Tourner Up the Heat

Day 4

My brain is turning into a cocotte.

I was warned for good reason: Tournage is hard. The French technique is used for shaping vegetables by, well, turning them in seven fluid motions. For me, it's more like 70 awkward motions.

There are five main sizes of tournage cuts, and each has a separate name; the most common (in our school, at least) is a 5-centimeter cocotte. The idea is that similar shapes and sizes are easy on the eater's eyes. It also ensures the vegetables will cook consistently.

After making cocottes from several vegetables, we turned them into a garniture bouquetiere, complete with an artichoke bottom cooked un blanc (a lemon, flour and oil solution) and filled with peas; pommes rissolees (potatoes simmered, sauteed in oil, baked in the oven and then tossed in butter); haricots verts a l'anglaise; lightly caramelized pearl onions; and carrots and turnips prepared glacer a blanc (simmered in just enough water to create a glaze, but not browned).

It sounds like a lot of work, right? It is.

So, I said I'd let you know if I was correct about the herbs. I got one correct (lovage). One out of two ain't bad.

What's bad is that I have to practice tourner tonight. How I'm going to fit that into writing down recipes for my next class and enjoying my time out with former co-workers, I have no idea.

Time to tourner up a notch.

Rat Race

Day 3

There's no rat under this hat. I didn't really need him, though. Except maybe to expertly slice my vegetables...

My first recipe at culinary school was ratatouille. I've eaten it plenty of times but never made it. I'm not going to say it was perfect (there's always room for improvement and it's way too early for that to happen, anyway), but I think my partner and I did a pretty damn good job. Can I get a rat-a-tat-tat on the drum?

Alright, one recipe down. I know they'll get harder from here—especially during exams when we have to regurgitate ingredients and directions from memory—but it feels good to complete a dish in school. The first day, I couldn't even hold a knife without visibly shaking.

The second recipe was a bit trickier because it dealt with presentation. We were asked to use a ring mold to make a layered beet and goat cheese salad, topped with frisee. Again, I think it came out well. But we were scolded for our knife skills. Macedoine, you're killing me.

But it's only Day 3, right? Anyone have 50 pounds of vegetables they want to donate so I can practice? I'll make you some ratatouille.

Spice and herb identification took the remainder of the day. Luckily, I knew most of the herbs—that is, except for two. The chef said he'd reveal their names tomorrow. If we didn't know them, we were supposed to go home and look them up. (I'll go out on a limb and guess lovage and watercress. I'll let you know if I'm wrong in my next post.)

I also tasted mace (the nutmeg seed's shell) for the first time that I was aware. Most of the times I've seen the word "mace," it has been in regards to pepper spray. My mom gave me a little black vial when I went off to college. Fortunately, I never had to use it. By the way, I'm pretty sure the spice mace and self-defense Mace are unrelated.

Tomorrow we learn how to tournage, or cut vegetables into faceted oval shapes. I haven't heard anything positive about it. A student in the locker room said she cried over it. Yikes.

I better add another 50 pounds of vegetables onto that previous request.