We've finally started making things I actually like, which is probably not a good thing for my escalating weight. In three days, we made three different cakes--chocolate with hazelnuts and a chocolate ganache and glaze, sponge cake with a raspberry jam and vanilla buttercream, and a black forest cake. This cake segment of the class has given me more confidence, because I'm not always the last one finished and I'm decently good at some of the techniques. We had an "assessment" on the day of the sponge cake. We had to finish the whole cake in 2 hours, instead of the usual 3! I realized through that experience, that pressure is what gets me to get the job done. We all weren't talking and just moving quickly while focusing, and I was the first one finished!
Also, I've decided who my favorite chef is in school. He's another French guy (surprise, surprise), who does both pastry and cuisine. The first time we had him as our chef during a practical was about 4 weeks in, and he was great because he was interested in knowing about all of us. On Thursday, a bunch of kids from school went to the closest pub from school (literally 50 feet away), and Chef Loic also joined us for some pints. He asked me if I wanted to be a chef, which is really an awkward question when coming from a teacher, because I don't want them to think I'm not serious about the course. I ended up telling him that I'm getting my Ph.D. in astrophysics and was hesitant to see his reaction but he was very supportive! He said he really thinks I should get my Ph.D. because I can always be a pastry chef later in life, but obviously, the time to get my Ph.D. is now. It was just nice for him to have been supportive and non-judgemental about my decision to not become a pastry chef when the course is finished.
On another note, I've become really antisocial and lazy lately. I have no motivation to leave the house or hang out with other students. Partly, it's because it's been raining, but for example, this Saturday I was asked to party with two different groups of people, but couldn't get myself to go for the life of me. Eh, I guess it's just a phase, but part of me thinks I should be taking advantage of being in London and hanging out with the new people. Then part of me also thinks I'm only going to be in London for a month longer, and it's been so nice spending this time with the Mertners, let me just keep doing that.
Oh and...I made a rose from marzipan, and it actually looked like a rose!
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
Quality vs. Quantity
There seems to be some sort of 4 year cycle that occurs in my life. So it has only occurred twice, but it's still worth noting. I've always been one to accept that people come in your life for some time and leave without reason.
I guess I can give the example of high school, since I still am in the process of going through that second cycle. I definitely did things differently back then. I had lots of people around me at all times, and not too many of them really close to me. As we all became distant, physically and mentally (some of us decided to mature, some didn't), what was left for me was less than a handful of close friends. As I'm good at repressing unwanted memories, I'm sure it was difficult letting go at the time, but now I'm more than happy with the couple people I'm still close to from high school.
This time around, in college, I decided to get to know fewer people and build stronger friendships with them. I assumed to a certain extent that since I didn't keep around many acquaintances, it was assumed that these friendships were to last.
Yet again, distance is always a test, and even this time around I'm experiencing the realization that some people are in your life only for a limited amount of time, however close you thought you were to them.
I don't think it tells me that I obviously wasn't as close to them as I was to those friends of mine that survived the test of time, it tells me that friendship isn't as selfless as people make it out to be. I believe, to a certain extent, that people are selfish, and I find that there's nothing wrong with that. After all, you first have to make sure you're happy before you can make someone else happy. Which is why I'm so amazed at mothers. I can't imagine ever being so in control of my life that I can give all my attention to another being who is that helpless and solely dependent on me. But I'm digressing. Where I'm going with this is that friendship is two-way. I've come to realize that those friends that don't pass the test of time were probably just there because you needed them to help with a certain aspect of your life and they needed you. As you both change and grow out of that stage, you don't feel the need for each other. It's a rational and detached way of thinking about it, but maybe that just helps me to accept the reality of losing friends.
I guess I can give the example of high school, since I still am in the process of going through that second cycle. I definitely did things differently back then. I had lots of people around me at all times, and not too many of them really close to me. As we all became distant, physically and mentally (some of us decided to mature, some didn't), what was left for me was less than a handful of close friends. As I'm good at repressing unwanted memories, I'm sure it was difficult letting go at the time, but now I'm more than happy with the couple people I'm still close to from high school.
This time around, in college, I decided to get to know fewer people and build stronger friendships with them. I assumed to a certain extent that since I didn't keep around many acquaintances, it was assumed that these friendships were to last.
Yet again, distance is always a test, and even this time around I'm experiencing the realization that some people are in your life only for a limited amount of time, however close you thought you were to them.
