"So You Want To Be a Chef" By Anthony Bourdain

I admire Bourdain’s honest appraisal of himself, culinary world, and the chef career. Here is an EXCELLENT excerpt from his latest book "Medium Raw" addressing the debate of attending culinary school vs. learning in a kitchen the old fashioned way of working through the ranks. This should be mandatory reading for anyone considering embarking on a career as a chef



I am frequently asked by aspiring chefs, dreamers young and old, attracted by the lure of slowly melting shallots and caramelizing pork belly, or delusions of Food Network stardom, if they should go to culinary school. I usually give a long, thoughtful, and qualified answer.
But the short answer is “no.”
Let me save you some money. I was in the restaurant business for twenty-eight years—much of that time as an employer. I am myself a graduate of the finest and most expensive culinary school in the country, the CIA, and am as well a frequent visitor and speaker at other culinary schools. Over the last nine years, I have met and heard from many culinary students on my travels, have watched them encounter triumphs and disappointments. I have seen the dream realized, and— more frequently—I have seen the dream die.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not telling you that culinary school is a bad thing. It surely is not. I’m saying that you, reading this, right now, would probably be ill-advised to attend—and are, in all likelihood, unsuited for The Life in any case. Particularly if you’re any kind of normal.
But let’s say you’re determined. You’re planning on taking out a student loan and taking on a huge amount of debt. In many cases, from lenders associated with—or recommended by—your local culinary school. Ask yourself first: is this culinary school even any good? If you’re not going to the Culinary Institute of America, Johnson and Wales, or the French Culinary Institute, you should investigate this matter even more intently, because the fact is, when you graduate from the Gomer County Technical College of Culinary Arts, nobody hiring in the big leagues is going to give a shit. A degree from the best culinary schools is no guarantee of a good job. A degree from anywhere less than the best schools will probably be less helpful than the work experience you could have had, had you been out there in the industry all that time.
You’re about to take on $40,000 to $60,000 in debt training for an industry where—if you are lucky—you will, for the first few years, be making $10 to $12 dollars an hour. In fact, if you are really, really lucky—one of the few supremely blessed with talent, ability, and great connections deemed worthy enough to recommend you to one of the great kitchens of Europe or New York for your post-school apprenticeship—you will essentially be making nothing for the first couple of years. You will, once living expenses are factored in, probably be paying for the experience.
Should you be fortunate enough to be among the one-in-a-million young cooks taken on at a famous and respected restaurant like Arzak, in Spain (for example), this will truly be time and money well spent. If you perform well, you will return home never again needing a résumé. In this case, the investment of all your time and money and hard work will have paid off.
But the minute you graduate from school—unless you have a deep-pocketed Mommy and Daddy or substantial savings—you’re already up against the wall. Two nearly unpaid years wandering Europe or New York, learning from the masters, is rarely an option. You need to make money NOW. If that imperative prevails, requiring that you work immediately, for whomever will have you—once you embark on a career dictated by the need for immediate cash flow, it never gets any easier to get off the treadmill. The more money you get paid straight out of school, the less likely you are to ever run off and do a stage in the great kitchens of the world. Time cooking at Applebee’s may get you paid—but it’s a period best left blank on the résumé if you’re planning on ever moving to the bigs. It may just as well have never happened. Country clubs? Hotel kitchens? These are likely employers straight out of school—and they promise a pretty decent, relatively stable career if you do well. It’s a good living—with (unlike most of the restaurant business) reasonable hours and working conditions—and most hotels and country clubs offer the considerable advantage of health insurance and benefits. But that sector of the trade is like joining the mafia. Once you enter the warm fold of their institutional embrace, it’s unlikely you’ll ever leave. Once in—rarely out.
If it matters to you, watch groups of chefs at food and wine festivals—or wherever industry people congregate and drink together after work. Observe their behaviors—as if spying on animals in the wild. Notice the hotel and country club chefs approach the pack. Immediately, the eyes of the pack will glaze over a little bit at the point of introduction. The hotel or country club species will be marginalized, shunted to the outside of the alpha animals. With jobs and lives that are widely viewed as being cushier and more secure, they enjoy less prestige—and less respect.
You could, of course, opt for the “private chef” route upon graduating. But know that for people in the industry, the words “private” and “chef” just don’t go together. To real chefs, such a concept doesn’t even exist. A private “chef” is domestic help, period. A glorified butler. Somewhere slightly below “food stylist” and above “consultant” on the food chain. It’s where the goofs who wasted a lot of money on a culinary education only to find out they couldn’t hack it in the real world end up.
How old are you?  Nobody will tell you this, but I will: If you’re thirty-two years old and considering a career in professional kitchens? If you’re wondering if, perhaps, you are too old? Let me answer that question for you: Yes. You are too old.
If you’re planning on spending big bucks to go to culinary school at your age, you’d better be doing it for love—a love, by the way, that will be, almost without a doubt, unreciprocated.
By the time you get out of school—at thirty-four, even if you’re fucking Escoffier—you will have precious few useful years left to you in the grind of real-world working kitchens. That’s if you’re lucky enough to even get a job.
At thirty-four, you will immediately be “Grandpa” or “Grandma” to the other—inevitably much, much younger, faster-moving, more physically fit—cooks in residence. The chef—also probably much younger—will view you with suspicion, as experience has taught him that older cooks are often dangerously set in their ways, resistant to instruction from their juniors, generally slower, more likely to complain, get injured, call in sick, and come with inconvenient baggage like “normal” family lives and responsibilities outside of the kitchen. Kitchen crews work best and happiest when they are tight—when they operate like a long-touring rock band—and chances are, you will be viewed, upon showing up with your knife roll and your résumé—as simply not being a good fit, a dangerous leap of faith, hope, or charity by whoever was dumb enough to take a chance on you. That’s harsh. But it’s what they’ll be thinking.
Am I too fat to be a chef? Another question you should probably ask yourself.
This is something they don’t tell you at admissions to culinary school, either—and they should. They’re happy to take your money if you’re five foot seven inches and two hundred fifty pounds, but what they don’t mention is that you will be at a terrible, terrible disadvantage when applying for a job in a busy kitchen. As chefs know (literally) in their bones (and joints), half the job for the first few years—if not the entirety of your career—involves running up and down stairs (quickly), carrying bus pans loaded with food, and making hundreds of deep-knee bends a night into low-boy refrigerators. In conditions of excruciatingly high heat and humidity of a kind that can cause young and superbly fit cooks to falter. There are the purely practical considerations as well: kitchen work areas—particularly behind the line— being necessarily tight and confined . . . Bluntly put, can the other cooks move easily around your fat ass? I’m only saying it. But any chef considering hiring you is thinking it. And you will have to live it.
If you think you might be too fat to hack it in a hot kitchen? You probably are too fat. You can get fat in a kitchen—over time, during a long and glorious career. But arriving fat from the get-go? That’s a hard—and narrow—row to hoe.
If you’re comforting yourself with the dictum “Never trust a thin chef,” don’t. Because no stupider thing has ever been said. Look at the crews of any really high-end restaurants and you’ll see a group of mostly whippet-thin, under-rested young pups with dark circles under their eyes: they look like escapees from a Japanese prison camp—and are expected to perform like the Green Berets.
If you’re not physically fit? Unless you’re planning on becoming a pastry chef, it is going to be very tough for you. Bad back? Flat feet? Respiratory problems? Eczema? Old knee injury from high school? It sure isn’t going to get any better in the kitchen.
Male, female, gay, straight, legal, illegal, country of origin—who cares? You can either cook an omelet or you can’t. You can either cook five hundred omelets in three hours—like you said you could, and like the job requires—or you can’t. There’s no lying in the kitchen. The restaurant kitchen may indeed be the last, glorious meritocracy—where anybody with the skills and the heart is welcomed. But if you’re old, or out of shape—or were never really certain about your chosen path in the first place—then you will surely and quickly be removed. Like a large organism’s natural antibodies fighting off an invading strain of bacteria, the life will slowly push you out or kill you off. Thus it is. Thus it shall always be.
