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.

Everything's Better with Butter

Day 7

It's ironic that my partner walked into class today with a pen reading "Plavix," a blood-thinning medication for people with coronary artery disease. After all, it was emusified sauce day; I'll refer to it as butter and egg day.

We made mayonnaise. Then we ate it. We made hollandaise. Then we ate it. Bearnaise followed, then beurre blanc, and finally, sabayon. At this point, I'm sweating butter. My arm is a condiment dispenser—just hand me your toast.

I figured out why my bearnaise on Friday night turned out foamy: lack of heat. I didn't cook the eggs at a high enough temperature. The problem with such emulsified sauces is that you don't want to scramble the eggs, as you're using an uncooked yolk. I witnessed many people today turn their egg/butter mixtures into omelets.

I have to say my bearnaise this afternoon was a thing of beauty. Even after a morning of tasting sauces, I poured the creamy yellow goo over my pork (does anyone eat bearnaise with pork?) and scarfed it down.

No heavy sauces for dinner tonight—just some chipotle tacos and homemade guacamole I whipped up to make myself feel a little healthier. I did snack on some cherry cheddar cheese, courtesy of my study buddy, while cramming for tomorrow's test. A test? Boo. I haven't studied for one of those since 2003.

Too bad it's not a test to see who could eat the most bearnaise. I think I might have a chance.