I don't think it tells me that I obviously wasn't as close to them as I was to those friends of mine that survived the test of time, it tells me that friendship isn't as selfless as people make it out to be. I believe, to a certain extent, that people are selfish, and I find that there's nothing wrong with that. After all, you first have to make sure you're happy before you can make someone else happy. Which is why I'm so amazed at mothers. I can't imagine ever being so in control of my life that I can give all my attention to another being who is that helpless and solely dependent on me. But I'm digressing. Where I'm going with this is that friendship is two-way. I've come to realize that those friends that don't pass the test of time were probably just there because you needed them to help with a certain aspect of your life and they needed you. As you both change and grow out of that stage, you don't feel the need for each other. It's a rational and detached way of thinking about it, but maybe that just helps me to accept the reality of losing friends.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Lemon Cake and Italians
So it's been a pretty busy last couple days. I had my hardest day at school, followed by a nice Diwali dinner, and then a trip to Milano to visit Vale and then Venice with Shikha.
Let's start with my hardest day as of yet. I knew getting into it that it would be difficult because we had 3 separate dishes to do in 3 hours--almond cake, lemon cake, and madeleines. And yes, I thought of Sapna Didi the whole time as I was making the lemon cake. So I started off quickly moving around and trying to get everything done, but things really slowed down during the lemon cake. I swear, there's some sort of curse with lemon cake, as I'm sure Sapna didi will agree. We had to cream the butter and sugar, which requires the butter to be at room temperature. So if you start with butter at fridge temperature, you have to work it a lot more and every now and then put it over heat so that it just gets warm enough to beat, but not too warm that it starts melting. Anyway, I don't know if anyone cares, but basically when I tried heating it, it would start melting so I just tried to whisk it vigorously until it got softer. I swear I beat it for at least 25 minutes and finally got somewhere. After that, anytime I made the beating motion, my arms were killing me! So we ended up finishing 10 minutes LATE...which is absolutely terrible. Plus, we didn't even get time to decorate our cakes. And in the process, I burned myself twice. Not really my fault but mostly because everyone was rushing, they'd have their hot trays out and during one of my mad dashes to whisk something or add some ingredient, I would touch the hot tray. The lemon cake tasted good in the end. I'm sure the almond cake would have been good except that I didn't like the dense texture of it. The madeleines were also good, except that the pattern from the pans didn't really show up because apparently I didn't butter the pans well enough.
Ok, enough about school. Now...the weekend! Me, Shikha, and the Merners all went to eat Indian food at a local restaurant dressed in our desi clothes. Even Iain wore his cute sherwani! Then I went to Milano to visit Vale...who decided to completely be a failure friend. I had Dick's phone number and Vale had told me to call him when I get in, so he could tell me their address. I don't know why she didn't just give me the address beforehand. Anyway, obviously they had had a ridiculous party the night before from which they got home at 6 a.m. I landed at 10:45 a.m., called Dick around 6 times and homeboy decided not to pick up. I kind of just sat around at the airport wondering what to do for a good while, then found a computer, hoped that Vale was smart enough to send me their address, then remembered she's an idiot. Finally, Dick called and of course I was expecting Vale on the phone but it wasn't her, but was chirpy and friendly Dick saying sorry and that he can't wait to see me. Vale...not so stupid...knew she should get Dick to call or else I'd yell at her. Haha, by the time I saw her, the anger had worn off. Smart Balls.
Mostly, I walked around the city (it was a gorgeous, sunny day) with Vale, got some great pizza, and then went out with her, Dick, and their friends at night. There ended up being around 5 other I-House people at the party we went to. Crazy! Everyone was speaking Italian most of the time and I felt like a little kid who disturbs their mom, mid conversation. The problem was, because I didn't understand the language at all, I wouldn't realize that Vale was having a conversation, and would randomly start talking to her. She'd turn to me and be like 'hold on' and I'd realize how rude I was being.
Anyway, next part of the weekend...Venice. It was pretty cold, but sunny, so it was still beautiful. Eh..there's so much to write about, but a couple interesting things occurred at one of the bars at night. Somehow the Bangladeshi waiter decided to take me back into the kitchen and I chilled w/ the cooks and they fed me French Onion Soup, after giving me the recipe. Then I asked the owner of the bar for a job working as his pastry chef and initally he said yes, but then said no cuz he couldn't afford it. Then next, I started talking to these people next to us because they had IPhones, and they were from Miami. Somehow I started to talk about America and Iraq to one of them, and obviously didn't realize he was a Republican until halfway through the conversation. Nonetheless, it was interesting giving my opinion and hearing his, since I would never bring up that subject if in a normal state of mind ;-).