The ideal progression for a nascent culinary career would be to, first, take a jump straight into the deep end of the pool. Long before student loans and culinary school, take the trouble to find out who you are.
Are you the type of person who likes the searing heat, the mad pace, the never-ending stress and melodrama, the low pay, probable lack of benefits, inequity and futility, the cuts and burns and damage to body and brain—the lack of anything resembling normal hours or a normal personal life?
Or are you like everybody else? A normal person?
Find out sooner rather than later. Work—for free, if necessary—in a busy kitchen. Any kitchen that will have you will do—in this case, a busy Applebee’s or T.G.I. Friday’s or any old place will be fine. Anybody who agrees to let your completely inexperienced ass into their kitchen for a few months—and then helpfully kicks it repeatedly and without let-up—will suffice. After six months of dishwashing, prep, acting as the bottom-rung piss-boy for a busy kitchen crew—usually while treated as only slightly more interesting than a mouse turd—if you still like the restaurant business and think you could be happy among the ranks of the damned? Then, welcome.
At this point, having established ahead of time that you are one fucked-up individual—that you’d never be happy in the normal world anyway—culinary school becomes a very good idea. But choose the best one possible. If nothing else, you’ll come out of culinary school with a baseline (knowledge and familiarity with techniques). The most obvious advantage of a culinary education is that from now on, chefs won’t have to take time out of their busy day to explain to you what a fucking “brunoise” is. Presumably, you’ll know what they mean if they shout across the room at you that you should braise those lamb necks. You’ll be able to break down a chicken, open an oyster, filet a fish. Knowing those things when you walk in the door is not absolutely necessary—but it sure fucking helps.
When you do get out of culinary school, try to work for as long as you can possibly afford in the very best kitchens that will have you—as far from home as you can travel. This is the most important and potentially invaluable period of your career. And where I fucked up mine.
I got out of culinary school and the world seemed my oyster. Right away, I got, by the standards of the day, what seemed to be a pretty good paying job. More to the point, I was having fun. I was working with my friends, getting high, getting laid, and, in general, convincing myself that I was quite brilliant and talented enough.
I was neither.
Rather than put in the time or effort—then, when I had the chance, to go work in really good kitchens—I casually and unthinkingly doomed myself to second-and (mostly) third-and fourth-tier restaurant kitchens forever. Soon there was no going back. No possibility of making less money. I got older, and the Beast that needed to be fed got bigger and more demanding—never less.
Suddenly it was ten years later, and I had a résumé that was, on close inspection, unimpressive at best. At worst, it told a story of fucked-up priorities and underachievement. The list of things I never learned to do well is still shocking, in retrospect. The simple fact is that I would be—and have always been—inadequate to the task of working in the kitchens of most of my friends, and it is something I will have to live with. It is also one of my greatest regrets. There’s a gulf the size of an ocean between adequate and finesse. There is, as well, a big difference between good work habits (which I have) and the kind of discipline required of a cook at Robuchon. What limited me forever were the decisions I made immediately after leaving culinary school.
That was my moment as a chef, as a potential adult, and I let it pass. For better or worse, the decisions I made then about what I was going to do, whom I was going to do it with and where, set me on the course I stayed on for the next twenty years. If I hadn’t enjoyed a freakish and unexpected success with Kitchen Confidential, I’d still be standing behind the stove of a good but never great restaurant at the age of fifty-three. I would be years behind in my taxes, still uninsured, with a mouthful of looming dental problems, a mountain of debt, and an ever more rapidly declining value as a cook.
If you’re twenty-two, physically fit, hungry to learn and be better, I urge you to travel—as far and as widely as possible. Sleep on floors if you have to. Find out how other people live and eat and cook. Learn from them—wherever you go. Use every possible resource you have to work in the very best kitchens that will have you—however little (if anything) they pay—and relentlessly harangue every possible connection, every great chef whose kitchen offers a glimmer of hope of acceptance. Keep at it. A three-star chef friend in Europe reports receiving month after month of faxes from one aspiring apprentice cook—and responding with “no” each time. But finally he broke down, impressed by the kid’s unrelenting, never wavering determination. Money borrowed at this point in your life so that you can afford to travel and gain work experience in really good kitchens will arguably be better invested than any student loan. A culinary degree—while enormously helpful—is only helpful to a point. A year working at Mugaritz or L’Arpège or Arzak can transform your life—become a direct route to other great kitchens. All the great chefs know each other. Do right by one and they tend to hook you up with the others.
Which is to say: if you’re lucky enough to be able to do the above, do not fuck up.
Like I said, all the great chefs know each other.
Let me repeat, by the way, again, that I did none of the things above.
It’s a little sad sometimes when I look out at a bookstore audience and see young fans of Kitchen Confidential, for whom the book was a validation of their worst natures. I understand it, of course. And I’m happy they like me.
But I’m a little more comfortable when the readers are late-career hackers and journeymen, like I was when I wrote the book. I like that they relate to the highs and lows, the frustrations and absurdities, that they, too, can look back—with a mixture of nostalgia and very real regret—on sexual liaisons on cutting boards and flour sacks, late-night coke jags, the crazy camaraderie that seems to come only in the busiest hash-house restaurants—or failing ones. I wrote the book for them in the first place. And it’s too late for them anyway.
But the young culinary students, thousands and thousands of them—new generations of them every year, resplendent in their tattoos and piercings—I worry that some of them might have missed the point.
At no point in Kitchen Confidential, that I can find, does it say that cocaine or heroin were good ideas. In fact, given the book’s many episodes of pain, humiliation, and being constantly broke-ass, one would think it almost a cautionary tale. Yet, at readings and signings, I am frequently the inadvertent recipient of small packets of mysterious white powder; bindles of cocaine; fat, carefully rolled joints of local hydro, pressed into my palm or slipped into my pocket. These inevitably end up in the garbage—or handed over to a media escort. The white powders because I’m a recovered fucking addict—and the weed ’cause all I need is one joint, angel dust–laced by some psycho, to put me on TMZ, running buck-naked down some Milwaukee street with a helmet made from the stretched skin of a butchered terrier pulled down over my ears.  Smoking weed at the end of the day is nearly always a good idea—but I’d advise ambitious young cooks against sneaking a few drags mid-shift at Daniel. If you think smoking dope makes you more responsive to the urgent calls for food from your expeditor, then God bless you, you freak of nature you. If you’re anything like me, though, you’re probably only good for a bowl of Crunchberries and a Simpsons rerun.
On the other hand, if you’re stuck heating up breakfast burritos at Chili’s—or dunking deep-fried macaroni at TGI McFuckwad’s? Maybe you need that joint.
Treating despair with drugs and alcohol is a time-honored tradition—I’d just advise you to assess honestly if it’s really as bad and as intractable a situation as you think. Not to belabor the point, but if you look around you at the people you work with, many of them are—or will eventually be—alcoholics and drug abusers. All I’m saying is you might ask yourself now and again if there’s anything else you wanted to do in your life.
I haven’t done heroin in over twenty years, and it’s been a very long time as well since I found myself sweating and grinding my teeth to the sound of tweeting of birds outside my window.
There was and is nothing heroic about getting off coke and dope.
There’s those who do—and those who don’t.
I had other things I still wanted to do. And I saw that I wasn’t going to be doing shit when I was spending all my time and all my money on coke or dope—except more coke and dope.
I’m extremely skeptical of the “language of addiction.” I never saw heroin or cocaine as “my illness.” I saw them as some very bad choices that I walked knowingly into. I fucked myself—and, eventually, had to work hard to get myself un-fucked.
And I’m not going to tell you here how to live your life.
I’m just saying, I guess, that I got very lucky.
And luck is not a business model.

