The Marzipan Taunts Me (Dumb Luck at Making Roses)
It is seriously all I can do to not eat the entire bag of marzipan (a sugar-and-almond dough-like substance, used for modeling edible forms and flowers) I brought home from Cakes & Cake Decorating class.
We are supposed to practice making roses out of it, using the technique outlined in a video we watched in class. Although I can’t say my form is completely perfect, my second attempt (the first being at school) today was pretty darn okay.
Does that mean I can eat it? I. Love. Marzipan.
Here’s how I did it:
First, I rolled the marzipan into a 1″-thick or so log. I cut the following pieces with a sharp paring knife:
- One 1.5″ piece
- Two 1″ pieces
- Eight 3/4″ pieces
Each of these is rolled into a sphere, then into a cone shape. The first piece will be more conical than the others.
Using a plastic dough scraper/bench knife, you gently squash the cone into a flat, large oval, which will be thicker and wider on the fat end of the cone. Hopefully.
The guy in the video did this in two strokes, both at the same 45 degree or so angle across the cone. The first time, you leave some of the fat end untouched, and the second time you get the whole thing.
Okay, so my "bench knife" was a cheesy pasta measure thing that came in the mail. My real one is...somewhere.
Still a little lumpy. I later switched to a sturdier bench knife that left fewer ridges.
Next, I rolled the center of the rose with this largest piece, using the thick end toward the bottom. I used the extra at the bottom to squish out a base.
Next, I flattened the next two petals in similar fashion, gave them a little pleat in the side (see below) and stuck them tightly around the base.
My problem with my earlier attempt at school is that I let these drape widely, making the flower look too much like a pansy or something. Roses are more tightly wound in the middle.
Now I spread, pleated and placed the next three petals, from the remaining eight pieces.
Pleat all one layer's petals at once and lay them face down on the work surface until you're ready.
Now, just the remaining five pieces await. These will stick on a little differently, so stay frosty.
Since these final petals will be visible from the outside, you’ll want to make sure each one tucks underneath the one before it. You know, to look all natural and junk. So before you completely press down one side, hold it open and position the next petal.
Aaaaand….voila. The finished rose. Like I said, I had some dumb luck this time, and it took a little pre-fiddling at class to get the idea. It’s worth giving it a try. You can purchase marzipan by the bucket at cake supply stores and online.
Besides, they’re delicious, whether they turn out pretty or not. So are the scraps.
I’m just saying.
Cakes and Cake Decorating Class at Pulaski Tech (with recipe for Swiss Buttercream)
Delish, no?
Too bad I can’t eat it. Oh well. The hubs and kids will feast after dinner tonight.
Last night was our second lab in Cakes and Cake Decorating Class, and the first time we really got to go at it on a cake. So incredibly fun!
I didn’t get as much time as I would have liked to decorate, since we took so long learning the ropes of splitting and filling cakes and making Swiss buttercream frosting. It is a little wonky in places, and I had to use someone else’s vivid green rather than my own pastel just because I ran out of time to bag it up. But not too shabby for a first try.
Swiss buttercream, by the way, is so incredibly delicious, I think I’ll never make the regular kind again. It’s shiny and not too sweet. You get…well…heck. I’ll just show you the ingredient list that Chef J wrote on the board:
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Swiss Buttercream
Ingredients for Swiss buttercream
Place the egg whites and sugar in the mixer bowl over a pan of simmering water, and stir until the sugar is melted and the whole thing is just a little gooey, about 140 degrees. Then place this into your mixer with the whip attachment and kick it up to high for a while.
Conveniently, you don’t have to worry about overbeating, because the sugar acts as a stabilizer.
Once the mixture is well beaten, shiny and fluffy, check the temperature, which needs to come down closer to room temp before adding the butter. Usually the action of the mixer will do this, but some mixers add heat. If this happens, just place the mixer bowl into a bowl of ice for a minute or two and return your goo to the machine.
Now turn the mixer back on and add the butter, a room-temp chunk at a time (no need to be too pretty about cutting it up), while the mixer whips it together. Add the vanilla.
If you want to add chocolate, melt about 8 ounces of white chocolate or 12 ounces of semi-sweet, and let it cool slightly, then add. If you want to have some colors as well as chocolate, you can split up the batch and mix in the chocolate and the color bases separately, by hand.
