Le Cordon Bleu intermediate patisserie week 9 - time flies when you're cooking up a storm

It feels as though months have passed since my last blog post. I do apologies to those of you who read my posts regularly each week for the radio silence, exams and a number of wonderful opportunities came all at once and they got the better of me! This blog post is therefore going to go back, back to week 9 - my path to patissiere has been full of twists and turns and I'm looking forward to getting them all written down. Here goes...

My last blog post was a tiny taster of the plated desserts module that I completed on week 8. Although a cake lady through and through I found plating desserts to be incredibly enjoyable and a great way to channel my inner creativity. This module covered a variety of new and interesting techniques, from pulling sugar to using textured matts in order to create coloured and textured sponges. A friend of mine, in fact a very wonderful chef friend of mine once told me that for inspiration when plating food, its best to look to mother nature for guidance and for my last dessert, I did just that. 

Whilst fussing around with the white wine vinegar, scrubbing my plate to remove any marks with as much vigour as I could muster my mind drifted off and I began to wonder where this all began. When did we start dressing our plates with food to create edible art rather than just plonking in on? When did food become something to be looked upon first before devoured and when did we stop eating food simply for the purposes of fuel. How did we go from eating meat off the bone like Fred Flintstone to creating the edible wonderlands you'd find at restaurants such as Noma and The Fat Duck? Naturally I had to find out. 

In the middle ages, plating up food was as simple as tearing out the centre of a loaf of bread and filling this trench with a ladle full of home made strew. I'm sure if I was to walk the streets of London for a day that I'd be able to find someone, somewhere be it at a restaurant or a street food vendor serving food in exactly the same way. Of course the wealthy and royals at the time would enjoy much better service and food presentation, and as mentioned before on my blog in the past when discussing the origins of the entremet, the lines between the meal and entertainment became hugely blurred around this time. 

Looking into the subject further it seems that, once again its Catherine de Medici of Italy that we have to thank. If ever asked again who I'd invite, dead or alive, to a dinner at my house I would choose her. She was responsible for a great deal of change when she married Henry II, the King of France. Like me, Catherine De Medici had a sweet tooth so when the time came for her to move from Italy to France to marry Henry II, she refused to do so without being accompanied by her pastry team. Yes, team. The macaron was created by her team in approximately 1533 along with many other favourites of mine. But it wasn't just sweet treats that she brought with her, she also introduced dining innovations such as forks and topless waitresses, which essentially signifies the beginning of our shift from food for fuel to food for enjoyment. 

A century later and it was Louis XIV who really sealed cuisines place as an integral part of French culture, both for its flavour and aesthetics, with meals so lavish that you'd never be able to re create them in your own home. 

The change from large portions of food to smaller, more delicately plated meals can be pin pointed to the work of Marie-Antoine Careme, a wonderful man who's work I've mentioned in the past. Titled the worlds first 'celebrity' chef, Careme is responsible for bringing plating to the modern world. Creme was an avid amateur student of architecture - he considered pastry making to be an art form and often presented his dishes (made for Napoleon Bonaparte) in the shapes of famous waterfalls, pyramids, ships and monuments. He was also believed to have invented the croquembouche, a dish who's name translates to 'crunch in the mouth' and a dish which is still served around the world today and at a large number of weddings in France. 

Creme reduced the portion sizes whilst working within Napoleon Bonaparte's team. He did this as his main focus was the creation of hugely lavish, multiple course meals - he felt that the plates of food individually shouldn't fill the stomaches of the guests, but rather they should enjoy the food from a visual point of view first, then they should enjoy the taste and flavours. He emphasised complimentary flavours and pairings in presentations.  

During Creme's time, it was still only royals and the elite who were seeing and benefitting from these changes to the way we ate and presented our food. It wasn't until two years after his death in 1835 that Auguste Escoffier was born, a man who would see these changes and a much higher appreciation for our food be brought to the masses. Escoffier was born into the industrial revolution. This was a wonderful time of discovery, a rich time. We saw the worlds first millionaires, people began to travel for pleasure and the railroad was introduced making travel much more accessible. 