Bridges Restaurant, Amsterdam (Sjoerd LCB Classmate)

Many reasons to celebrate today, to include Sjoerd and Jayne's 7th Anniversary, led us to Bridges Restaurant for a taste of fine dining. This restaurant is within the Sofitel hotel and focused on seafood as its specialty. Tonight we opted for a 6 course Chef's tasting menu with wine pairing for each course. Upon seating we were presented with an Arrive' which consisted of a cube of salmon with wasabi and ginger crystals, olives ,and puff pastry mozzarella cheese stick served along with the most delicious Champagne I have ever tasted. Next came the amuse bouche, a sardine with tomato foam on julienned red and yellow pepper topped with a pea shoot garnish. The following course came from the raw bar, an arrangement of raw oysters from Bordeaux, Normandy, and Zeeland (Netherlands). Also, there were 3 shot glasses each filled with a different type of fish or shell fish, herbs, and sauces.

We were then served a starter of lobster prepared cleverly with Indian ingredients. The  half lobster, resting on shiso leaves, was coated with a tandoori sauce, and presented along a coriander pesto sauce,  a yogurt/cucumber sauce, and Nan. The presentation was beautiful.

The main course was a monk fish on a bed of pea risotto, and was coated with a  mussel beurre blanc foam and tempura asparagus.

Finally, after 2 1/2 hours of eating, we were greeted with the dessert pictured to the right. All in all it was a feast, a treat, and a fantastic session for 3 people highly interested in food to discuss and explore fine cuisine. After the meal we managed to get a tour of the kitchen and met the "back of the house". What a night! I'll remember this meal for a long time. Thanks Sjoerd and Jayne for arranging this fantastic night! 

Amsterdam (Sjoerd LCB Classmate)

I'm having fun in Amsterdam visiting Sjoerd and Jayne. I'll keep the writing brief and just share a few pics of my stay so far.

Happy Hour, then went back home to cook

dinner for Jayne

Squid Ink

Rolled out and drying on a broomstick

Skate

Sjoerd demonstrating a Dutch Cooking

technique

Plated

Jayne made dessert

Cook for Fun, Fly for Money

My decision has been made. As nice as it is to fantasize about cooking professionally, the reality is that the flying job provides (and will continue to provide) me the income and flexible scheduling that has allowed me to pursue my passion for cooking. It has allowed me free time to practice at home, to study in Paris, and enough time to do a 10 week internship. It would be easy to throw caution into the wind and flow with the adventure of the unknown if I was fresh out of college, but age brings about such boring virtues as responsibility and accountability. Additionally, I am only a couple of years away from being eligible for retirement and it would be highly negligent to forgo all of those benefits.

So, no Intermediate Cuisine this November. Currently, it's difficult to justify the expenditure of going to France, if it's only as a hobby. Perhaps I will attend in the future. In the meantime, I will continue to hone my kitchen skills by cooking for friends and family. Sometimes, my own kitchen can be the greatest classroom. In the meantime, I can "experience" the professional kitchen world through the eyes of my friends like Sjoerd, or Will who have continued on to work in the real world.

On a more upbeat note, I am excited for my Basic Cuisine friend Alan who will begin Intermediates in one week and plans to follow that with the Intensive Superior in November. Congrats!

I am heading to Amsterdam in 2 days to visit my friend Sjoerd and his wife Jayne. It'll be nice to get a first hand account of his adventures in a real kitchen.

To Cook or Not to Cook, That is the Question!

Not to imply that my dilemma is as burdensome as the one faced by Hamlet, but at times it does seem to weigh me down. I am paralyzed with this seemingly simple decision whether or not to go to France this November to continue my culinary education. Although the above title may imply otherwise, I will always cook. What is at question is "in what fashion" will I cook? After my 10 week stage in a Michelin restaurant, it became clear to me that working in a restaurant kitchen may not be the path for me (although I won't close that door quite yet). As much as my mind was intrigued and challenged, my body just didn't like the physical punishment the job demands. Catering,  being a private chef, and instructing do not interest me either. But I still have a huge appetite to learn more about the art of French Cuisine. Where does that leave me? Am I simply destined to cook just for myself and for those around me? Maybe the center of the struggle is the disappointment that all of this may lead to no place new professionally. Which brings me back to the Paris decision. The investment to attend Intermediate Cuisine is only fully realized if one couples it with ultimately attending Superior Cuisine. Given my financial responsibilities, Is it wise to make such a financial investment in something that may only bring personal satisfaction? I suppose that only I can answer that question.

just thinking out aloud....advice? comments? wisdom?