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I want to walk you through everything else we did recipe-style, but it will take for-eh-vah. I’ll just regale you with photos of each step so you can be jealous that I actually get a grade for this sort of activity.
Meanwhile, I’ve found a recipe for a gluten-free poundcake, which I think I’ll use for our next project.
Stay tuned.
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Say Cheese (Recipe for Bocconcini Mozzarella Balls)
I just got around to finishing this post about making cheese last semester in Garde Manger class. In fact, I was supposed to post this as part of a make-up cook-at-home assignment. (I thought she had said my product was sufficient, but later mentioned she never saw the story. Oopsie! I still made an A despite the missed points, though.) A promise is a promise, albeit a late one. Here you go, Chef C.
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Awfully pretty, isn't it? Too bad it had some fatal errors...
Making cheese, I don’t think it too scandalous to say, is a bit of a glimpse into the mind of God. Or witchcraft, I guess, depending on whose side you take. (Vegans, make your joke here.)
You start with such a completely plain, innocuous substance as milk, throw some other stuff at it, wave your hands in a prescribed motion, and, poof, you have cheese.
Okay, so it’s not quite that simplistic. But it is quite amazing.
In Garde Manger class, we’ve spent a handful of weeks on fresh (unaged) cheeses, because they’re quick, useful, and a good starting point for learning the ropes.
I showed you earlier our fresh lemon cheese, which is somewhere between ricotta and cream cheese in consistency. It was amazingly delicious and made a lovely filling for the sweet applications we used that day.
The next week, I was awfully sick with one of those might-as-well-be-the-flu-but-it’s-not sort of things. I went to class and powered through the lecture, but the chef knew better than to put my snotty, contagious self in the kitchen. I guess since I bothered to show up, she felt sorry for me and let me take some lab work home.
The project: Mozzarella.
I remember passing through the kitchen once last year when this class was doing this same project. Nibbly bliss!
Here’s the process, for those wishing to try at home. It’s awfully fun:
Bocconcini (Mozzarella balls)
(Adapted from Garde Manger: The Art and Craft of the Cold Kitchen by Culinary Institute of America)
- 5 1/2 oz. salt
- 1 gallon water
- 2 lbs. cheese curd, cut into 1/2″ cubes
Right off the bat, I know you’re asking yourself, where in the world do I buy cheese curd?
Cheese curds courtesy of Ben E. Keith and Pulaski Tech.
Honestly, we were just given the curds, purchased from Ben E. Keith (a restaurant/foodservice supplier), to save time. But the awesome folks over at Fermentables, who offer supplies to make beer, wine and cheese at home, sell an inexpensive cheesemaking kit with the goods (rennet, for example) to make your own. Easy peasy.
But I’m leaving it to you to read those instructions on the package.
Properly diced cheese curds.
Add salt to your water, and bring it to 160 degrees. Then take the pot off the heat.
And here’s where I made a BIG ol’ mess.
The instructions in our book say to put the curds in a colander and lower it into the water so the cheese is covered. Thinking myself clever, I used a wire colander. Not so smart. Let’s just say that half the cheese stayed with the device, which had to go in the trash.
See that wire colander? I miss it.
Then I dumped the curds directly in the water. We were instructed to use chopsticks to pull the cheese into the smooth strings that make this cheese what it is. Turns out I overcooked my curds, and I ended up with something more like rubber bands than delicious cheese.
I carried on anyway, laying the stretched curds out into a long log atop some plastic wrap. This is supposed to be only 1 inch in diameter, but since they were so rubbery, mine were about 1 1/2″ or 2″. Oh well.
Twist the ends of the plastic wrap so the entire log is wrapped well, then get out some thin twine or, as I used, dental floss. You’d probably be better off to not use mint flavored, though. Cut 5″ pieces and tie off the log into uniform spheres. The curd strands will have enough pressure now to form solid balls.
Put your strand of cheesy pearl goodness into a large bowl and place it in the fridge for a few hours, or overnight. Unwrap, cut between the balls if necessary, and enjoy.
Honesty time: Mine wasn’t that great. It was a little too much the consistency of one of those hi-bounce balls you get in a grocery store vending machine. But other than that, it was fantastic. :/
If they’d turned out better, they would have done well in my marinade, the juices from some spicy roasted grapes (you read that right) I made the same evening. That would have all come together into something fab, even if I don’t know just what.