Escoffier secured his place in the history books for introducing 'a la carte' service to the world. His creations were still served on large trays featuring multiples dishes but the food was decorated beautifully and the portion sizes were still small, as Creme has intended. It was at this time that fine dining was born and became a profitable business. Escoffier was working at a time when chefs were still cooking over wood and charcoal fires. The food would be cooked in a separate building and then carried, sometime relatively long distances, to the dining room. He experimented with techniques which would allow the waiters to finish the cookery process in front of guests, adding a little theatre but also ensuring that their food would be hot when it arrived before them. 

At the turn of the last century, Fernand Point, a French chef and restauranteur considered to be the father of modern French cuisine, introduced elements that would become signitures of nouvelle cuisine. Point stressed the importance of cooking with seasonal ingredients, he focused upon flavours, simplicity, elegance, hospitality and service. Point also saw the importance of accessibility and therefore introduced a lighter fare. Point founded the restaurant La Pyeamide in Vienne near Lyon at the young age of 24 years old. The restaurant was awarded three Michelin stars and proved to be a great success. It was point who made the now ubiquitous baby vegetables a regular addition to the plate.

Sadly Point died when he was just 57 years old in 1955 and It wasn't until the 1960s when his famous protege, Paul Bocuse, solidified his techniques. Bocuse's neat and tidy food presentation became rather iconic and lead the way for nouvelle cuisine. Charlie Trotter and Alice Waters, the next generation of chefs took this minimalist style even further. Portions sizes reduced once again and theatre was added via edible finishing touches. 

Sergio Remolina, a professor at the Culinary Institute of America, when speaking to Bon Appetit said "in the late 1800s, the sauce was used to hide some of the defects in the meat of the smells because of the treatment of the protein, which could be a little bizarre. Today the goal is to feature the ingredients as close as possible to the source. if we have very fresh microgrees, or a fresh fish, we put in right at the centre of the presentation. The freshness of the ingredients guides the arrangement of the food". 

So there you have it, from Kings and Queens to the chefs of Kings, Queens and the common people - those are the names and faces we should be thanking and that is exactly how our food went from slop served in a stale loaf of bread to what we now know as fine dining and me, being stood in a kitchen at Le Cordon Bleu playing around with the positioning of the last red current I deemed fit enough to feature on my plate. What a journey! 

With the plated desserts module complete it was time to shift my focus to my practical and written intermediate patisserie exams. Urgh. I may have covered the course breakdown last term, but in case I didn't... as students at Le Cordon Bleu, our exams are broken down as such;

45% - class practical scores

45% - exam practical 

10% - theory paper

My first exam was at 7:40am on a Thursday. A completely unnecessary time to hold an examination. With sleep still in my eyes I dragged myself to Holborn and into the kitchen I went with the cleanest and best pressed uniform I'd sported all term, all thanks for my presentation scores goes to my Mum. She's got skills like no other when it comes to working magic with an iron so yes, at the age of 31 I asked my Mum to wash and press my uniform. I wanted the extra points, don't judge me. 

As I entered the room all I could think was which of the three dishes would be mine... would it be the Alhambra? My favourite of the three dishes to make due to its robustness and as it features a marzipan rose which I'd be able to whip up in no time and make look beautiful thus scoring more marks for presentation? Nope. Of course not! Of course I wouldn't be tested on my favourite. I wasn't last term so why should I be now? Ok, how about my second favourite? The Fraisier? The pink strawberry filled delight which features a genoise sponge - the sponge I dreaded in basic but actually scored very highly on when it came to my exam? Nope! Of course it would have to be my least favourite of the three - the dreaded OPERA.

They do say that life throws us challenges to try us and well, when myself and my class turned our papers to discover our fate, the title Gateau Opera was met with a chorus of groans and sighs. Why the Gateau Opera? Anything but the Gateau Opera! Thankfully I'd practised this dish only a matter of days before the exam and given that I'd made the cake at home, using only the equipment in my Mothers baking cupboard and ingredients from Waitrose it hadn't gone too badly. I kept reminding myself that during the exam I'd have everything I need to achieve perfection so at least I was safe in that knowledge. 