Del Posto, NYC (Julia LCB Classmate)

It has been a week for getting together with LCB classmates. Today it was lunch with Steve and Julia at Del Posto in NYC. Del Posto is a Mario Batali 1 Star Michelin restaurant on 10th Ave in the meat packing district. Julia and I became fast friends when we found ourselves in the same practical group among a bunch of young 20 somethings. We had shared a few meals together in Paris and had last met in January at the restaurant Boulevard in San Francisco where I had met Steve and Julia for a nice dinner.

It was great to meet once again over this delicious 3 course meal. Regrettably, I have no pictures to share (how could I forget my camera!). It was lots of catching up and talking about food, restaurants, and LCB classmates as we worked our way through the fixed price lunch. By the way, this is a great deal for $29! I had done my research on yelp and the consensus is that the fixed price lunch is the way to go. I had a lobster salad for the antipasti (Additional $10), the grilled lamb chop with ceci and swiss chard ragu for the secondi, and the  chocolate ricotta tortino for the dolci. The service was impeccable with a team of waiters hovering about at the appropriate times. Great lunch!

It makes my layovers so much fun when I can actually meet friends and share such great dining experience with them. Julia has no plans to further attend LCB, but as she cooks in her own kitchen she is realizing, as I have, the depth of the education we received in Basic Cuisine. One of these days we'll have to get together and cook.

Willis Seafood, Healdsburg (Alan LCB Classmate)

I always maintained that one of the most rewarding aspects of my culinary education in Paris was the people that I met. Today I made a trip up to my old town of Healdsburg. I lived there for 2 years in mid 2000's and it was fitting to go back to meet my old LCB classmate Alan (the "big guy" as I would refer to him in my posts). Alan is in Northern CA for a week from his home in Wyoming. It was great seeing him. We managed to meet at one of my favorite restaurants Willi's Seafood which is actually not really a seafood place but a tapas restaurant. What a place to meet a fellow foodie! As the plates of delicious tapas paraded across our table we talked about the past and the future of our culinary worlds. It was great fun rehashing some of our favorite memories of LCB, what we have done with our acquired skills since, and our course for the future. What fun!
It's a possibility that Alan will be going back for Intermediates this year!

5 Ninth NYC

In the tradition of exploring good food in NY I decided to head down to the West Village Meat Packing District to try dinner at the trendy and rustic 5 9th with my friend Al. I had been here before with Beth for a drink. The Meat Packing District, as the name 
implies is where all the meat butchering and packing took place in NYC and was home to over 250 butcheries in its day. Over time, the area fell into disrepair and became a haven for sex clubs, and prostitution. This was until the 1990's when some visionary developers and retailers began transforming the area into a hip and funky area laden with boutiques, clubs, and restaurants. It's a real cool area to visit. For foodies, it's also the home to Chelsea Market where the Food Network resides and films their Iron Chef series. OK...back to 5 Ninth:

5 Ninth stands for Building #5 on 9th Avenue. It's a rustic 3

story brownstone built in 1848. The first floor is the bar and a backyard garden with seating. The 2nd floor houses the dining room with 6 fireplaces, and the 3rd floor is candle lit lounge with chairs and sofas. The place has a very cool ambiance. I think it was voted as one of the hippest bar/restaurants of NYC in 2005. My buddy Al and I headed there for dinner. We sat at the window on the first floor (the window on the right in the above picture) which is elevated above the street with a bird's eye view of the happening on 9th Avenue. I ordered the grilled hanger steak with a cherry tomato, raisin, grilled oyster mushroom, frisee salad with white balsamic dressing. It was made perfectly. The meat was a perfect medium rare and the balsamic dressing was nicely balanced. Not the most sophisticated dish, but cooked very well. Yelp gives it 3 1/2 stars. Zagat rates it 19/22/18/$52 (food/decor/service/avg. cost). I would consider going again not because the food blew me away, but the whole package of ambiance, hip, and trendiness all combine to make for a nice dining experience on a summer night in NYC.

How Can I Eat This Crap???

I have tried so hard not to become some uppety food snob. The past year has been a culinary awakening with my studies in Paris and my subsequent education both with practicing at home and internship at the Michelin restaurant. Add to this the fact that I live smack dab in the middle of the California wine country surrounded by organic farms, farmer's markets, every ingredient imaginable, foodies, and some of the best restaurants in the country. I love good food made with fresh ingredients. It doesn't need to be elaborate. It could be a hamburger as long as it's done with a little finesse using quality ingredients. Which brings me to this very moment:

Here I am at my real job in a 757.
"Ding Ding". "Hi, this is Katie, you guys ready to eat?"
"yeah, what do you have?"
"Well, we have........."

It really doesn't matter what she says next. It's going to be crap. Today's crap just happened to be a beef dish. I wanted to say "bring up whatever disgusting preserved food imitation you have", but instead I said

"Thanks Katie, sure, bring them up"

After all, it's not Katie's fault that the airlines have such low food standards.

I play with the food like a kid who delays eating in hopes of making the food miraculously disappear. Pushing the bits of food around my tray makes me lose my appetite even more. As I stare at the food my mind slips........

"Ladies and Gentlemen this is your First Officer. As a special treat, I am coming to the cabin to cook up a nice meal for everyone. As I leave the flight deck and enter the cabin there is an eruption of cheers and clapping. The passengers have thrown their food trays on the floor in revolt. There is a chorus of knives and forks banging on the tray tables as everyone chants "food...food..food". I put on my Chef's jacket and get to work.........pans fly, I am pulling out all the stops with my sauce making skills, reduction, etc...I have saved the day. YES! The flying chef has arrived.

The flying chef quickly vanishes as I am jolted back to the reality of the sterile present;

"American 272, contact Miami Center on 132.4"
"Roger, 132.4, American 272"

I look down at my tray. The food is now cold and looks even less appetizing than before. I feel bad that an animal had to die to create such a sad meal. What a waste. I cover it up and put it on the floor for its final burial. R.I.P. Some ceviche or rice and beans with plantains might be good when I get to Miami. Then again, I can't wait to get back home to California for some real food in my own kitchen.

NASCAR in Town

The NASCAR weekend is here, not that I personally care about cars going around in circles, but it's a big deal in Sonoma for local business. The restaurant was expecting a fairly big night. Most of the chefs were there tonight and surprisingly they were happy to see me. It would be nice to think that I am loved, but the truth is that I am free labor and I think it helps everyone a little when I am there to help with the prep. The day began with the herbs. Damn, where was the new extern? I thought I had been promoted out of the herbs? A big night, meant a lot of herbs! After that I helped a little with the meat cook's mis en place which took me right up to the service.


I took my next task of hand shredding rabbit confit legs on the line until I needed more room at which time I went back to the prep room. Here I am almost finished with the task. The restaurant does a very nice recipe with this rabbit confit. After shredding it and ensuring that all the bones and cartilage are removed, a rillette is made along with black truffles. next a rabbit leg is stuffed with the truffled rabbit rillette and then wrapped in Caul fat. When the order is fired, it's cooked in a pan with some veal sauce. It's served with a ragout of morels, fava beans, and spring onions. Very tasty!

