"Always start out with a larger pot than what you think you need."

It really hasn't taken me this long to lick my wounds, life has just encroached on this blogging thing.  I promised the Char-LOTTE story and for the sake of this journal experience, and posterity I am going to do my best to communicate that adventure in a concise manner.
Setting:  Baking Final.  Kitchen Stadium, San Diego Culinary Institute
Production:  2 Creme Brulee; 1- 8" Almond Creme Fruit Tart; 1 Raspberry Mousse Charlotte
The Narrative:  After the chef's signal we students started separately with our Biscuit Cuilliere (Lady Finger Batter), consisting of whipped egg yolk with sugar; whipped egg white with sugar; folded in to flour and corn starch.  After creating the dough from a 1/2 recipe several of us noted, upon piping it into circles and long 6" wide strips there didn't seem to be enough batter to create one charlotte.  We decided to pool our strengths and mise en place for one more recipe, pipe it out and it would act as reserve for whomever needed it.  (The brilliance of this idea will unfold with the story.)  At this point I start on my almond tart and creme brulee, but I will not digress into this endeavor, just know it was occurring simultaneously with the charlotte.  The biscuit turned out well; a couple of my circles (one for the bottom and one for the middle layer) were a little thin, but acceptable.  Time to start the mousse.  The Italian Meringue, made earlier, needed to be folded into the raspberry puree (with gelatin.)  It had lost a little volume, and was a little resistant to incorporation, but I got there.  I added the whipped cream to finish the mousse and was ready to build the charlotte.  I cut my circles to fit inside the metal mold and folded my strips of baked biscuit cuilliere around the mold creating the sides.  I brushed the bottom circle with the "fruit punch" and proceeded to measure out my mousse with a ladle so the layers would be uniform.  It didn't take long to see I was not going to have enough mousse for this charlotte, but I had already started filling the mold, so I couldn't remove what mousse I had already used.  If I was lucky it would be 2/3 full (probably a result of fallen Italian Meringue and too much work incorporating it.)  This would not do!  I can't present a charlotte 2/3 full.  This would mean failing this final and having to repeat this day all over again... NEVER!  What could I do quickly?  Add whipped cream to some puree and gelatin was my best bet - the layer would be slightly different, but it was the only option I could conjure up during the time I had and the other platings and desserts I had to give the chef.  I went in search of more puree and heavy cream - there was NONE.  NONE!  Oh gracious, I am doomed.  I could mound fruit on top - the chef would never go for that.  Ergh.  Then the reach-in refrigerator door opened and light from heaven poured forth from it's miraculous chamber and out came... yes Raspberry Mousse.  One full quart my partner and I had refrigerated (10 days prior to this day) when we were creating them in class.  I melted down that gelatinized mousse on the induction burner and went in search for (Please, God) and extra circle layer.  I found one.  In short, I had a 3 layered charlotte.  To present the desserts we had to show the whole creation minus one piece which was plated and garnished to the nines.  The chef cocked his head sideways as he judged my charlotte and said, "This charlotte has three layers."  I said, "I know."  He said with a grin, "I don't think we have ever had a three layered charlotte presented for a final."
I got an A.  God be praised.  Thank you whoever had that inspiration to make extra biscuit cuilliere. 
Do you see the hand of the kindest of Gods in this?  Boy, I do.  And I learned this lesson (which goes back to the title of this blog):  Not only use a larger pot than you think you need, make extra batter and filling or extra everything for a culinary final.

"Dogs are wise. They crawl away into a quiet corner and lick their wounds and do not rejoin the world until they are whole once more."

I have just been dealt a harsh blow... :-]  I did not even get the opportunity to audition and interview with my first choice for the pivotal externship.  Admittedly, it was a huge stretch.  I am not giving up... I have responded with as many positive comments and additional possibilities within their establishment and now I will wait to hear back, or after hearing back again,  will come up with yet another idea in order to tell them how much they need me in their kitchen.  This is exhausting! ;-]
Right now, I need to retreat and lick my wounds... I have never really thought of myself as dramatic, and truly I am saying all this with a certain amount of my tongue in my cheek.  I know important life events  are rarely funneled through one experience which seems crucial.  I will leave room for God to work.
No culinary info today (too busy feeling sorry for myself), except to say (I always have something to say),  I passed my baking final with an A.  Thanks be to God!  More later about that Char-LOTTE adventure and my friendly competition with one student.

“Ye shall offer up a cake of the first of your dough for an heave offering: as ye do the heave offering of the threshingfloor, so shall ye heave it.”

