The picture above--of my daughter and me enjoying a creation that took patience and several days to create, has nothing to do with the cooking I've been doing this week. That picture would be a blur. Second Quarter's Practicum--our main class--is called "Quantity Cooking." As I've said before, we're cooking for all the culinary students at our school. Before knowing anything about the school, I assumed it would be more like banquet-style--creating enormous vats of food and spooning portions from chafing dishes over sterno flames. This is not the case.
Instead, if you're making entrées, you need to time it so that you churn out several at a time, because the students come at anytime between 11 and 12:30. Is there a regularity to their arrival? Not really. It's all based on what's going on in that class's reality that day. Sometimes they come in for lunch in waves, and other times they trickle in like a leaky faucet. Sometimes we have too many plates available to be picked up, sometimes not enough.
This makes it more of a challenge to feed them fresh, hot food. You should see how quickly a plate of perfect pasta can dry out under the lamp.
Swedish Meatballs were a perfect first-day item to serve. Now there's some banquet food. If I had to, I could have cooked them all at the same time and served them in a hotel pan over the course of an hour and a half, no problem. The Mediterranean-Style Quinoa Wraps were also a great make-ahead, and they seemed to go fast, too.
The Fusilli with Italian Sausage, Roasted Tomatos and Braising Greens? Not as easy, because there was last-minute sautéeing involved. The Salmon en Papillote was another toughie. Sharing ovens with other people can get tricky, especially with fish. Especially if people change the oven temp for their own dish--while your fish is cooking in there--and you don't know it. Especially if your papillote (parchment envelope) is the size of the Goodyear Blimp and your portion of salmon is just shy of 4 ounces. Note: if you make that recipe, make sure you make an envelope that is proportioned to the fillings, otherwise it will dry out (or leak)!
Anyway, not a single dish I made ended up tasting as good as when I make it at home. Big surprise! Actually, it was a big surprise. But the other big surprise is the positive feedback I got for dishes anyway. People liked each of those menu items, and took the time to tell me so. I had to battle with myself to keep from blurting, "Really?!" or "It's usually waaaay better." A few times, with some of my friends, I did admit that it's usually better when I make it at home.
Julia Child's wisdom, to never apologize for your cooking, is great advice. At bare minimum, you diminish their enjoyment of the food by criticizing it. So most of the time, when someone said they liked my (dry, but on-other-occasions tender and juicy) salmon, I would try to just smile and say, "Thank you." Because just as my food was a (hastily wrapped) gift to them, their kind words were a gift to me. So I should just take the valentine and smile.
Today's the last day I'm on the "student entree" rotation, which means the food I'll cook for the rest of the quarter will usually be recipes assigned to me, rather than ones I bring myself. Today I'll have another chance to be gracious and grateful. My goal today? No apologies or explanations. Only thanks.