After this I went back on the line and helped out the Hot Apps. I mostly assisted with cooking some of the simpler apps and helped when things got busy. The service ended around 10pm. Not a bad day and night.

Shrimp Remoulade on toasted brioche

I went to dinner at my friennds' Ray and Kimberly last night. I wanted to make a simple yet elegant amuse bouche to take over. So I made my own version of the restaurant's shrimp remoulade on a toasted brioche garnished with a thin biased cut of english pea. Ray, who is a professional photographer, could not resist using his wife as a back drop to showcase my platter of amuse bouche.

Photos by Ray Rimmer



Ingredients:

2 Large prawns
1 TBS shallot finely minced
1 TBS parsley finely chopped
1 TBS tarragon finely chopped
1 TBS chervil finely chopped
1 TBS chives finely chopped
1 TBS your favorite white vinegar (I used champagne vinegar), or
1 TBS fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup creme fraiche (optional)
loaf of brioche
butter spray
salt/pepper

For the garnish:
1-2 English pea pod
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 tsp sugar

A few hours ahead do step 1.

1. cut the english pea pod thinly at a diagonal (on a bias). Place in a small bowl of lemon juice and sugar to flavor it. Do this a few hours in advance to infuse the flavor.

Preheat oven to 375

2. steam prawns until the shell is red. set aside and cool. When cool, peel off the shell. chop the meat until it's finely chopped.

3. cut 1/4" slices of the brioche. Cut off crust. Use small ring mold to cut into approximately 20 small disks. Place on a cookie sheet. Spray with butter. Place in oven and bake until the disk are golden. Should take 5-8 mins.

4. In a bowl mix prawns, herbs, shallots, vinegar or lemon juice, and just enough mayo and creme fraiche to coat but not become soggy. play with the proportion of the ingredients to create the taste that YOU like. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

5. place a dollop of the shrimp mix on a brioche disk, and garnish with a pea sliver. (could also use other garnishes that are simpler like a chervil leaf, or some chives, or any herb that you like)



Enjoy!

Tension in the Kitchen

I went in today for prep only (1:30-5:30). A new extern from Finland began work today on a 1 year externship. So guess who had to do the herbs? Not me! A new guinea pig is in town. I did some cutting and basic prep but I was given some more advanced tasks which was nice.

The big Chef was in today and his mood was sour. Some high profile nationally known Chefs and restauranteurs are coming to the restaurant this weekend and there is noticeable pressure on the Chef. At one point he snapped at the Sous Chef which left the rest of us rather silent. It was walking on egg shells for the rest of my shift. I was glad to get the hell out of there for the week.

It goes to show the huge amount of tension that resides squarely on the shoulders of a Chef. The Michelin star pressure must be immense. It is said that keeping the Star is more difficult than attaining one. Add to this the management of the the kitchen staff, the accountability and ordering of daily produce, the menu, dealing with problems, etc...and what you have is one stressed out dude! Makes you wonder why anyone would want to have the job of Executive Chef!

Thoughts to ponder.

Hot App's Assistant on the Line

It has been a week since I had gone to the restaurant. The airline job took 6 of my days last week. Summer is definitely here with all the summer travel woes, thunderstorm, and misconnects  which not only cause chaos for the passengers, but is also disruptive for the crews. So, I finally made it in today for some restaurant work. It was nice to see everyone. I did a full 5 hours of prep which included bagging veal and chicken stocks for the freezer, cutting some beans, peeling some tomatoes and shucking LOTS of English peas. The fun began when the service started.


The Hot App guy, after checking with the Sous Chef, asked me if I would like to help him on the line with some plating. He told me that if it got too busy, I could just watch. "Deal"! Well, we were slammed right out of the gate, so I watched him deal with all the simultaneous orders. He slowly worked me into the action by giving me small plating tasks, garnishing, saucing, along with a little bit of stove work by asking me to watch the risotto, the scallop, etc.. It was really the first night I have been a part of the line and "felt" the flow of it. Up until now, I have mostly observed during service, or helped prep things for various station if they ran out of their mis en place. Tonight was an entirely different experience actually being a part of the rhythm and mentally staying with the "dance" on the line.


 Afterwards, I thanked both the hot app and the Sous for including me. It was a long but rewarding day.

Balthazar, NY French Bistro

I am on a layover in NYC and wanted to explore the French Bistro scene and decided to have lunch at the famous Balthazar Bistro in the Village. The Chef de Cuisines are the well known Chef Riad Nasr and Chef Lee Hanson. The place oozes with with old world Parisian decor with its distressed mirrors and walls. Sitting in the dining room I felt as though I had been transported to La Belle France.

I ordered the signature "Balthazar" Salad which is haricots verts, asparagus, and mixed greens with a truffle vinaigrette dressing. It was well composed and delicious. Next I had the steak tartare which was equally tasty. I could detect the flavors of cornichons, capers, shallots, and parsley (very classic) and a slight hint of Tabasco. To finish the meal I had an espresso. All in all it was a great meal in a truly authentic French setting at a reasonable price.

Meat Cook's Assistant

What? No herbs today? "I want you to assist the meat cook with his mise en place" was the Sous Chef's direction today. That made me happy. I am eager for new things to chop, dice, julienne, batonette, or brunoise. As an intern with no real opportunity to serve on the line yet, I have been like the guy on the assembly line who performs a few tasks which contribute to the production of the final product without really seeing the big picture. However, I saw different pieces of the puzzle today. In fact, each day I have been exposed to something new along the assembly line allowing me to slowly get a glimpse at the big picture. Today the meat cook had my service at his disposal.  The picture above is the prep work I did for him. (the 3 colored batonettes in water are swiss chard stems)I also worked on the veal stock, prepped fruit for tomorrow's day service, and assembled one of the hot app's dishes for the service.

Chop Chop Chop

I've been at the restaurant only 3 times since my last post mostly due to my busy flying schedule at the airlines and a few badly needed days off. Nothing spectacular has happened at the restaurant to really write about. I have not been given any new duties, nor have I been suddenly thrust into a station during service. Actually, it's quite normal for an intern to do a lot of prep work. The status of the restaurant and its hierarchy has a lot to do with how much responsibility an intern is given (as well as the interns abilities of course). A Michelin rated restaurant such as this one is likely to give the intern lots of prep which equates to lots of chopping. Today was no different.