After 15 minutes spent writing up our ingredients list and method from memory we were asked to prepare to bake. Then as the clock ticked and tocked its way to the hour, at 8'o'clock our marking chef shouted the words we love to hear on the Great British Bake Off but dream under exam conditions...ready, steady, BAKE! 

The beloved Gateau Opera, as discussed at great length in a previous post, is a world wide favourite made up of 6 key elements; a bisuit joconde, a chocolate ganache, a creme au beurre cafe, a coffee flavoured soaking syrup, a chocolate glacace and piped chocolate decoration work. I began by baking my sponge, I prepare my baking tray and the mix then spread the mix over the tray thinly - I knew at this point that something had gone wrong. I'd overworked the mix. There was no time to dwell upon this so I flashed baked what I had and got on with the next task which was to make my ganache and creme au beurre cafe. The kitchen was hot, all ovens were on high and the there was a great deal of noise coming from the cafe kitchen just around the corner. The pot was team were slow meaning we had to wait a relatively long time for the equipment that we needed and I was certain my butter cream was going to split to to this. It didn't. Many others did but mine didn't and goodness only knows why. My ganache was perfect, my soaking syrup was delicious and so I began to assemble my dish. 

As my sponge had been overworked it was tight in texture and didn't have the rise I was hoping for which resulted in my Opera being considerably shorter than intended. When I say considerable, I'm talking millimetres but to me the difference was considerable. Everything ran smoothly and then it was time to decorate the cake. It was at this point that I began to panic. I was tired, my hand wouldn't stop shaking, we had ten minutes to go until time would be called to stop so I just went for it. I'm actually gutted that we weren't able to take pictures of our end results as I was so very impressed with mine! It was hands down the best piping I'd done during my time at Le Cordon Bleu and all you have is my word for it. With one exam down it was time to get a little rest before the theory paper the following day.   

Like my practical exam, my theory paper began at the ridiculously early time of 8am on the Friday morning. I flicked over the cover and was delighted to see questions to which I knew the answers. A few multiple choice questions, recipe writing and plate drawing questions later I was back in the big wide world with a whole day ahead of me. A day which lasted 23 hours and which felt like three days in one! 

Immediately after my exam, a skipped down to Radio Hair in Shoreditch for a trim. I wouldn't normally mention such things on my patisserie blog but they did a fab job and the team was lovely. So why not. Radio Hair are great, go there! I then walked over to Southbank where I did a 6 hour shift for the lovely Crosstown Doughnut team. I can't get enough of these doughnuts which is leading to the size of my bottom increasing...but just look at them! Tell me how am I supposed to resist such temptations?! 

At the end of my very long day I met a friend from the bus stop - that friend is the man responsible for the name of my blog, Path to Patissiere. He's a wonderful words smith and our weekend in London was so varied, in terms of food, that it deserves its very own blog post. So I'm going to give it just that. If you love wild foods and Japanese / Peruvian food fusion keep an eye out. I'll be covering both next week along with letting you know how I got on with my exams and finishing off my last intermediate project, an Easter themed celebration cake! 

*Please note that the views I express are mine alone and do not reflect the views of my place of study*

Le Cordon Bleu intermediate patisserie week 3 - fromage, big decisions and who's got the skills

After a very busy week filled with shock discoveries and more pastries than I could carry, it was refreshing for the pace to slow down a touch the week before what has been described by our Chefs as exam revision hell. With exams a little over a month away this week was very much focused upon practising the skills required to perfect the three selected exam dishes and to try our hand at a former exam dish; the Gateau Sabrina. 

I was really hoping to be able to provide more information about the Sabrina in this post, and its certainly not through lack of trying that I'm unable to. I've emailed Chef's in Paris, trawled through many books from the 1950's and tried many, many search terms on Google but it would appear that the thought process behind this dish and its unusual flavour combination is rather closely guarded. Its no secret however that this dish is challenging. Made from sweet pastry, genoise sponge, raspberry jam, a set strawberry cream, chocolate, marzipan and pistachios, the cake is made in quite in unusual way, using concentric circles rather than rounds of sponge as you might expect. 