Then the last day, I spent walking around Venice on my own because Shikha had already left. It was pretty funny getting awkward reactions to "table for one", but I got used to it and started embracing the solitary existence. Of all places, being alone in Venice is definitely...interesting. I mean, it was funny enough that other than Shikha and I, everyone else at a restaurant was coupled off. Venetians were definitely not used to seeing a tourist alone. That's why a lot of times they'd start talking to me in Italian, assuming I was a local who could be caught dead alone.
Let's start with my hardest day as of yet. I knew getting into it that it would be difficult because we had 3 separate dishes to do in 3 hours--almond cake, lemon cake, and madeleines. And yes, I thought of Sapna Didi the whole time as I was making the lemon cake. So I started off quickly moving around and trying to get everything done, but things really slowed down during the lemon cake. I swear, there's some sort of curse with lemon cake, as I'm sure Sapna didi will agree. We had to cream the butter and sugar, which requires the butter to be at room temperature. So if you start with butter at fridge temperature, you have to work it a lot more and every now and then put it over heat so that it just gets warm enough to beat, but not too warm that it starts melting. Anyway, I don't know if anyone cares, but basically when I tried heating it, it would start melting so I just tried to whisk it vigorously until it got softer. I swear I beat it for at least 25 minutes and finally got somewhere. After that, anytime I made the beating motion, my arms were killing me! So we ended up finishing 10 minutes LATE...which is absolutely terrible. Plus, we didn't even get time to decorate our cakes. And in the process, I burned myself twice. Not really my fault but mostly because everyone was rushing, they'd have their hot trays out and during one of my mad dashes to whisk something or add some ingredient, I would touch the hot tray. The lemon cake tasted good in the end. I'm sure the almond cake would have been good except that I didn't like the dense texture of it. The madeleines were also good, except that the pattern from the pans didn't really show up because apparently I didn't butter the pans well enough.
Ok, enough about school. Now...the weekend! Me, Shikha, and the Merners all went to eat Indian food at a local restaurant dressed in our desi clothes. Even Iain wore his cute sherwani! Then I went to Milano to visit Vale...who decided to completely be a failure friend. I had Dick's phone number and Vale had told me to call him when I get in, so he could tell me their address. I don't know why she didn't just give me the address beforehand. Anyway, obviously they had had a ridiculous party the night before from which they got home at 6 a.m. I landed at 10:45 a.m., called Dick around 6 times and homeboy decided not to pick up. I kind of just sat around at the airport wondering what to do for a good while, then found a computer, hoped that Vale was smart enough to send me their address, then remembered she's an idiot. Finally, Dick called and of course I was expecting Vale on the phone but it wasn't her, but was chirpy and friendly Dick saying sorry and that he can't wait to see me. Vale...not so stupid...knew she should get Dick to call or else I'd yell at her. Haha, by the time I saw her, the anger had worn off. Smart Balls.
Mostly, I walked around the city (it was a gorgeous, sunny day) with Vale, got some great pizza, and then went out with her, Dick, and their friends at night. There ended up being around 5 other I-House people at the party we went to. Crazy! Everyone was speaking Italian most of the time and I felt like a little kid who disturbs their mom, mid conversation. The problem was, because I didn't understand the language at all, I wouldn't realize that Vale was having a conversation, and would randomly start talking to her. She'd turn to me and be like 'hold on' and I'd realize how rude I was being.
Anyway, next part of the weekend...Venice. It was pretty cold, but sunny, so it was still beautiful. Eh..there's so much to write about, but a couple interesting things occurred at one of the bars at night. Somehow the Bangladeshi waiter decided to take me back into the kitchen and I chilled w/ the cooks and they fed me French Onion Soup, after giving me the recipe. Then I asked the owner of the bar for a job working as his pastry chef and initally he said yes, but then said no cuz he couldn't afford it. Then next, I started talking to these people next to us because they had IPhones, and they were from Miami. Somehow I started to talk about America and Iraq to one of them, and obviously didn't realize he was a Republican until halfway through the conversation. Nonetheless, it was interesting giving my opinion and hearing his, since I would never bring up that subject if in a normal state of mind ;-).