Despite my difficulties, the process was actually pretty fun. As with most cooking experiences, you may have to screw it up at least once before you can make it really fantastic. I’ll definitely do it again.
Back in the Saddle Again…One Last Time
Today, I start my last semester as a student at Pulaski Technical College Arkansas Culinary School.
I specify “as a student,” because I would love to come back as a graduate assistant, or whatever iteration that becomes in the new facility. This school has become a part of me, both reflecting my passions and giving me the means to carry them to others.
I only needed two more classes to graduate: American Regional Cuisine and an elective of my choosing (I chose Cakes and Cake Decorating, mainly because I didn’t get to take as many baking courses as I would have liked). Also, these classes are both at night, which is gonna save me bazillions in childcare this semester.
I’m still not entirely sure what I’m gonna do when I “grow up,” but writing, teaching and cooking will always be a part of it. Some opportunities have drifted up here and there. This is just as I un-planned it; the more I tried to make concrete plans, the more it looked like what other folks would want/expect me to do with a degree in culinary arts. Those plans were expensive, too, usually involving some sort of storefront, staff and other junk I don’t really don’t want to deal with, at least not right now.
So.
For one last semester, I put on the white jacket and black pants, PTC/ACS black baseball cap (yecch) and skid-proof black shoes.
I feel just a little like I did at the end of high school or college (the first time). The future is bright, full of opportunity. And this time, I’m just old enough, just young enough, just experienced-in-life enough to make something really cool happen.
Stay tuned.
UPDATE: Okay, already…I know good and well that several email subscribers to this blog are instructors and students. So why didn’t anyone tell me that I had the start date wrong? HA! I must have written the late registration date down. Or something.
I seriously ironed my coat, got a sitter, and went to school today, only to find that it doesn’t start until NEXT WEEK. Geesh. I started to delete this, but no. Go ahead and laugh at with me.
Breaking News: Arkansas Culinary School to Stay Put
The board at PTC has voted to continue with their original plans to build the new culinary school facility next to the existing south campus on I-30. Tune in to Channel 4 this afternoon to see me talk about it. More later in this space.
Asparagus They’ll Actually Eat
Pre-roasted beauties. See how pretty and green they are if you blanch them?
As you might have noticed, I’m totally blowing it lately on keeping you updated on, well, anything.
That’s pretty much because I’m totally NOT blowing it at school. In fact, considering a semester of sick kids and sick me, I’m kicking butt. Or at least I feel like I am this week.
On top of all my busy school schedule this week, I needed something snazzy to take to a women’s pre-holiday get-together tonight. I made an asparagus appetizer from my Banquets & Catering class, with my own little twists.
Oh, I know, you don’t think you like asparagus, or you know that your family will turn up their noses if you bring it out for Thanksgiving. (Wait, what? Thanksgiving is coming? I’m so not ready.) But I’m pretty sure these will change your mind.
Post-roast aspies.
The problem with most asparagus is that it’s overcooked. This method ensures green, crisp yumminess, plus some roasty goodness to boot. And you get some yummy fat, too.
The recipe:
Soppressata-Wrapped Roasted Asparagus
- 100 stems asparagus (or whatever it is you call an individual asparagus)
- 50 very thin slices of soppressata (I used Applegate Farms from Whole Foods; salami or prosciutto works, too.)
- Kosher salt
- Freshly ground pepper
- 1 lemon
Gently bend each asparagus until it naturally breaks the woody stems away. If you’re in a hurry, you could go ahead and cut the whole lot in about the same place the first handful broke, but you’ll probably have some woody stuff left here and there. Meanwhile, get a large pot of salted water boiling. Near the stove, have a large bowl of ice water ready, along with some paper towels laid out on the countertop or on trays.
Leave the asparagus in the boiling water for just a minute or two, or until it just gets bright green. You might push them around a bit to make sure they all get cooked evenly. Immediately pull them out with a spider (I used a combination of tongs and the large slotted thingy that comes with a Fry Daddy), drain as best you can, and dump them in the ice water.
Somewhere in the middle of this, answer the door to find a punk kid claiming to put himself through UCA and help Arizona-I-mean-Arkansas Children’s Hospital selling $55 magazine subscriptions. Oh, that was just me? Huh.