I arrived early for my 5 hours of prep work. I planned to leave just prior to service since I had to get up at 3:45 am tomorrow for my flight to JFK. The Chef pointed me to my usual herb and shallot prep. I headed to the walk-in and found the herbs. I picked the parsley leaves, rinsed them, and laid them out to dry. While drying, I did the same to the chervil. While they were also drying, I finely chopped the chives into paper thin little rings. Tarragon was my next victim. I picked the leaves and finely chopped them. By now, the parsley was dry enough to finely chop, followed by the chervil. Shallots came next. Finely sliced with a mandolin, and then finely chop them. OK...1 1/2 hours gone. My knife skills have really improved.

Chef had been making a salmon rillete while I was doing all of my herbs. I watched him artfully dismantle a huge salmon and portion it with a few swipes of his knife. He took some of the salmon that he had marinated in pernod and chopped it up, added some chopped up smoked salmon, some "mashed" butter, and then reached over and grabbed a little bit of all of my herbs and shallots and added them to the bowl. Salt & pepper. Mixed it all up and then told me he had a job for me. I thought: "All right! Something new".

My job was to roll the rillete in long pieces of cling wrap, and tie up the ends like a 16 inch sausage. The rillete "sausages" were then placed in an ice bath to set the butter. This would be used later for the amuse bouche. A slice of the rillete placed on a toasted brioche disk, with a chervil garnish. Looks easy, sounds easy, but it took a while to get it right. Fat rolls, skinny rolls, air bubbles, etc. I was beginning to feel like a spastic. Finally some repetition allowed me to get it right.

After that I did odd prep work for the Garde Manger and before I knew it 5 hours had elapsed (6pm) and it was time to leave. I said my goodnights and headed out to the fresh air and sunshine. I enjoyed it!

Goodnight Chef!

I went in yesterday and announced that "slave boy is here"! The big Chef and 2 of the Sous Chefs were at work. "What do you have for me today Chef?" I asked the most senior Sous Chef. "Let's start with the herbs" was his reply. I wanted to say "roger", but I remembered that I am in the kitchen and not the cockpit, so I said "ro..I mean yes Chef".

I set up my station at the prep table, knives, cutting board with wet paper towel underneath to anchor it, a rinsing bowl, a hotel pan, my water bottle, and my trusty scraper which I am addicted to. I grabbed the herbs and went to work. This is only my 5th day as an intern, but there is nothing like repetitious cutting to improve knife skills. I have really improved. No cuts yet! although I did slice a piece of my thumbnail and the underlying flesh with a peeler 2 days ago. Ops normal for a kitchen.

Chopping puts me in a zen state. Once I find a rhythm, my mind relaxes and I slip into a meditative state. That's why I've never gone for the kitchen gadgets that chop or dice. I just love to use my knife and chop away. The mood in the kitchen was happy. Almost all of the cooks are under 32, with most in their 20's. Their banter is witty, reflective of their age, and almost always a parody form some movie, commercial, or TV show. This is where I feel a little bit of the grand pa. I have no idea what some of their chatter is about. Pretty funny actually. I have become the guy I used to make fun of when I was younger.  They're well humored about it.

"All finished with the herbs, what's next Chef?" "how about vacuum packing the rhubarb, whip some cream and put it in a 9 pan, and thinly slice some snap peas on a bias and put them in a deli cup ?". About 30 minutes later, "what's next Chef?". "Go help the Grade Manger with his set up". Garde Manger is typically the junior position in the kitchen and is responsible for the amuse bouche, salads, and cold apps. So, I went to help him. The kid working the station put me to work. He asked me to make the amuse bouche which was a shrimp remoulade. I had to finely chop some shrimp, and mix it with herbs, vinegar, mayo, shallots, salt and pepper. This kid displayed a lot of maturity when he told me to mix everything in a ratio that would best balance the flavor! Cool! This 22 year old kid is confident enough to give me some autonomy.

Feeling that I should dispense my slave labor equally around the kitchen, I asked another Sous Chef "what's next?". "Go get the clams that I just baked and use your beak to cut out the clams form the shells, put them in a tall deli, fill with clam juice and put in walk-in". "Roger..damn it..I mean Yes Chef". Guy's thinking I am a total nerd.

45 minutes of clam scraping. By this time, the prep table is empty except for me, as all the cooks are finishing their prep on the line with an hour before service. The senior Sous Chef walks by and says "you can bring the clams on the line and do it there if you want". It was a nice offer to include me  but I was enjoying my quiet space so I politely declined.

The service began. It was to be a very quiet night with only 30 covers. I walked station to station to observe, assist, and take notes. Not much going on. About an hour and a half before end of service I decided that I might leave early. The Sous agreed.."get out of here". I went to the back and changed. As I walked by the line and said goodnight to everyone, the Big Chef who is stoic and quiet said to me: "Goodnight Chef".

WOW. I know that they all call each other Chef, but for THE Chef to say this to me was a real show of recognition and respect. As I walked to my car I couldn't help but have a smile on my face.

Veal Stock

Oh Yeah! After and hour or so of chopping the usual herbs, I was given the assignment of making (or at least set up for day 1) the veal stock. 100 Lbs of bones and knuckles, 15 onions, 25 carrots, 2 bunches of celery, 4 large cans of tomato paste, spices, etc...I first soaked the bones in cold water (degorger) to rid of impurities, then browned them in the oven to get some color and flavor, then I filled up 2 huge stock pots with all the ingredients and topped off with water, and placed on heat. Skim, skim, skim, and more skim. Tomorrow, the stock will be drained, strained, and the juice will be reduced. The bones and mirepoix refilled with water for a second batch. That will also be drained and strained. The 2 liquids will be combined and reduced some more for the eventual veal stock. the restaurant does this every Monday and Tuesday.

It was a slow night, so I received lots of instructional tidbits

from everyone as there was slack time on the line. I have never had pork cheek before. Upon hearing this, the sous had one fired for me to try. I was expecting just a piece of meat as a sample, but the hot app guy prepared me the entire dish and served me the same plate presentation used for service. It was awesome. The cheeks had been browned in a pan, then braised for 2 hours and then sauteed in a pan upon being fired, served on a bed of polenta and Swiss chard, with a veal sauce reduction. NICE!

After that, it was 20 minutes of organization in the walk-in fridge, a little cleanup and the night was over.

The night ended on a high note as the sommelier gave all the cooks a blind taste of a wine to see if anyone of us could guess what it was. No one got it right. I had never even heard of the varietal before. The name was too long to remember but it began with "Franken--------------". It was a sweet desert wine from Austria with flavors of peach and pineapple.

Do You Know How to Turn an Artichoke?

