On the line

Fried chicken with mashed potatoes, sautéed green beans, pan gravy

I've finally reached the the back-of-the-house, Lumiere's kitchen. When Chef T. assigned us to stations this morning—the positions we'll be working during lunch service for the next three weeks—I don't know what he was thinking. For whatever reason he must have thought I looked somewhat capable, because he put me on the hot line.

Others will be making salads, assembling sandwiches, and ladling out soups they've prepared in advance—all things I feel confident that I know how to do. But I'll be firing entrees on the hot line, the most skilled job in the kitchen (behind the chef and sous chef, of course). Fortunately, some of my station-mates are experienced restaurant cooks who currently work in Atlanta's best kitchens, so they've promised to help me along.

The restaurant is closed to diners on the first two days of each rotation, so we had some time to practice and get slightly comfortable before our first customers arrive tomorrow. Having served in the front-of-the-house prior to entering the kitchen is definitely an advantage, because we're already familiar with the lunch menu and have seen how the food is plated dozens of times.

Fried shrimp with creamed-corn risotto, tomato salsa, parsley beurre blanc

Today we mise en placed—set up, remember?—our stations, which for us meant portioning out proteins, cutting vegetables, making risotto, mashed potatoes and other sides that could be finished before service. Then Chef I., our other instructor, demonstrated what we needed to cook a la minute for service and how to plate each dish. He demoed how to grill the flatiron steak, how to quickly sauté the vegetables we'd already blanched, how to fry several menu items—this is the South, after all. We've got fried chicken, fried shrimp, fish and chips, and pan-fried trout coming off of our station. Not to mention sides of onion rings and shoestring fries, plus fried oysters and fried green tomatoes that we have to fire for the appetizer station. Whoever mans the deep-fryer tomorrow will undoubtedly be busy—or in restaurant-speak, in the weeds.

Fish and chips with cucumber-tomato salad

Our plates looked restaurant-quality, and this is the one day when we were allowed to eat what we'd prepared. However, we only made one plate of each dish and there are 30 people in my class. I didn't even feel like getting involved in the vulture-like free-for-all that commenced once the chefs finished inspecting our plating.

I plan to go back to Lumiere in the evening to sample more of the menu with my sweet discount, now that I can bring Zack, who will soon finish the NY bar exam and come out of hiding! He's a tough judge of fried chicken, so he'll surely be able to tell me if this one—served (see photo above) with mashed potatoes and green beans, just like at Watershed—passes muster. Actually, perhaps he should come on his own for lunch while I'm cooking on the line—his chicken might be personally fried by yours truly.

And for something not fried: Lumiere's burger, albeit with onion rings (I'm told they're excellent!)

Lumiere: A Student's Review

I had to miss a few days of class this rotation, so my instructor Chef F. told me she'd come up with a way for me to make up the work. I gave her an idea: I already had plans to eat at our school's restaurant last Friday night for dinner, when the PM class would be cooking and serving (our AM class, obviously, handles lunch). What if I wrote up a review of my experience as my make-up project? Chef F. was sold. Here's the review I submitted to her. It's not just kissing up—Sheri was my date and we truly had a lovely evening. I was really impressed by the food and service and only hope that we come off as well at lunch.

* * *

Lumière, Le Cordon Bleu Atlanta’s in-house restaurant, is transformed in the evenings. We step inside and forget that we’re in an office park complex; I temporarily forget that this is where I attended class and served customers just this morning. This restaurant is a classroom—the last course before culinary students head into the real world of restaurants, hotels and catering—but tonight it doesn’t feel like one. The lights are low and the mood is romantic yet relaxed, with couples and eager families filling the tables surrounding an impressive open kitchen.

For the past eleven months, I’ve driven to this building every morning for school. My car is on autopilot as my dinner date and I turn onto Lakeside Parkway. But it’s seven-thirty in the evening, and I’m not wearing my familiar chef’s whites and houndstooth-checked pants. Instead, I’m in a summer dress, my hair is done and makeup is on. Tonight, I’m a diner, a guest.

My friend and I are led to a comfortable four-top right in the middle of the dining room and I snag a kitchen-view seat. I’m used to working lunch, and they’ve appropriately stepped up the fanciness a bit for dinner—menus are in hard-cover jackets; candles are on the tables; a lovely tasting glass of house-made lemonade arrives as a “gift from the bartender”.

A former classmate from my morning class, Ms. Henry, greets us and will be taking care of our table this evening. It’s fun to see a familiar face, and I’m quickly amazed at how she transforms into a warm, hospitable server instead of a classmate. After we place our order, she presents us each with an amuse bouche, a tiny ramekin of sweet corn custard. It’s rich and eggy yet light on the tongue, like a savory creme brulée. This elegant little bite does its job of whetting our appetites.

