It's That Time Again...

My group's final presentation for Baking & Pastry II

At the end of every kitchen rotation comes Practical Time. We also have written final exams, but as I've mentioned previously, for an academic geek like me the hands-on kitchen practical is far more nerve-wracking. Our Advanced Baking & Pastry practical was the most intense yet: it spanned three days, throughout which we made and presented multi-component desserts in groups of three and individually.

It's amazing to me that the number of components we produced only added up to two (very painstaking) desserts: a chocolate mousse entremet (cake, in layman's terms) and individual fruit mousse timbales.

The entremet had a base of coconut dacquoise—meringue made with almond flour and grated coconut—and a creme brulee center, which involved making creme brulee in a small ring mold and freezing it instead of torching the top. On top of the dacquoise base, we added about half of the chocolate mousse, placed the ring of creme brulee in the center, and then filled the mold with the rest of the mousse. That was left to freeze overnight, and the next day we garnished it with French macaroons that we'd also made from scratch, plus chocolate decor that we'd tempered and curled, and tuiles that we'd stenciled and baked.

My group's chocolate mousse entremet

For the individual mousse timbales, we first made chocolate decor paste which decorated the thin layer of almond bisquit cake that would line the timbale molds. We stenciled the decor paste in the diamond pattern you'll see below, then poured the almond bisquit batter over it and baked it. Once the molds were lined with cake, we filled them with mango mousse and a fruit compote center (we chose raspberry) that we'd made and frozen the previous day. These mousses also went into the freezer overnight, and then we topped them with a raspberry glaze.

One of my two individually-plated mango mousse timbales

My three-person group presented our entremet and two of the mousses; then we each plated two additional mousses for an individual grade. Here is the menu that we turned in (written on the paper in the first photo):

Chocolate Mousse Tort
Layers of Chocolate Mousse with Creme Brulee Center and Coconut-Almond Dacquoise
White Chocolate Shavings and Chocolate Tuile


Mango Mousse Timbale with Raspberry Fruit Compote Center
Chocolate and Almond Cake
Raspberry Sauce

Whew. In the end, everything came together surprisingly well, but I won't lie—my stress level was pretty high at times. I try to remind myself that culinary school is a learning experience for me and just to have fun, but sometimes I can't keep my perfectionist tendencies in check. One evening during the three practical days, I was telling my sister about it on the phone. She listened and concluded that she'd never want to work in a group with me for anything. Instead of getting offended, I had to laugh because she is probably right. (Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: "You have to laugh at yourself, because you'd cry your eyes out if you didn't." So wise, those Indigo Girls!) Fortunately, the two guys in my group promise that they still like me after all. And we scored a 95%!

Sick of Sugar

Plating attempt #1: Chocolate Pot de Creme

Remember when I started my first round of Baking & Pastry, I commented here about the fundamental differences between cooking and baking? Well, between then and now, I have determined that although I am a fan of eating baked goods and desserts, I'm definitely not a baker. For me, cooking savory food is not only more forgiving, it's more fun.

Although improvisation and creativity are possible on the pastry side, at our novice level the recipes really must be followed exactly or you'll end up with a ruined dessert. I've seen it happen multiple times this week. One little mistake and the macaroons will be mush, the sponge cake like a sheet of leather, or the creme brulee watery. This makes scaling all of the ingredients and following the recipe step-by-step rather stressful.

In B&P II we're now putting together some pretty complicated multi-component desserts which each incorporate several different techniques. Last week we had a whole day of custards—creme brulee, pot de creme, creme caramel, panna cotta—and this week we'll incorporate a creme brulee center into an elegant cake. We spent the whole day today working on garnishes, like tuiles made with hippen paste (the batter that also makes crisp fortune cookies), chocolate cigarettes, and spun sugar. I usually think of these garnishes as throw-aways—although they're all edible, they're not on the plate for flavor. I could take them or leave them, but pastry chefs tend to be artistic and spend a lot of time and energy making the plate look pretty.

My second plate: Creme Caramel

Third plate: Cheesecake with Raspberry Sauce

The dessert that I had the most fun with isn't baked at all: bananas foster. This could be considered a "cook's dessert" because it is made pretty much using a saute technique. You make a pan sauce by caramelizing sugar and adding butter, brown sugar, orange juice, zest, banana liqueur and rum, and then cook some bananas in it. Then you can even put on a show and let the alcohol flame up for a true flambe presentation. There's no waiting by the oven and praying your dish will come out well. You can taste the sauce and adjust as you go. It may not look as pretty and elegant as the fancy plated desserts we've done, but this is the one I would order, hands-down:

Bananas Foster, no fancy plating required!

Last Friday, after a long morning of filling piping bags with decorating chocolate, making mediocre chocolate designs on plates, and plating our custards over and over again for the chefs, I came home with a bunch of groceries to make dinner for some guests. Zack's mom and grandparents were coming into town and I wanted to cook for them. We'd be going out to nice restaurants the next two nights, so I went with something homey and casual: spaghetti and meatballs.