Then the last day, I spent walking around Venice on my own because Shikha had already left. It was pretty funny getting awkward reactions to "table for one", but I got used to it and started embracing the solitary existence. Of all places, being alone in Venice is definitely...interesting. I mean, it was funny enough that other than Shikha and I, everyone else at a restaurant was coupled off. Venetians were definitely not used to seeing a tourist alone. That's why a lot of times they'd start talking to me in Italian, assuming I was a local who could be caught dead alone.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Doctors and Chefs
Sometimes I like to compare myself to a med student. When I roll out of class to the grocery store in my uniform, I can't help but think about how it's similar to when doctors do the same in their scrubs. The uniforms, in some ways, are similar too. It's likely that both uniforms are stained with unidentifiable liquids of various colors. Not as much for a pastry chef, but a cuisine chef is definitely bound to have animal/blood remnants staining their clothing. Difference is that doctors' are stained with human artifacts. Oh right, so are chefs'--depending on their proficiency with knives.
But anyway, I think one of the best parts of being a student in this field has got to be this. Most people carry pens in their pockets because who knows when you'll need to jot something down, right? Us...we keep a spoon in our chef jacket's pocket. Cuz you know, who knows when you're gonna have to eat something!
But anyway, I think one of the best parts of being a student in this field has got to be this. Most people carry pens in their pockets because who knows when you'll need to jot something down, right? Us...we keep a spoon in our chef jacket's pocket. Cuz you know, who knows when you're gonna have to eat something!
Monday, November 5, 2007
A piece of black plastic...
My god....I'd have to admit to it right about now...best meal of my life. I used to say that it was one from France, near Bordeaux, but this one just owned it. This restaurant was a 3-star restaurant and back in 1999 (or something like that), when the E-Coli bit hit, they decided to rid their menu of all meat. So they basically specialize in vegetarian food! Great for me and the fam. So before we even ordered food...they made us try about 5 different....I don't even know what to call them. Basically it was bite-sized finger food...but soo gourmet. It was all centered around some vegetable....radish, butternut squash, beet roots, etc. Then we had like 5 courses after that..and you know..you can't even describe what you're eating...which is what makes it so amazing! My mom cooks really well and usually can decipher tastes, and I try to decipher tastes as well, but you have NO IDEA what ingredients are used.
Anyway, what was really nice was, at the restaurant, a couple next to us decided to ask us where we're from. They were from Mexico, so I'm guessing that they thought we were Mexican too. The wife loved America and we bonded about how we don't like that people are so uptight in Europe. But lets get down to it...this guy was rolling hardcore. When he was paying his bill...I noticed that he had an American Express Black Card. Anyway, u basically get that card if you are ridiculously bankish...so being intoxicated as I was, I said "so..i notice you have a black card...how did you get that?" and he's like "oh they just gave it to me!" Crazy. Anyway, however bankish they were, it was nice to know that they weren't rich pricks...which is the case for a lot of those rich ones in France.
I bonded w/ the waiter about how much I love that the French take their food so seriously.
The black-card friend of mine apparently knows 10 of the 15 3-star chefs in paris....right...remind ME to roll w/ him. The chef at the restaurant came out and talked to our friend and I was so awkward. Seriously, it was like the guy was a celebrity. I mean, he really was. I know none of you think so...but he's a 3-star chef...of which there are about 15 in Paris. He really IS celebrity status. *sigh* Anyway....good night in Paris.
I visited Le Cordon Bleu Paris, and it's more high class than the one in London. I can't believe I'm gonna be living in Paris in a couple months...a little bothersome. The French scare the crap out of me. Ugh... I'm probably not making sense right now but it's cuz of the really great wine we had tonight....basically...AMAZING night. Goodnight!
Anyway, what was really nice was, at the restaurant, a couple next to us decided to ask us where we're from. They were from Mexico, so I'm guessing that they thought we were Mexican too. The wife loved America and we bonded about how we don't like that people are so uptight in Europe. But lets get down to it...this guy was rolling hardcore. When he was paying his bill...I noticed that he had an American Express Black Card. Anyway, u basically get that card if you are ridiculously bankish...so being intoxicated as I was, I said "so..i notice you have a black card...how did you get that?" and he's like "oh they just gave it to me!" Crazy. Anyway, however bankish they were, it was nice to know that they weren't rich pricks...which is the case for a lot of those rich ones in France.
I bonded w/ the waiter about how much I love that the French take their food so seriously.