The summer vegetable and white bean soup that I selected for my first course is heartier than I had expected—there are far more beans than vegetables—but it has great flavor and I find myself scraping every last bit from the bowl. My companion went for the soup of the day, a very seasonally-appropriate chilled cucumber and yogurt.

Eager to sample the goods from the kitchen’s pizza oven, we order a pie to split as a mid-course. The many flavors—roasted chicken, fresh mozzarella, onion confit, spinach and a garlic cream sauce—meld well together, the slight sweetness of the onions and garlic cream balancing the nice saltiness of the crust. The kitchen split the pizza in half for us, so we were each presented with our own pretty plate. Ms. Henry is also on top of it when we ask to box up some unfinished slices to take home. She brings our leftovers back to the kitchen and in an instant, returns with a doggy bag, then sets it on the side of the table just to make sure we don’t forget it. I appreciate that thoughtful gesture, since I always forget my doggy bags under the table.

Two more courses are still to come. The scallop entree that neither of us could resist ordering offers no less than nine medium-sized scallops, beautifully pan-seared. My favorite part about the dish, however, may be the saute of leeks and thinly-sliced fennel on top. I could eat a plate of that and call it a day. The scallops rest on a bed of creamy white-cheddar grits, and a pool of intensely-flavored shellfish sauce finishes off the plate.

We each only manage to finish about half of this extremely generous portion of scallops, but naturally, we still have room for a little dessert. The sorbets that evening were enticing—honeydew, apple-cinnamon, and blueberry. Each tasted of pure, fresh fruit. Served atop a tuile cookie with some fresh berries, it’s a refreshing and light summer dessert. The more decadent sweets arriving on other tables look wonderful as well—I’ll be back to try the warm berry cobbler that I enviously served to a table the other day at lunch.

Two-and-a-half hours have gone by since we sat down, but we never once look at our watches during this leisurely dinner. The pacing of courses was pretty close to perfect, so we were never looking around for our food to arrive. The meal ends with scrumptious mignardises, another extra perk at dinner. These are like a dessert amuse bouche, a tiny bite of sweetness to conclude the meal. Ours is an elegant take on a s’more, with a crunchy cookie base, a layer of chocolate, and finally, a swirl of marshmallowy meringue piped on top and torched golden brown. It’s a lovely send-off—and so is the check. I’m willing to bet that there’s nowhere else in the city where three-plus courses and this kind of pampering cost less than $25.

The Rundown:

Lumière
1927 Lakeside Parkway
(770)723-3507

Open Tuesday through Friday for lunch and dinner
Reservations accepted

Dinner entrees: $9.95-$13.95
Lunch entrees: $4.95-$8.50
* my check reflects the 20% discount for Le Cordon Bleu students and their families

Front of the house

Plated dishes ready to hit the tables

Again, a long absence from the blog—I apologize. We had summer break from culinary school, albeit a very abbreviated version of the summer vacations I used to know. However, I got to spend my week off in Lyon, France with my family, so I have little to complain about. We spent a wonderful week eating and drinking our way through Southeast France. You can view my photo gallery of the trip here. Warning: my photos are relatively light on the people and scenery and heavy on the food shots!

Now I have entered the final phase of culinary school: The Restaurant. This is what we've been hearing about and working our way towards since we entered Skills 1 with our shiny new knife kits almost a year ago. First, we spend three weeks in the front-of-the-house as servers, hosts, managers, and bartenders. Then, we move into the open kitchen in back to cook for real live paying customers.

I've never been a server before, or worked in a restaurant at all, for that matter. In high school, most of my friends had part-time jobs either in restaurants or retail stores around our suburb. I wasn't really a foodie yet at that time, but I played tennis, so I worked in a shop called Racquet and Jog. Incidentally, what I remember most from that job is the really good bakery next door—our manager would buy us these delicious oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies when we reached a certain sales total for the day.

But I digress. Last week at Lumiere—the name of Le Cordon Bleu's in-house restaurant—I served my very first table. Our school is in a big office-park complex, so many of our lunch customers are employees from the various businesses, but the rest are retirees. I presume these older folks love it because since we are a student-run restaurant, the prices are dirt-cheap. I'm talking nothing over $8, and the menu includes pretty tasty stuff like crab cakes, flat-iron steak, shrimp and white-cheddar grits, fried oysters. Before service, our counterparts in the kitchen plated up most of the menu items for us to see and taste.

Pan-seared crab cake with corn-and-pepper succotash at Lumiere

Mixed green salad, fresh mozzarella salad, fried oysters with remoulade

My very first customers were an adorable older couple and the wife was celebrating her birthday. They loved the she-crab soup, fried chicken, and the chocolate dome I brought over as their free birthday dessert. They asked me questions about the food and the program, and I managed to answer charmingly without spilling coffee on either of them.