Fishy Situation

Day 12

I've never had a fish dish prepared a la meuniere, but now I know why Julia Child fell in love with it at first bite. I sure did.

It tasted especially good since blood, sweat and tears were expelled not only in the cooking process but in the early preparation. Today marks the first time I filleted an entire fish. It is at this moment that I want to give props to fishmongers everywhere: I think your job is really tough, and I'm envious of your ability.

Note to self: Hug the fish guy at the market next time I see him (or her, of course).

Thankfully, only sweat—not blood and tears—was part of my equation. Unfortunately, not everyone could say that. One poor student severely cut her finger with a chef's knife and was forced to spend the entire day in the ER. As the doc was stitching up her wound, she was told she might lose the top of her finger; it was, appropriately, the middle one. She came back at the end of the day with a smile on her face and her appendage wrapped in gauze. Glad she's OK.

It looks like I'll be getting some much-needed filleting practice, as said student is my new partner tomorrow.

But back to the a la meuniere. (Hungry anyone?) For the dish, we made trout in a version called "a la Grenobloise," meaning that capers, diced lemon and croutons were added to the brown butter sauce and then poured over the fish, which was also cooked in butter. Yum.

The other recipe came in a close second, likely because it contained a bit less butter. A fillet of striped bass sat atop a mushroom duxelle (finely diced mushrooms and shallots cooked down in butter) and a tomato fondue (finely chopped tomatoes, shallots and garlic also sweat in butter). It was topped with julienned carrots, leeks and celery (prepared in—you guessed it—butter), a sprig of thyme and a few splashes of white wine. The entire dish was wrapped in parchment paper and baked.

I've said butter more times than I can count. Tonight, I will be enjoying a butter-free dish, full of fresh veggies from the Tompkins Square Greenmarket.

You butter believe it.

Party Hearty

Day 6

It's time for a celebration.

I made it through my first full week of culinary school. I also flambeed for the first time (and didn't burn down the kitchen). On top of that, it's my birthday.

Today I turned 29—the last year in my 20s. Signing up for the day class, I wondered how my age would stack up compared to the rest of the students. I was told "older" students mostly enroll in the evening session. I feel like I'm probably older than most in my particular class (many are straight out of high school or college), but some are in their late 20s, 30s—even 50.

My thought is that it doesn't matter how old you are anyway. Julia Child was in her late 30s when she started cooking. And my mom—the best chef I know—graduated culinary school in her 50s, although she'd been cooking impressive meals for most of her life.

Although there are certainly learned techniques (you can reference my "Tourner Up the Heat" post), I believe cooking is an art. Thus, the name "culinary arts," I suppose. Once you learn the proper methods and find out what flavors complement each other, it's a matter of imagination. There's nothing wrong with recreating a popular dish—after all, it's probably popular because it's good—but I find it most fun adapting recipes or coming up with something entirely new.

OK, enough of those tangent remarks. Today, sauces were the name of the game. I was in charge of the chicken veloute as well as the sauce chateaubriand aux champignons (wine and mushroom sauce). Yum to the latter. Instead of dumping it in the vat with everyone else's, I

selfishly brought it home. It will be perfect to thaw out and spoon over some red meat when time is tight.

I couldn't have asked for a better birthday meal. Ryan put his heart and soul into a steak dinner with creamed spinach. Finding it hard to resist the kitchen, I told him I'd prepare the bearnaise sauce. It was good at first, but after trying to keep it warm for a half-hour, it turned foamy. Bearnaise foam? Sounds like something from molecular gastronomist Wylie Dufresne's kitchen. Guess I'll have to wait for Monday when we cover sauces part two.

A steak dinner wouldn't be complete without a nice bottle of red. We broke out one of the big guns (for us, at least): a 2004 Caparzo Brunello di Montalcino. I bought it

in Tuscany in June 2009 and have been saving it for the right occasion. This seemed to be it.

We ended the evening with a cappuccino—Ryan makes the best, thanks to Breville—and cupcakes from Butter Lane. We split two: banana cake with maple frosting (my favorite) and banana cake with caramel frosting, topped with popcorn.

Sweet conclusion to a sweet week.