Watching the Chef demonstrate the gateaus' construction, it was easy to see why we'd require the full 3 hour practical class in order to complete the task. First the sweet pastry was made and allowed to cool, the genoise was then ferociously whipped to ribbon stage, the flour was added and the mixture spread thinly over a large baking sheet. Into the oven it went for a flash bake, it was then set aside to cool whilst the sweet pastry was cooked, the marzipan rolled, the chocolate tempered and the set strawberry cream prepared. It felt as though I didn't have a moment to breath and take it all in. I suppose it felt that way as it were true! Sadly whilst tempering the chocolate, a temper is exactly what it got itself into. Transferring the bowl from the bain marie to an ice bath and back again many time, eventually the correct, Nutella like consistency was achieved and I was able to prepare the gateaus hard, impenetrable exterior. 

As soon as the necessary elements had cooled and set it was time to begin the construction work. A sweet pastry disc formed the base of the cake, to this a thin layer of raspberry jam was spread. The set strawberry cream was then spread generously over the flat genoise sponge. The sponge was cut into strips and along with the set cream, rolled up to form the concentric circular pattern. 4 strips in total were used, the sponge was then masked using the remaining set cream and left to chill. After a quick combing and covering of pistachio nibs it was time to add the finishing touches. The marzipan chocolate disc first had to be cut into 8 portions, as mentioned, this element is entirely impenetrable and therefore its purpose is to designated portions. Each slice was placed on top of the gateau and to hide the cuts, strawberry cream strips topped with piped chocolate was added. Topped off with a cut strawberry and there you have it. The Gateau Sabrina. An unnecessarily fussy cake and one I won't be repeating in a hurry. 

Despite being a rather frustrating cake to make, it was lovely to create a fairly new patisserie dish (bearing in mind that most date back hundreds of years), and one with a connection to such an iconic movie actress. If only I could find out where the Chefs took their inspiration from! 

Ever curious, I registered with the British Library to see if I could find out any more information there, and I'm now the proud owner of an official readers pass. I've sat through easier job interviews, but once my intentions were made clear, I was granted access to the worlds largest collection of books. Like a gleaming treasure trove, I couldn't wait to get inside and to see what the building had in store for me. Being rather naive, I assumed that I would be able to walk down large, grand aisles of pristine books and select those I required, perhaps with the assistance of someone less vertically challenged. This however was not the case. I was asked to sit at a computer and scan through the catalogue of 56 million books in order to find and request the books I'd like to view. The requested books would then be packed up and shipped down to London from a secret location and I'd be able to sit in one of the designated reading rooms and...well, read them! 

I told this to a friend who informed me that some books held by the library are so precious that when ordered, they are hand delivered and can only be read with the assistance of an official library page turner, who'd be wearing white cotton gloves. Naturally I assumed he was pulling my leg. This wouldn't be the first time I'd fallen for a tale such as this. When I was 18 years old when I finally discovered that my father had been essentially lying to me about select "facts" due to my incredibly trusting nature. I remember specifically walking past a kebab shop as a child and making a simple enquiry to the one man in my life I can trust above all others, that enquiry was "Dad, what's that?" pointing in the direction of the large, revolving, iconic dripping kebab meat skewer. His response was "that's an elephants leg". I looked the meat up and down, looked up at my Dad's face, looked back to the meat and was happy with the answer provided. Why wouldn't I have been? He didn't look like he was lying and the large stack of meat could have easily been the size of an elephants leg (to a child - looking at the meat now, it may have been a rather small elephant, still not inconceivable).   