I hate baking. 
Well, I hated it from 8AM-12:30PM yesterday.  :-]  We had a different instructor,  and the pace was very different.  It was good to learn from someone new, but hard to adjust for this (hmm, shall we say more mature) culinary student.  In that period of time we produced a creme anglaise, an ice cream base, a sorbet base, a chocolate souffle and a sponge cake.  Our souffle exploded, our ice cream base overcooked, and our sponge cake didn't look like anyone elses after baking.  I cleaned up the souffle ramekin as best I could, garnished it with raspberries and powdered sugar to hide some defects and plated it with a tiny bowl of creme anglaise.  I strained the ice cream base through a fine chinois twice, poured it into a hotel pan with lots of surface area and put that pan in an ice bath in order to cool it down as fast as possible (we were behind).  I just mourned over the sponge cake.  Did I mention the new chef was the Executive of the entire program??  I went on our lunch break, to lick my wounds, anticipating... the worst afternoon know to man.  It was going to be filled with a horrible cake and inedible ice cream. "Do the god's hate me",  I cried.  "I don't belong in a commercial kitchen;  I can't keep the pace; I am a failure"... is there anyone out there as sick of this mantra as I am?  :-]  Oh wait, there is more - we were fortunate enough to have yet another different chef for the afternoon... can I crawl in a hole now?
There was a lot of self talk during the lunch break that consisted of "Gayle, are you a quitter?",  "Stop feeling sorry for yourself", "Dry your tears and toughen up", and then some sweet fellow students came over and kept me company for a few minutes, which freed me from a continuation of overused aphorisms, and we entered into that wretched kitchen once again, but I was ready to make the best of it.
What do you think happened?  Our sponge cake was the only one properly cooked, the chef went straight for our ice cream base, tasted it and loved it and we produced an Italian meringue buttercream icing which could not have gone more swimmingly. 
Sometimes in life, says this wise, old sage, we are given the gift of immediate satisfaction (my experience of the low and the high all in one day) but more often it is the longer road of delayed satisfaction.  I hope I have learned this lesson.  As Winston Churchill once said, "Never give in--never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy." Or, my favorite resource, the Bible says, " Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.   (Psalm 27:14)   Okay, maybe that is a little vehement for culinary school, yet the principle applies. 


 

"Oh, it's more than a trifle, Clancy. It's a charlotte ."

Have you ever heard someone from France say "charlotte"?  The emphasis is on the "lotte" with lots of round vowels... it is actually a lovely name.  Have you ever heard someone from France say "mirror", spelled miroir in French?  It is... lots of vowels rolling around in the mouth with a few r's to make it interesting.  Hmm... I am supposed to be talking about food aren't I?
Tuesday we made the classic dessert, the char-LOTTE with raspberry.  We used a "fruit punch" (raspberry puree with corn syrup, lemon juice and sugar) to soak the biscuit cuillere (lady finger dough.)  The mousse was raspberry and included an Italian meringue and whipped cream. Once the mousse chilled and set inside the lady finger form, we covered the top with the mirror or "miroir"  :-]  (like the fruit punch with gelatin).  It was lovely.  Creating a charlotte is quite a production, and there are many steps.  This recipe, along with the fruit tart will be the practical piece for our final in a few weeks.  My family is going to be sick of charlottes...  maybe I can share the wealth.  Is there anyone is southern California who will eat dessert? 
We made chocolate filigrees to garnish our charlotte,  tirimisu, and creme brulee.  I accidentally took Jack's filigrees from the frig and used them.  Well, gosh, they looked just like mine... only a little better.  I kept saying to myself, "Wow, these look really good and uniform.  Did I do these?"  Okay, it was probably some awful subconscious pest which blinded my judgment when I took the lacy, chocolate beauties from the refrigerator.  My dear classmate was a good sport about it, but I may never live it down. 
I must admit to never having made creme brulee... I know, I know, how can someone who claims to love dessert, and claims to love to produce them,  has never made the most loved and favored creme brulee?  I am intimidated by the torch.  I admit it.  I did not show my fear in class (I hope) instead I took that flame thrower in hand and torched my creme brulee like a pro... well, almost a pro. 
How do you feel about flan?  I LOVE flan... oooh, the texture is silky and the caramel is a wonderful, dare I say, slightly bitter compliment to that smooth masterpiece.  We haven't eaten ours yet.  It is waiting patiently (in our Tuesday/Thursday class refrigerator) to be plated in some magical way on Thursday.  I need to work on plating... I need to work on everything.  :-]