The big Chef was at work today. This being my first day working with him. A quick bio on this Chef is that he is a CIA grad, worked at the French Laundry for 3 years, and is really responsible for this restaurant getting its Michelin Star. He is in his 30's, serious, and runs a taut ship. I walked in and said my hellos and got my cutting board to get ready to dive in to my parsley-chives-tarragon-chervil chopping routine when the Chef asked me if I know how to turn artichokes. "Yes Chef". But since everything is done a little differently in every kitchen, I asked him for a demo. He turned a perfect choke. In school, I would have to turn one or two for my practicals, but today I had to do a whole case. It was slow going, and mine were not as pretty, but the repetition allowed me to improve my speed and technique. I was told that the kitchen record is 20 minutes for a case...uhmm...90 minutes later, I was finally done. No new artichoke records were set today.



I was down for only a 4 hour prep today and would miss the service to allow me to have sufficient rest for my flight

tomorrow. Next I was given a bucket of lobster legs to shell followed by chopping some cooked rhubarb for the  Sous Chef. Next I helped the meat cook with his mis en place by trimming beans, shredding some potatoes and skinning fava beans. That was it. A short day.

My 2nd Day as a Stage

My body was hurting, my fingers felt swollen, and my feet ached from the clogs. I guess I'll get used to it. Today, the most senior Sous Chef was running the kitchen. His leadership style, a little stern and business like, was quite different from yesterday's Sous who was a bit more relaxed.

I began chopping away at the same herbs (parsley, chervil, chives, and tarragon) which are then combined and used as garnish on salads and most of the meat dishes. The number of seating expected was double that of yesterday, so I had to chop twice the amount of herbs. The chopping seemed to last forever. Then I had to brunoise some carrots and celery for the meat cook. Next I made some chicken mousse with creme fraiche, ran it through a tamis, and mixed it in with some duck confit and herbs to make a duck farce. I then made little egg shaped farce wrapped with cooked onion skin. The meat cook uses this for one of his dishes. This took me right up to service time.

The amuse bouche is a dollop of chopped lobster meat and herbs (I think) placed on a toasted brioche disk. I was told to make 20 more of the disks. I pulled out my bread knife and began slicing 1/4" thick slices of brioche. Then using a ring cutter I made 20 disks, sprayed with butter, and headed to the oven to bake them when the meat cook stopped me and told me that my disks were uneven in thickness. "You need to make new ones" he told me. Damn! I went back to my prep station and cut more slices as carefully as I could, made 20 more and went back to the oven. The same meat cook said "hey can you run back and get me ------ from the fridge, I'll watch the brioche". While I was in the back gathering his stuff, he came back and told me that he had forgotten about the brioche and they had burned. Damn! I had to make another 20! By the time it was over, I could cut some nice 1/4" slices.

The line was slammed twice and I did my best to help where needed but mostly stayed out of the way. I fetched items that were needed form the back fridge as stations ran out of their ingredients, chopped some shallots when they ran out, and got a little time at the stove with the hot app cook who let me cook some fois gras.

I got to see the line in full motion. Apparently it was a bit too chaotic because one of the waiters also played the role of expeditor. If an order came in while he was out front, then the ball would be dropped as an expeditor since you really can't do both jobs effectively (that's how it was explained to me anyway).

It was already closing time when I looked at the clock. The service was a big blur of time that had elapsed double time. As I walked to my car I took a mental inventory of lessons learned for the day. This sous chef was reluctant to let me run too freely and kept a little tighter leash on me than yesterday's sous. The kitchen behaves differently depending on the leadership style of the Chef in charge. Fetching items was a great way of learning the whereabouts of items in the kitchen and the walk-in fridge. The brioche fiasco taught me not to present something unless it was done right. I made a few mistakes and learned form them. All in all, another great day of learning in the kitchen.

Stage Day 1

What does a stagiaire do on his first day? For me it was a day full of wonderment, learning, hard physical labor, and a bombardment of information. I showed up 30 minutes early as instructed to get a head start and some acclimation with one of the 3 Sous Chefs. The Chef had told me to wear my Le Cordon Bleu jacket until they could order me a jacket with the restaurant logo. I dreaded appearing as some prima donna strutting around like I am someone special. Luckily, no one seemed to care. The Sous Chef was in charge today since the Chef was off. I was led around and introduced to everyone, then shown to the prep area. It seems that I am a bit of a novelty and a source of curiosity as word had already spread that "some airline pilot" was starting an internship. I did about 4 hours of chopping herbs, shucking peas, de-stemming spinach, etc..During this time, I kept my head down, mouth shut, and my ears open as I settled into the flow of the kitchen and got a feel for the different personalities. The kitchen is immaculate, well organized, and clean. I love it! My body felt the 4 hours of prep. I am definitely out of "kitchen" shape. After the prep, everyone began setting up their stations for dinner. One of the line cooks asked me if I was leaving after the prep, and I replied "I am staying until closing". I had not even considered leaving early as an option on my first day. I think this went a long way toward making a positive first impression.

Next, I was given the opportunity to sit in with the Sous Chef as he briefed the wait staff on the dinner menu, specials, and the amuse bouche. Without a specific assignment, I just hung around the line as the action picked up. I really wanted to observe the flow since this was my first time in a professional kitchen. The Sous Chef was the expeditor for the night so he gave me a little insight into what he was doing. He also allowed me to help with the construction of the amuse bouche. The amuse bouche was being handled by a another intern at the garde manger station, so I didn't want to butt into his turf. I was really just trying to stay out of the way. At one point I looked up and the cook at the hot app station waived me over and started teaching me how he was cooking his sauteed Scallop and lobster dishes. He had made a beurre monte that he was using for the lobster. He showed me his specific browning technique for the scallops. The Sous Chef then allowed me to torch the sugar on one of the custard brûlées. I then got some instruction from the meat station. As I went from station to station, I would take a detour to the veal stock pots and do some skimming (a task that I can do without messing anything up!). All in all it was a whirlwind of information for me.  I was given a taste of almost everything that was prepared. Even the pastry chef made a chocolate plate for me as well as a soufflé for me to try. I felt fortunate that this crew was willing to be so generous with their time for a lowly first day intern.

After the service subsided, I helped with cleanup and helped repack the fish on ice, helped with putting things away, and organizing. As a final task, the Sous Chef pulled me aside and allowed me to help him take inventory for next day's order.

I left there feeling exhausted. After only one day, I have a deeper appreciation for what happens in the kitchen to create that beautiful plate that appears at the table. I was taken by the orchestrated dance I had witnessed on the line. A huge job made to look effortless by some very talented young chefs. Day 2 tomorrow....

