed the stress I’ve experienced over the last few months will count towards “paying my dues” in the industry as I make my way through culinary school and figure out the next phase of my career.

To recap, culinary school is something I’ve always wanted to do. I went to art school instead, worked in marketing as a creative director for the last 18 years, and through a series of weird and wonderful events while working at Disney, found myself on the culinary path I longed for when I was a senior in high school.

I loved (past tense) my marketing job and had visions of making Disney my home forever and ever, earning my 5 year pin, 15 year pin, and so on. But, with the recent org changes, my position will be repurposed in December/January, which leaves me with the following decision: stay in marketing, or go into culinary.

I choose culinary. I think.

The pay stinks. And it would indeed be a sacrifice to take such a significant pay cut, not only for me, but my entire family. My family seems to be OK with that though, which I find wonderful and curious at the same time. I’ve learned over the past eight months that I do not want to be a restaurant chef long-term; although I do recognize I need that experience.

I love writing about food, photographing and filming food, and teaching others how to cook food. And I think I’m leaning more towards a private chef/cooking instructor role for me, writing cookbooks, articles, filming how-to’s, and teaching people how to cook at their home or business.

There aren’t a whole lot of cooking classes or instructor roles in the Orlando area, which means I would have to start my own business.

Breaking new ground, even the state of Florida doesn’t know how I would start this type of business. Because the cooking would be done on location, none of the typical permits apply. I called the agriculture division who handles food safety and regulations, and they couldn’t help. I tried the restaurant and hospitality division and they weren’t the right office either; they recommended I try my county for an occupational license. Even though there are no official laws governing this type of business, common sense is telling me that I should (1) get my state food manager certification (2) pay for a mobile cart/vendor license and (3) apply for a sole proprietorship.

Your advice needed:
Are there any readers out there who teach private cooking lessons and offer cooking demos? If yes, I’d love your advice on next steps, what to expect, things you didn’t learn until you got started, etc.

Today was the first day I did not enjoy class. Everyone, everything was off. Classmates were cranky, four people burned themselves (one severely), and the atmosphere was full of tension.

The menu:
Coq au vin (braising)
Rice pilaf (pilaf technique)
Grilled vegetable stack (grilling)
Caesar salad in parmesan cups (plating techniques)

Chef asked our group to make dinner for all of the chefs teaching this afternoon. We made two pots of coq au vin, and I was assigned to make the one for the chefs - quite an honor and quite a lot of pressure; I had never made it before.

As usual, our biggest challenge this week was people management. I prefer to huddle with the group, read the recipes together, and then divide the ingredients, mise and tasks. Instead, Cool Girl grabs a recipe and goes to the walk-in for a few carrots, maybe an onion, brings them to our station, and goes back for herbs, brings them back and then leaves again for celery. I know she's trying to be helpful, but her lack of organization slows us down; and her lack of basic cooking skills puts us behind every week.

Cool Girl is taking our class as a requirement for another hospitality major, from another school. She hasn't taken food and bev. management, food safety or baking I (all prerequisites for our class), and as our menus become more complicated, she falls further behind, pulling us down with her.

I have a passion for teaching, but I'm also trying to learn. Having to stop to show Cool Girl how to dice an onion for the fifth time is robbing the rest of our group of much needed practice with knife skills and perfecting the basics.

Our group, minus Cool Girl, had an impromptu meeting in the dish room, full of whispers and half finished sentences. None of us had to complete our thoughts out loud - we were all thinking the same thing: Cool Girl has to step up her game or get out of our group.

Ironically, at the end of class, Cool Girl had a temper tantrum in front of Chef, berating him for her lack of organization and inability to learn the material every week, "You give us so much information, I never know what to study." Then she threw me under the bus, calling me a kiss-up for my knowledge of cooking. Me, the person who patiently took the time to show her how to dice a onion (among other things) every week, every which way.

After she left, Quiet Guy and I gave a nod - we didn't need to speak a word. And out it came, "Chef, she's holding us back…"

Chef warned us there could be major drama next week when he pulls her out of our group. I can't imagine there being any more drama than this week. I think I may bring some popcorn.

Oh, and the coq au vin. Chef said my coq au vin was excellent; Chef's assistant said it was the best he ever had. This was a huge relief and, I admit, I liked hearing it. It's not often we receive accolades in class from Chef, so it's a big deal. And if Cool Girl thinks that pushing yourself to do your absolute best, practicing, studying night and day, and learning as much as possible makes someone a kiss-up, I'll be bringing some strawberry lip-gloss to class next week.