Pull the cooled asparagus out of the ice water (more quickly than I did, lest the vitamins leech out) and dry them as best you can on the paper towels. Word to your mother, you just learned to blanch and shock! Don’t you feel like an Iron Chef?
Set up two sheet pans lined with parchment paper or Silpats. Wrap two stems (pieces? stalks?) of asparagus with one piece of soppressata. Lay this on the pan seam-down, repeat until all are done. Season lightly (the meat is plenty salty) with kosher salt and pepper. Zest the lemon and sprinkle over the whole deal.
Roast in a 350 degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until the soppressata is just crisp.
Delish! Even if you don’t think you like asparagus.
House-Made Cheese and Bubble Gum Pink Ravioli
Our finished plate of pink pasta, with lemon cheese filling, strawberry and white chocolate sauces.
In Garde Manger class, we’ve been studying cheeses and making a few of them ourselves.
There’s something about this that makes me giddy. I told several people, “It’s like, making food. From nothing.”
Last week, our group made a fresh (meaning unaged) lemon cheese, and our homework assignment was to develop a dessert recipe to prepare the next week. We decided to make a dessert lasagna, using a strawberry puree (tomato sauce), chopped chocolate (ground beef) and the cheese. There was some fiddling around with gluten-free options for my sake, but the supplies for such things are low at the school. So we decided to go with phyllo dough, making it more of a napoleon.
This week, the chef turned us loose to create our goodies. We made the napoleon, as pictured above. The sauce was particularly fun…I got creative (er, bossy) with my group and added balsamic vinegar and red wine to some strawberry puree and sugar, and cooked it down. De.LISH.
So, long story short, we present our napoleon to the chef, and she loves it. We think we’re done. We mention that the original idea was using real pasta, and she says…”Okay, make me one like that.” Oooookayyy…
No problem, actually. This class is fun because we get to play and make stuff up on the fly, even if the beginning is a prompt from the instructor. One of my group partners is quite adept at making pasta, so he whipped up a quick batch, adding some red food coloring as the instructor requested.
We decide on making raviolis, filling them with the lemon cheese and dressing them with two sauces, the strawberry and a white chocolate sauce. While Pasta-Guy and I have done this, the other two students hadn’t, so much of the rest of their class was spent playing and filling. PG and I boiled the pasta and finished the sauces and the plate, which turned out pretty nice, considering its impromptu provenance.
It was also a fanTAStic week in Food IV. And that is saying a lot. Things are looking up; I may know how to cook after all. More on that later.
Happy cooking!
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Food Production 4 Dishes
Maple Glazed Salmon with Cranberry Chutney and Succotash and Cheddar Souffle
This semester is clipping right along at Pulaski Technical College Arkansas Culinary School. Next semester will be my last.
I have mixed feelings about that. Although I’m soooo ready to be done, I really love the classes, the chefs, and the opportunities I have in labs to learn and experiment that I may not have again. (I mean, really, I want to make pate again, but buying all that equipment, not to mention the ingredients?)
My most demanding class right now, as I have said, is Food Production 4, as it should be. This class is the culmination of everything we’ve learned in culinary school. It’s usually taken in one’s final semester, but just due to scheduling, I have just two more classes to eek out from here.
So far, in this class, I’ve worked garde manger (pantry or “cold” station, where salads and such are made), front-of-house service, and a good bit of the grill station when acting as sous chef.
I’ve sent a few photos via Twitter (I’m more active there these days, due to my schedule), but I thought I’d share some photos here of our dishes from our Thursday night dinner service.
(Think I could use parentheses a little more? They’re my favorite vice.)
I believe we are booked solid for the remainder of the semester, but do check back next semester for lunch.
Enjoy!
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The Cure
After just a few seconds under the beet/horseradish cure, the salmon is stained a beautiful red.
No, I don’t mean that blissfully strange 80s band, nor do I mean a fix for what ails ya.
Unless what’s ailing ya is a hunger for something really salty and yummy.
In garde manger class this week, we studied curing, pickling, smoking and that sort of thing. In the days before refrigeration, these methods were used to preserve meats and other foods so they wouldn’t spoil and kill you. These days, they’re just paths to increased yumminess.
In the lab, we divided into groups, working on different projects. Ours made the assigned recipe for cured salmon with (get this) beet and horseradish. Don’t get me wrong; I love beets, and I can tolerate horseradish most of the time. But this was some powerful stuff. My mascara did not survive the grating process.