Eager Beaver

I arrived at the restaurant to meet the Chef de Cuisine with my knives, jacket, shoes. I was ready for action..whatever that may be! The Chef was nice, cordial, young (32), and spelled out what my duties would be. When he found out that I am an airline pilot his response was "and you want to do this why?" I had to chuckle. I guess it is a very reasonable question. One which I could not really answer without

launching into a diatribe about the demise of the airline profession and the industry's abusive treatment of its employees (see I can't even write about it without going off!) So, I wisely sidestepped it and we discussed his plans for me. He let me know that it is imperative for me to begin my internship by doing the daily prep of vegetables to improve my knife skills. Precision and speed is the goal. Next he would probably move me to garde manger, and then a natural progression after that based on my aptitude. He is completely flexible with my schedule and will work with me on my hours. I couldn't ask for more. I was then introduced to one of the three Sous Chefs who will be my immediate "mentor". A very nice guy as well. I discovered that this kitchen is staffed by a crew of 9 who have all worked together for 3 to 5 years with little turn over. Looks like a happy kitchen.
After another tour of the kitchen I was told to report for my

first day on Monday. Back to the Jekyll and Hyde show .For now, the knives and chef jacket go in the closet and my flight bag and pilot uniform come out for my flight to JFK tomorrow.

Internship (stage)

Today I had an interview for internship at a nearby restaurant. As you may know, since my return from Paris, I have been trying to sort out where I fit in with this whole Chef thing. Should I keep it as fun in my own kitchen, should I explore it as a follow up career, a little of both? Am I too old? Am I being realistic? Upon my return from Paris, with a boundless naiveté, I decided to apply for internship at the French Laundry. Nothing like going for the Gold medal after 2 months of training! A couple months later after some creative letter writing, self-promotion, and anxiety I was denied. I was almost relieved because the thought of working in that kitchen terrified me. What if they would discover that I have absolutely no talent and I am a fraud? The vision of the rest of the kitchen staff constructing cutting edge cuisine in their spotless uniforms while I was hopelessly wrestling with my Hollandaise as food was flying all over the kitchen was my recurring nightmare as I waited for a response. That was 6 weeks ago.

Since then, the nightmares have ceased, I have regrouped

and applied once again to another place...a 1 star Michelin restaurant with an exciting menu of California-French dishes run by a French Chef. I realize that I need to see a professional kitchen before I can go on any further. I may love it, I may hate it, or as a friend said recently "You'll love it and hate it". I need to find out.

Today I met the Executive Chef for an interview and was elated to be accepted for the Stage. I was a bit self conscious as I was given a tour of the kitchen and introduced to everyone as the "new intern". The looks and eyes conveyed "who is this old guy trying to fool" or so it felt anyway. The kitchen was spotless and the facilities are beautiful. Most important for me, the Chef is willing to work around my schedule and essentially allow me to come in when I can. I could not ask for a better kitchen, location, and situation. Tomorrow I'll meet the Chef de Cuisine, a CIA grad ,who incidentally did work at the French Laundry for 3 years, to get the specifics of my job. Time to sharpen my knives!

Le Cordon Bleu Intermediate Cuisine in November

Well, after lots of tormented thought, envy, and the desire to complete the program, I signed up for Intermediate Cuisine for the Intensive session in November. I think talking to my friend Sjoerd who just began Superior and reading my old classmate Will's latest blog entry put me over the hump of making this decision. Unfortunately, all of my friends will be long gone from LCB by then, but there will be new people to meet and maybe some of the old classmates will remain with jobs in Paris. Additionally, I will try to talk a few of my Basic Cuisine classmates (who did not continue) to consider coming as well...if you're reading this Alan! The focus of Intermediates is regional cuisine and a continuation of building on the skills learned in Basic Cuisine. This was a big decision mostly because Intermediates on its own is not the goal. The goal would be to continue on with Superior Cuisine and earn the Diplome de Cuisine. Recently LCB Paris began offering Superior in an intensive format which makes all the difference for me with my full time job. The 5 weeks intensive format works much better for me than the normal 11 week duration.

I wish November 15 was tomorrow, but this time will allow me the chance to save some money, practice my French, and work on my kitchen skills.

My Classmates begin SUPERIOR CUISINE

For those of you who occasionally look at my site in hopes of fresh information from Le Cordon Bleu I have good news! My friend Sjoerd from Amsterdam will begin Superior Cuisine this coming monday March 22. He will join 10 of my former classmates on their combined journeys to attain the Diplome de Cuisine. The real good news is that Sjoerd, as some of you may recall, kept a blog of his time during Basic and Intermediate courses and will continue to do the same during Superior. His site is:


Sjoerd at Le Cordon Bleu Paris - superior cuisine 2010


I am probably as excited for Superior to begin as Sjoerd. I am anxious to follow along in my friends' daily adventures and challenges. Good luck everyone.

3 Months Later

It seems like a foggy mist of an idea that I was actually living in Paris 3 months ago. It's been interesting to see how the experience at Le Cordon Bleu has impacted my life. I have been cooking almost daily experimenting with my new found techniques and melding the French techniques with more modern methods and recipes. I tend to view food in a whole new way since my return.

I have made an attempt to keep ties with some of my classmates. The ones who remained are now almost finished with the Intermediate Cuisine and must be light years ahead of the rest of us with their kitchen skills. How I wish I could have stayed! The classmates who left LCB have scattered back around the globe to their respective lives. I have kept up with a few...Pablo is safe in Santiago after the Earthquake, I have met Julia and Steve a couple of time in NY and San Francisco, Alan is tearing up the slopes in Jackson Hole, Allis is back in her role as a corporate executive, Greg is leaving CA for New Zealand, and Manuel is playing lots of golf.

Potato wrapped orange ruffy with white lemon

sauce and Tabouli

Since my return I have gorged myself on books, blogs, and anything I can find related to cooking and being a Chef. One of my greatest discoveries has been a clarity of the big picture that I didn't quite see while I was a student. I see the method behind the madness of some of the tasks I considered silly or senseless while I was a student. Things were not always perfect at school, and I tended to "whine" a bit about them. I now realize that this is truly a reflection of the real world kitchen where cooks are continuously working around challenges to create the end product. The ability to adapt is KEY.

Mini wild mushroom quiche

Normal size quiche

I have discovered that I now view food from such a different perspective. I seek out higher quality products, I am more reverent toward animal products, and I "attack" my kitchen in a much different manner.

Rainbow trout stuffed with squash and carrot "spagetti"

I am wasting less food by always searching for ways to use the scraps for other recipes or other uses. It's been a nice transformation. I have begun to establish a rapport with my butcher and seafood source, canned chicken or beef broth are no longer acceptable, and I have had a general awakening of my senses with the selection of produce. I have abandoned large supermarkets and am making an effort to support anything locally grown and the local farmers.

Upon my return I was gung-ho to seek an internship with The French Laundry, a 3 star Michellin rated restaurant in nearby Napa Valley. Unfortunately, I was recently denied my request as the competition is fierce. So, where does that leave me? I am truly enjoying my "own" kitchen. I don't know if a professional path is the way to go for me at this age and with me career as an airline pilot, although the challenge would be fun. I may still seek an internship at a "lesser" more relaxed restaurant just to see how it's done in a professional kitchen. As for taking Intermediates? The next opportunity will be November 2010. I'll have to think about that one.