Category: culture

Quarto Chocolates

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All of the chocolate, that is the theme for this dessert.

White Chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, cocoa nibs- representing every manipulation of chocolate in the modern pastry pantry.  This dish highlights each of these chocolate varieties in a way that showcase what each has to offer, while working together to create a wonderful dish.  There is no competition here in which form of chocolate is better- from the bitter and unrefined cocoa nib to the sweet and smooth white chocolate.   This dish exploits each of these masterful concoctions, highlighting their natural properties and flavors.

The white chocolate is infused with fresh mint leaves, which sits atop a custard set with dark chocolate, enrobed with a candy shell.  Served on top is a milk chocolate mousse, just the essence of the sweet flavor, light as air, with none of the sticky weight that is typical with milk chocolate.  The cocoa nibs are candied to take off the bitter notes, and paired with a milk powder streusel, creating a black and white look that compliments the dark chocolate and bright red raspberry caramel.  The rich, sweet, decadent chocolate is pair with fresh market fruit, raspberries and blackberries , that add a fresh, tart note.

 

Cook’s Conundrum

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It’s never actually worth it, the perfectionist life of a chef.  It’s not worth the money, the back aches, the missing out on having an outside life, not seeing your friends, skipping every holiday to work in a hot kitchen for no extra pay or appreciation, cutting vacation short, skipping the summer tan.   It’s not worth the countless extra hours, the extreme attention to details that no one will ever see, all the subtle nuances that just end up get covered up with decoration.  Yes, there are short cuts, and people who makes these hacks tend to do well, because it’s not very often that the customer notices.  It’s not worth cooking for a living- it’s hardly making a living or having a life of your own.  It’s choosing to be a servant when you don’t have to be one.

The truth is that it is compulsive, it is a personal trait to make everything perfect to present something in a dimly light dinning room, to make every edge smooth and perfectly flush on a cake that is then covered with a border.  I have to make everything perfect, just to smash it.  Why?  So that I can sleep at night, so that I can feel good about every single thing I make time and time again- whether it’s a once in a life time wedding cake, or any one of the countless numbers of labor intensive penguin shaped ice cream sandwiches that go out on daily basis to the masses of diners.

Thank You Note

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I will never make time for myself.  I will never prioritize my needs over literally anyone else.  I am a giver- I give and I give and I give until I literally have a panic attack.  I will bend over backwards for everyone to the point that I get crippling muscle spasms.  I will put out and shine on until I have a mental break down and cry in the middle of the street over spilled milk.

That’s me, that’s the person I am.

I have realized this week that I cannot cope with the amount of work that I have because I don’t have time for Marigold.  I made it a priority this week to write, a goal that was met with extreme failure.  I have beyond zero time despite all the hard and concentrated work. It stressed me out to not have any time or energy for Marigold, therefore I asked for help- for the first time in my professional life.  I asked for another set of hands, for another body to help me with the endless mountain of work, and that wish was granted.

So no, I am not really doing anything to put myself first, I am doing this for Marigold.

Thanks for helping me prioritize myself, Marigold, I don’t know what I would do without you.  I will continue to make time for your voice and your opinions… really looking forward to what you have to say after months of silence.

Competition and Contemplation

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While posing with a fake smile in front of a seated audience (complete with friends and family), before a panel of trained judges (with clipboards), with your hair cemented into a tight bun by gobs of gelatin, gaudy make-up covering your face, a clip clamping your nose shut thereby forcing you to pant out of your dry mouth, wearing nothing more than a tight sequenced bathing suit- it is hard to feel confident.

Waiting for the routine to start with a pounding heart, waiting eagerly for that first note of the routine to chime in your pounding ears, waiting basically breathlessly and knowing that every single movement of the routine, its exacting execution and nun-like precision was to be critiqued by professionals, was introspective

To add to this already highly uncomfortable predicament, it gets worse- it’s not just your movements and grace alone, you have to coordinate with 7 other girls.  Movements must be executed at the same time and in a precise manner without hesitation, with the ease of an astronaut- while actually blindly struggling to look traverse a large body of water.

Performing a synchronized swimming routine was one of the hardest things that I have ever done.  Not only was I categorically judged and video recorded while trying to essentially dance in water- a scenario where your ears, nose, and eyes are rendered useless by the dominating assault of the water- I was competing against teams that were far, away, and utterly beyond above my amateur skill level.  Our team was one of the most inexperienced (hence worst)  in the competitions, but still we walked tall and danced our hearts out in cold, deep water.

It’s impossible to stand on pool deck, confident in what is to come when you know your skill level is sub-par, that anything but the worst marks would grant a smile from the coach’s face. It would be a whole day of waiting to perform for a few minutes, watching the success, grace, and pointed movements of the other teams before that cold plunge into the deep pool before stern stares.

Maybe that is why being interviewed on live television wasn’t that scary.  At least I didn’t have to look like a clown in a bathing suit pretending to be a mermaid while also trying to dance.  I suppose I am embracing my new-found penguin half, and its wobbled dance.