MANY years later, it was freshers week at the University of Plymouth where I'd enrolled to study marketing. I'd moved into my flat and was starting to make some new friends. We'd decided to attend the freshers pub crawl in order to see more of the city and to meet our fellow students. At the end of the night, whilst walking home past the local kebab shop someone (a foreign student) asked of me the very same question I had done of my father years before. "What on earth is that?!", I swooped in quickly and confidently with the answer "that is the meat of an elephants leg and you couldn't pay me to eat it". The group I was walking home with instantly erupted into laugher and in that moment, my fathers cover was blown and I was labelled gullible. Thanks Dad. 

Thankfully, this time, I was wrong to doubt the facts passed onto me because I saw it with my very own eyes - the page turning person, turning pages whilst the reader sat with their hands in their lap, nodding when the time came for them to read on overleaf. How exciting! Luckily I was trusted with the books I'd ordered to turn the pages myself, I think I may have found the white gloved page turning person a little distracting. I was particularly excited to turn the pages of an 1874 edition of the Royal book of Pastry and Confectionary (le livre de patisserie) by Jules Gouffe, chef de cuisine of the Paris Jockey Club. The book was translated from French into English by Alphonse Gouffe, head pastry cook to Her Majesty the Queen, Queen Victoria. Within the old, dusty pages of this book I found recipes for dishes we'd now deem rather obscure such as veal frangipane pie and just about every type of patisserie treat made with filberts, which I later found out is the old and alternative name for the hazelnut. 

One dish that caught both my eye and attention was the meringue bee hive, shown below. I was amazed that in 1874 the chefs were able to make dishes as elaborate as this. I also thought to myself that I'd seen something like it, somewhere before. Scrolling back though my instagram feed I found a post from a guy called Mark - Mark is the founder of Outside of the Breadbox in NYC (www.outsideofthebreadbox.com) and, like me, is a pastry student studying at the ICC (French Culinary Institute). Unlike me Mark was tasked with recreating the beehive cake as part of his syllabus. I'm feeling very envious as I'd love to be able to recreate and modernise this dish, which is now referred to as a ruche cake. Perhaps I'll make the ruche beehive my next out of school project. 

Within the other books I'd requested I found some wonderful old cake related photography. Some showing cakes from history. Below, along with others is a picture of a cake made for Hilter's birthday. It's just so hard to think of Hitler as someone who celebrated a birthday, or celebrated anything at all, but of course he did. One things for sure, I don't envy the chef's who had to make the cake for him. Imagine if you messed up your piping that day! 

Sadly within the books I'd ordered there wasn't a word mentioned of the Gateau Sabrina, so my hunt continues. Before returning to school for our skills test it was time for the long awaited, second cheese lecture. There are two reasons that I love the cheese lectures at Le Cordon Bleu, the first is the amount of cheese we're able to sample. It's like being at the Waitrose cheese counter, able to try all the delights it has to offer but not feel as though you have to commit to purchase. The second is the lecturer. He's just fantastic, I'm yet to meet a person who can speak more passionately about the subject, or any subject for that matter. You can't help but feel happy, positive and engaged in his company.  

This lecture was less fact based than the previous and instead focused upon the different varieties of rots. I say rots, as essentially that's what cheese is - a rotting, fermenting lump of gone off curds and whey. The skill in cheesemaking is knowing which bacteria and which process of rotting your essential ingredients is going to result in the best flavour. The cheese man gleefully took us on a culinary adventure starting with young cheeses and working our way through to a group of cheeses referred to as internal fungals. Between this he covered stalled maturation, saponification, pasteurisation, external ferments (wash rinds) and internal ferments. 

The first cheese sampled was a young cheese, only 7 or 8 days old. Made from lactic goats milk, this was the most delicate cheese I'd ever tasted, just a hint of citrus and a tiny twang of goats milk. This was very much a base level cheese. We then went on to discuss and sample feta. A cheese loved by most Europeans, this sheep milk based cheese came about in around the 8th Century. The cheesemakers found that by throwing their barrels of curds and whey into the Mediterranean, they could preserve their products far longer and consequently profit from doing so. Personally I find feta to be a little too salty. No longer thrown into the Med due to pollution, feta is still soaked in brine but it's the heavy salt content that, in particular, the Brits love and which make it such a unique cheese. Interestingly, like me, the Hungarians aren't as fond of the salty flavour as the Greeks and Brits. Instead of serving the cheese straight from the pack, they soak their feta in clean water for 40 minutes. During the lecture we sampled both types of feta and to my surprise, it was like eating an entirely different cheese. Never again will I eat feta from the pack. It was delightfully creamy, soft and mild but still retained it's unique taste, but with much less salt! 