The black-card friend of mine apparently knows 10 of the 15 3-star chefs in paris....right...remind ME to roll w/ him. The chef at the restaurant came out and talked to our friend and I was so awkward. Seriously, it was like the guy was a celebrity. I mean, he really was. I know none of you think so...but he's a 3-star chef...of which there are about 15 in Paris. He really IS celebrity status. *sigh* Anyway....good night in Paris.
I visited Le Cordon Bleu Paris, and it's more high class than the one in London. I can't believe I'm gonna be living in Paris in a couple months...a little bothersome. The French scare the crap out of me. Ugh... I'm probably not making sense right now but it's cuz of the really great wine we had tonight....basically...AMAZING night. Goodnight!
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Whistle While You Work
So after my epiphany that I would like to do all 3 courses and get certified as a pastry chef, we had an absolutely ridiculous technical demo. This demo is the type in which we just watch and learn the techniques and hope that one day we'll be able to do them. Anyway, Chef Christophe made Chestnut Charlotte and a Chocolate Fig Tart. The Charlotte is a German dessert and is just extremely tedious. The chef had a huge bowl of batter and spread a thin layer of it in a pan, put it under heat for 2 minutes, then added another layer, and repeated the process until all the batter was used. It had to have been about 50+ layers. I'm sure it tasted amazing, but WOW...that's dedication. He didn't fail to mention though, that to actually get yourself to do this, you probably should be extremely depressed and bored out of your mind.
Anyway, yesterday I went to a pub and met up with some friends from school and there was this chef who had his own catering business there. He was talking about a wedding he was about to cater and we literally spent half an hour discussing the entire menu. I had always said, when I entered Lawrence Berkeley Labs, and joined in the 3:30 p.m. tea time, that it was so exciting overhearing conversations about the formation of the universe, galaxies, and all astrophysics talk. This is the same thing. All conversations that take place are food-centric and it's really just nice to get into the nuances of foods and recipes. For example, I've heard so many people describing the excitement and rush they feel when they cook their own stock-- "And then you keep reducing it, and reducing it, until it's just so flavorful. And it's made all from scratch."
I've started feeling somewhat of that rush when I'm in a practical. After hurrying and scurrying across the room for the past 3 hours, not knowing whether the dish would come out right, it feels so fulfilling seeing that the hard work has paid off. What's interesting is, I don't have the inclination to try the dish because I've realized that when it comes to these classes, unless you mess up terribly, the pastry will probably taste good, it's about getting it to look good that's the problem.
By the way, Chef Christophe is borderline insane. Not only does he sing and whistle loudly while working, he talks to his pots, pans, food, etc. Apparently the food tells him when it's ready to be taken out of the oven. I think you gotta be somewhat crazy to be a pastry chef with the lifestyle, and this Frenchie seems to be a perfect example of that. Maybe I should rethink that decision of doing all 3 courses and subjecting myself to the insanity. Hmmm...nah...I'm loving it.
Anyway, yesterday I went to a pub and met up with some friends from school and there was this chef who had his own catering business there. He was talking about a wedding he was about to cater and we literally spent half an hour discussing the entire menu. I had always said, when I entered Lawrence Berkeley Labs, and joined in the 3:30 p.m. tea time, that it was so exciting overhearing conversations about the formation of the universe, galaxies, and all astrophysics talk. This is the same thing. All conversations that take place are food-centric and it's really just nice to get into the nuances of foods and recipes. For example, I've heard so many people describing the excitement and rush they feel when they cook their own stock-- "And then you keep reducing it, and reducing it, until it's just so flavorful. And it's made all from scratch."
I've started feeling somewhat of that rush when I'm in a practical. After hurrying and scurrying across the room for the past 3 hours, not knowing whether the dish would come out right, it feels so fulfilling seeing that the hard work has paid off. What's interesting is, I don't have the inclination to try the dish because I've realized that when it comes to these classes, unless you mess up terribly, the pastry will probably taste good, it's about getting it to look good that's the problem.
By the way, Chef Christophe is borderline insane. Not only does he sing and whistle loudly while working, he talks to his pots, pans, food, etc. Apparently the food tells him when it's ready to be taken out of the oven. I think you gotta be somewhat crazy to be a pastry chef with the lifestyle, and this Frenchie seems to be a perfect example of that. Maybe I should rethink that decision of doing all 3 courses and subjecting myself to the insanity. Hmmm...nah...I'm loving it.
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