Late night stroll

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A walk through the talk:

Ice cream sandwiches are delicious and just like cookies, universally loved.  We all have a summertime addiction to this childhood treat- its cold, easy to eat, and everyone goes about enjoying it in a different way.

I would take the wrapper off and lick around the rectangular shaped frozen treat with my tongue, collecting the melted ice cream as I ran around the delicate edges, savoring every gram of the this concept that married cookie with ice cream.   After the ice cream disappeared to a length where the licking would not longer prove to be worthwhile, I would give in and eat the sandwich as intended- with my teeth to bite and my jaw to chew.  But the cookie was so soft that biting and chewing was left only to the imagination.

A successful ice cream sandwich must melt, it must be lick worthy but so easy to eat that it’s gone before you notice.

The combination of the ice cream sandwich with the alfajor is nothing less than genius.  Look, I have many great ideas, but this is an example of a collaborative project- this shows how group effort can having a great team can create a truly unique project.  There are so many steps to this penguin cookie creation that have come from this amazing culinary team that I don’t feel right taking credit.  Synergy is not something you create, it’s an effect.  Two weeks in, I feel it’s in full force.

Focused on the Blur

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After so many first times, it must, at some point, level out and start to get easier to do things for the first time.  It Must. Right? Or is it like how getting fully submerged in a cold lake on a hot summer day never gets easier no matter how many times you shock dry skin into the heavy wet water?

I have a great salt and pepper blend of confidence and humility, but I get nervous-I am not graceful on my feet.  I am a behind the scenes person, I am the focus of my delusions, but secretly super shy.  Interviewing a chef is like photographing Sasquatch, we are creatures not fully of this dimension and most times talking is hard.

I remember the first time I split and scrapped a vanilla bean- a long, thin, small, precious, and plump, ready to create a subtle explosion of flavor- I was hands shaking with my pairing knife, afraid to waste any one of the million seeds, knowing that this was a turning point in my life- one small step, the first one really, into a study that I so enthusiscitcally pursue.  So everytime I do something for the first time, I remember how natural it is for me to split a vanilla bean.

Seeking

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No matter how hard you work, you still must do more. You can improve, you can practice your art in many other forms.

I am working hard, but still there is much to do. Stay tuned, I am working hard on having time to find new avenues express my art.

Don’t Bother Calling

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Marigold doesn’t have time to marigold- she is too busy to be inspired to critique the culture around her.  She doesn’t have time to experience the world about, she doesn’t have the energy to dissect what people do and why.  She doesn’t have time to  document her desserts, she doesn’t have time to digest her visions.

Instead, I will tell a tale of what the restaurant life is really about, to dissipate these dramatic TV renditions of what a life of a chef is all about.  Yes there is drama, but it’s mostly because we are cranky, tired, hungry, without a break insight, with your co-workers nonstop, stressed out.  No I cannot make plans, no I cannot see friends, yes I might have to miss that thing that I promised I would do.  It’s not this high stake game all the time- mostly we are weary, just plain old tired and overworked, afraid that you are not going to make it through the week, let alone the next day.  I currently work 14 hour days with no breaks, eat one meal that consists of a hot dog over a trash can, tediously try and retry menu items while working in a 110 plus degree kitchen.  There is no dishwasher, so after you make a mess, you clean it, and after you feed the staff, you clean after them, and after you do multiple mock services, you stay and clean all the dishes- mop the floor, take out the trash, make your list for tomorrow, order your products, shot gun a beer before you ride your bike home to rest for a few fleeting hours.

I have had two days off in the last two weeks, and since opening day is tomorrow, and I can honestly say that I do not know when my next day off will be.  It might be a month- that is a real possibility.

So for now, I will give you pieces of the pent up life, when I am not too tired to write a few words.  Once the ship has set its course, you will see pictures, hear descriptions, maybe happen up a poem.  I have worked very hard for this, now is not the time to change my mind, seek something easier, try to become a secretary.

T Minus Countdown

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Ok everyone, so it’s the last official day before we officially start serving the general public with their opinions and their impressions and their reviews.  Am I nervous?  I would say terrified is more appropriate of a feeling.  Am I starting out with safe desserts?  Crowd pleasers that are tried, tested, and true?  Well, no, obviously.  That would be too easy.  There is risk involved, there is a good chance of failure.

Things not helping my anxiety:  the boys are killing it with their dishes and their execution.  These are professionals with professional tongues.  Every time I taste the food, my ego is like “what the fuck are you doing here?”  I have wanted this for a very long time, I have worked very hard to get here. I have the training, the education, the creativity, the work ethic, the vision, yet still, I feel unprepared, and no amount of work will make me feel prepared.  After a 6 month build up, and 3 weeks of work til you drop, the focus of a med school student, I still feel like a wet lost dog.

Thanks for listening everyone, see you on the hot side of the counter.

Unlesson

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Goals: if you meet them then they are no longer an object worth your pursuit. This is an end to your means, this is the carrot you chase.

Once you eat that carat you either give up or you find a more lustrous diamond.  If you succeed the first time then you are not trying hard enough.  If you match your goals then you need  to reformulate.

Therefore I am successful because I keep my goals as a desire, I am succesful because I fail.