Despite loving this mild alternative to the feta I'd become very familiar with, I'm not usually a mild cheese lover. I love a cheese that packs a punch, the smellier the better and thankfully feta was followed by many stinkers. 

If you love cheese and want to try something new, my favourites were the following: 

• Clochette de Touraine 
• Tunworth 
• Camembert Gillot 
• Francis - a wash rind cheese 
• Barber 1833 cheddar 
• Brockel oud gouda 
• Dunsyre Blue 
• Nanny Williams Blue 

Still battling my way out of a cheese induced coma, I turned my thoughts to piping bags and fancy fonts. The skills test was paired with the baking of a traditional fruit cake, which we'll be feeding over the course of the next month and decorating following this terms exams, to our own specifications (I already know what mines going to look like and who it's destine for!) The skills test included piping the word Opera using chocolate, piping the word Fraisier using Royal icing and making a rose from marzipan. Having made roses many times in the past, I was confident enough not to practise this element beforehand. I did however research and practise the piping of the words prior and here are the results...

Chef wasn't as impressed as I was with my handiwork. We were told we'd gain extra points for piping fluidly and in a joined up font, which I did, but he really didn't like my O or my F. Having done my research and taken the O straight from a 1970s edition of a Roux brothers book, I felt a little disappointed but took his feedback on board. 

My rose was met with more pleasant remarks - Chef went as far as saying it was good! I thought so too, despite marzipan behaving a little differently to sugar paste, it turned out rather nicely and I think it would look wonderful sat upon any Fraisier cake. Practise complete I feel ready to take on the two dishes causing panic this week: the gateau Fraisier and the gateau Opera, both dishes are steeped in history (which I'm really looking forward to researching) and both are very tasty (so I'm looking forward to eating them too). In terms of my chosen lettering and design, it's quite literally back to the drawing board for me this evening. These dishes are far too technical and important to loose points to the finishing touches - both entremets are made up of at least four elements which means I have a couple of very busy practicals ahead of me. For the first dish, the Fraisier, we'll be expected to produce a genoise, a creme mousseline, a kirsch syrup, a marzipan topping and a marzipan rose. I'm less concerted by this one, it's the second the Opera which has me all on edge. The Opera requires more skill and will be made from a joconde sponge, ganache, a soaking syrup, a coffee butter cream, a chocolate glaze and of course, the piping! I will of course let you know how I got on next Sunday :o) 

Lastly, this week I made a huge decision. I've decided to specialise in cake design and decoration for my final term at Le Cordon Bleu. This means that I won't be progressing to superior patisserie, preparing petit fours for the end of term tea party or finishing my official diploma but I will be learning much, much more about the business side of cake making and the skills I'll need in order to make the very best wedding and celebration cakes. It was a hard decision to make but, for me, it's the right decision. Celebration cakes have always excited me most, they are the reason for me wanting to learn more about the classics. Last year I made many celebration cakes for friends and doing so filled me with so much joy. 

My final project at Le Cordon Bleu will be to make a wedding cake. Not waiting the cake to go to waste, I've found myself a bride and groom, via the wonders of social media, and will be making the cake to their brief. It's going to be a cake with quite the story as it'll be travelling down to France for the ceremony. I can't wait to start researching and sketching out what the cake will look like and of course, to meeting the bride and groom! 

Next week on my path to patissiere, as mentioned, I'll be whipping up a Fraisier and gateau Opera. I'll also be trying my hand as making custard doughnuts! Until next week x    

January was sweet, February is going to be much sweeter. 

*Please note that the views I express are mine alone and do not reflect the views of my place of study*