We placed the finished rub on the side of salmon (carefully checked for pinbones, of course), and I realized I should have taken an earlier process photo so you could see the lovely flesh. My fellow student just scraped off a bit, and the flesh was already stained a beautiful shade of red. Although I don’t think I’ll care for the pungency of this dish, the color and flavor of the beets will likely prove repeating at home.
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Norwegian Beet & Horseradish Cure
From Garde Manger: The Art and Craft of the Cold Kitchen, published by the Culinary Institute of America
- 1 salmon filet, skin on (3 lbs)
Cure Mix:
- 12 oz. finely chopped or grated raw beets
- 1 lb. grated fresh horseradish
- 6 oz. sugar
- 6 oz. kosher salt (don’t use table salt!)
- 1/2 oz. cracked black pepper
Remove pin bones and score the skin of the fish. Center the fish skin-side down on a large piece of cheesecloth or plastic wrap, inside a perforated pan atop a hotel pan. (Ghetto-fab home cook workaround: Get two cheap plastic storage containers and poke a zillion holes in one. Put the holey one inside the other one, and construct your fish inside the top one.)
Mix the cure ingredients and pack evenly over the salmon. Use less at the thinner end of the fish, toward the tail, to avoid overdrying. Wrap loosely with the cheesecloth or plastic wrap.
Refrigerate 3 days to cure. After third day, gently scrape off the cure. Slice and serve immediately, or wrap and refrigerate up to one week.
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After wrapping and putting our fish away to cure for a few days, the chef told us to create our own cure or brine for whatever meat may be in the school’s walk-in refrigerator. I was hoping for some pork, but there were only whole chickens.
No problem.
Always wanting to do something different, I came up with this: kosher salt, turbinado sugar, dry mustard, fenugreek, a bit of dry garlic, and finely ground black pepper. I spatchcocked the chicken (a fancy word for just cutting down the backbone and spreading the bird out flat) and coated both sides with the dry rub, then wrapped it with plastic wrap.
Not familiar with fenugreek? I wasn’t either, until I was a nursing mother some years ago. I took it as a supplement to (sorry dudes) boost milk supply. I was told you had the dose right when your skin is oddly perfumed with the smell of maple syrup. In fact, fenugreek is often used in synthetic maple syrup production because the smell is so similar. It’s a lovely sweet/savory spice frequently used in Indian cuisine.
My chicken will sit in a perforated pan for a day or two until the chef or a student she assigns will come wash off the rub and cook it. (If it sits in all that salt for a whole week, until our class meets again, it will be completely dried out and “cadaverous,” as she put it.) I hope I’ll get to try it and see how my blend worked out.
Another group worked on duck confit, something I’d like to try for myself soon. The duck pieces are slowly cooked while submerged in duck fat (I mean, really!). The whole thing gets cooled, and as long as the pieces stay submerged in the solidified fat, they can stay in the fridge for several months. Confit is seriously delicious, so I’ll have to tackle that one another time on my own.
This was one of those fun days in culinary school where we get to play and develop something on our own. Even the assigned recipe, despite the horseradish, was cool, because I feel confident I can now cure salmon at home.
Maybe I can carry some of this renewed confidence to Food IV restaurant service this Thursday night. I’m starting to feel like a whipped puppy in there. Not the chef’s fault…he’s just bringing out all the things I need to work on. **whispering to self: this is why we go to school. this is why we go to school.** :/
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Sammich Day at Garde Manger
If you know that my title rhymes, then you’re one step ahead in the culinary game. 
Yesterday was sandwich day in Garde Manger class. Each group made one of several types, including tea sandwiches, crostinis, croque monsieur, and (our group) muffaletta. I found it a little amusing that all of them except ours were dainty, pretty little things, and ours was this thick, meaty monster.
Natch, make that a delicious, olivey, thick, meaty monster.
Just a note: Chef C in this class hates waste. When I found that there was a huge pile of focaccia bread left over after hollowing out our sandwich, I thought I’d better come up with a use for it before she said something. I ended up with a quite unscripted savory bread pudding, with parmesan and a bit of paprika. When the chef and a fellow student praised it, I said, “Tell Chef G (from Food IV) so he’ll know I can actually cook something.”
I think that other class is giving me a complex. Anyway.
I’ll just leave you with photos of the sandwich deliciousness.
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