I thought I'd be burnt out from working on pastries all morning, but in fact I was more excited than ever to cook. I turned on some music and made tomato sauce from scratch, then made turkey meatballs as it bubbled on the stove. I improvised as I went, adding freshly grated parmesan, chopped parsley, minced garlic, and a little bit of lemon zest to the meatballs (my take on Jeff Seltzer's famous recipe!); a dash of balsamic vinegar and sugar to the sauce. For a side, I simply roasted asparagus with a little olive oil, salt, and pepper. I couldn't have been happier and thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon in the kitchen. But when it came to dessert, I was burnt out. Knowing that Zack and his mom love chocolate-covered strawberries, I melted some chocolate over a double boiler and dipped away—no recipe, no scaling ingredients necessary.

Baked Alaska x 2

I went to a wedding this past weekend in New Orleans, and one of the culinary highlights was the Baked Alaska dessert served at the rehearsal dinner. It's a specialty of the house at Antoine's, the French Quarter institution where this dinner was held.

After we'd finished the entree (trout almondine), waiters walked the room showing off the massive uncut Baked Alaskas, the outer layer of meringue decorated with the names of the bride and groom. Then the lights were dimmed and the ice cream-cake-meringue confections were ceremoniously torched. Baked Alaska is ice cream wrapped in a layer of sponge cake, then covered with a thick layer of meringue that gets all toasted-marshmallowy when torched. At Antoine's, they served each slice with a big dollop of warm chocolate sauce. It was absolutely delicious.

When I returned to school this week, I started my next rotation: Advanced Baking & Pastry. And by the title of this post, I'm sure you can guess what we started to make on the first day. Yep, we tackled the seemingly-complicated Baked Alaska. How do you keep the ice cream frozen? Well, we made the ice cream on the first day and froze it in logs. We then baked thin sheets of sponge cake and after they cooled overnight, wrapped the logs with the cake. Then the meringue is piped on with a pastry bag and the whole thing goes back into the freezer until it is ready to torch and serve.

Pre-meringue Baked Alaska, filled with chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla ice creams (Neapolitan)

We also made a few mini Baked Alaskas in ramekins, just by putting a round of cake on the bottom, topping it with ice cream, and placing another round "lid" of cake on top. This was capped with meringue and torched.

Baked Alaska for one

They were tasty, but as proud as I am of our work, it could never have measured up to the one I tasted in New Orleans. Even Zack, the non-dessert-person, was hoping for Baked Alaska the minute he learned that we'd be having dinner at Antoine's, and it did not disappoint. Actually, it was a big sweets weekend for him...

Gratuitous photo of Zack eating beignets at Cafe du Monde

"Is there any powdered sugar on my face?"

Tasting Notes

I apologize for the posting lag. Someone (umm, my dad) suggested that perhaps I was coming back from Wine & Beverage class too drunk to post, but alas, this is not the case. We use spit cups in class so are not actually ingesting much alcohol. Well, except for one day that Chef H. brought in some cheeses for us to taste with red wines as a special treat (above).

Today was our fifth of five days of tastings: white wines, red wines, sparkling wines, fortified wines, and beers. I've always been intrigued and intimidated by the world of wine and although I've learned a great deal over the past couple of weeks, I know I've only scratched the surface.

The biggest accomplishment that I'm taking away from this class is a firmer realization of what I like: crisp white wines, fruity reds, pretty much all sparklings, citrusy-flavored wheat beers. And then there's what I don't like: white wines that are very oaky, intense reds with lots of tannin (although I know they'd mellow out and be better with food), bitter beers with intense hops. Basically, my drinking tastes are very, very girly. I know.

Something else I just can't bring myself to love: Sherry. A couple of summers ago my family and Zack went to Spain and one day we toured the Lustau winery in Xerez, tasting a half-dozen different sherries. I was excited when the sherry we tasted in class was a Lustau wine, but unfortunately, I still didn't like it! I just can't get past the oxidized taste and smell. At the tasting in Spain, I remember being much more excited by all of the marcona almonds, dried fruit, and other snacks than the actual sherries.

I liked the other fortified wines we tasted much more: two Ports (ruby and tawny), Madiera, and Muscato d'Asti. They're sweet wines that most people associate with dessert, but Chef H. stressed that there's no such thing as "dessert wine." He claims it would be like labeling something an "entree wine" or an "appetizer wine."

I wish this class lasted longer, but I already feel like my wine knowledge has grown exponentially. As I continue to educate my drinking palate, I'm sure that I will start to appreciate wines and beers that I'm not crazy about at this moment. I apologize in advance to anyone who has to go out for dinner with me now and wait for me to assess the wine list!

Bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, Zinfandel, Pinot Noir, and Bordeaux that our class worked our way through (and, sadly, spat out into spit cups)