Is That a Smile or Just a Crack in Your Scowl?

15 more classes stand between me and my chef's toque. Yikes. I just completed my pastry rotation for Level 6 and it turns out the grumpy chef wasn't as grumpy as I expected. Either that or my expectations were so low considering Vegas set the over-under on total number of smiles cracked by Chef at .25, which I imagine is like one smile for a normal person since I've only seen one small corner of her mouth turn up in what I presume is her happy face. Or maybe she just had powdered sugar in her eye, there is no way of knowing because I am too afraid to ask. I may be exaggerating a tad (am I?) because she did seem to warm up to me and some (not all) of my teammates. Consider that a segueway into my Level 6 team introduction. For the 4th level in a row Evil Cheese is on my team. Thankfully he is super considerate and has not seemed to tire of me yet. Also making a repeat appearance from Level 5 is Farmer Chef. In pastry we had a tendency to follow each other around verifying if we were doing things right while Chef Frosty had her back turned to us. She's a great ally. It may have been mainly me following her around now that I think about it. Another repeat appearance is...drumroll...Korean Spiccoli! So happy to have him back on my team although last night I thought he was going to start throwing tart shells at one of the Level 5 students we are sharing the kitchen with who apparently dribbles a trail of uncooked custard around the room in case she gets lost. Or she is messy. I can't tell yet. Finally, I have the honor of working with the loud-mouthed Israeli who I referenced in this post from August. He is pretty amusing in an evil cartoon character sort of way. Pop Quiz: When I said that chef has warmed up to some of my teammates, guess who is not included in the word "some"? (Hint: the usage of the word "some" in this situation should be taken to mean most or nearly all.) Post your best guess in the comments section.

Our pastry dishes this time around are a pumpkin sponge cake layered with chocolate mousse served surrounded by a spiced apple reduction with tiny diced apple bits floating in the reduction, the cake itself is topped with a perfect quenelle (more on this in a moment) of cream cheese frosting and a perfectly thin crisp apple chip. It's delicious! The other dish is an individual tart filled with lemon curd, topped with a candied pineapple ring and a quenelle (there's that word again) of gingered whipped cream and a shard of macadamia nut brittle, accompanied by a blueberry compote dusted with brittle crumble. Next stop: Yummytown. (Yeah, I know that was terrible, but I have been eating a lot of sugar lately). So a quenelle is a shaped dollop of cream or ice cream or really any condiment that can hold a shape. We were taught in earlier levels to make a quenelle using two spoons, but Chef Quarter Smile does it with just one. To get a better idea of what the hell I am talking about, you can watch this 30 second clip on you tube. Don't be fooled by the fluid motion with which that berry sorbet becomes a perfectly smooth oval. It's not that easy and I think we frustrated chef to no end with our, at first, sloppy quenelles that she told us looked "as if someone already ate it". The key to a perfect quenelle is steaming hot water. Or two spoons...but using two felt like failure under chef's watchful eye, so I'm happy to say that with some determination and an ever boiling pot of water, my quenelles were pretty darn good.

Pastry is still not my favorite thing to do in the kitchen, but I've warmed up to it. I even took some of the leftover pumpkin sponge home and proceeded to make a layered dessert with carmelized bananas, whipped cream, and a rich caramel sauce. It turned out great except for the part when I brushed my hand over the spatula I had just used to stir the boiling hot sugar syrup and it glommed onto my palm like a flaming hot leech. I enjoyed the sweet treat with one hand in an ice bath and now have a blister on my palm the size of a horse tranquilizer. Mike named it Doug. Chef looked horrified when she saw it and I thought she was going to offer me some sympathy, but I should have known better. What I got instead was "That is disgusting! Cover that thing up I cannot work and look at that thing. Wear a glove! What if it explodes in the food! Oh that is so disgusting!". (Me: Slinks away toward box of gloves).

And with that my first rotation of Level 6 is over. It's on to canape where we will prepare a one bite amuse bouche to serve each restaurant patron upon being seated. We will get slammed with orders early in service and then stand around for a few hours watching everyone else work. At least we get to be creative and come up with ideas for the food. Our first canape will be a tuna carpaccio: very thinly sliced raw tuna with arugula, parmesan, lemon, capers, olive oil, salt and pepper all rolled up into a neat, little bite of flavor designed to wake up your mouth and ready it for the procession of courses to come. I could make a weak analogy about school being the amuse bouche for the procession of greatness that is to come but Doug keeps getting in the way and hitting extra keys so I will leave you with the image of my blistered, cut, and scarred hands and forearms so you will think I am hardcore.