Everybody Hurts

Today, or the first time, many of the teams scored big fat zeros on parts of their dishes. I only escaped that dreadful fate because I got sympathy points — my formerly great partner, Aaron, was AWOL today so I worked without a net, so to speak. Without a partner, anyhow.

On today's menu: grilled pork chop, sauce chasseur, broccoli and potatoes duchesse; grilled steak with maitre d' butter, grilled vegetables, and tournéd potatoes. The methodology used for the meat is what tied everyone in knots: we put grill marks (position the meat at 10 o'clock, then turn it to 2, to get perpendicular lines) on both sides of seasoned meat (salt and pepper for the beef; some chopped herbs and garlic along with the S&P for the pork, and a bit of salad oil). Then we put the meat in sauté pans and finished it off in a 350 degree oven. Chef Glen (wandering through) asked how I did today, and I told him that I felt like my meat got away from me in the oven. "What, it grew legs and wandered off?" he asked. With only one exception, we turned in medium to well done meat, and Chef Joseph ordered medium rare. Zero points right there. We should have all waited to put the meat into the oven until we were much closer to serving.

Andy came over to my work area after class, while I was prepping the ingredients for Chef's demonstration for tomorrow morning. (We take turns doing this chore, and it's another way my formerly great partner failed me today, since I had to do it all myself.) Andy's fretting about the final. The pork chop will be one of the four dishes we have to make (two on Thursday, two on Friday) which will determine our final grade. In talking with him, I realized that my personal working style has not yet kicked into gear in the kitchen classroom, and the time for kicking may be now.

For the last sixteen years (beginning on this very day, in 1990), I've made dinner virtually every night (well, probably 25 nights out of 30, if you take an average) for four, three, or two people (depending on who was living here), and dinner time is 7:30. Not to blow my own horn or anything, but I've been pretty damn accurate about keeping to this schedule. And it's not like our household is rigid or militaristic, but the train runs on time. I've gotten comfortable working backwards from calling everyone to the table at 7:30: determining the critical timing for the various steps required, and watching Jeopardy at the same time. So my plan is to decide what time we'll "serve" Chef Joseph (he "closes" at 11:30; kitchen clean-up starts then), and plan accordingly. That way, I can leave my marked pork chop on the back of the stove, and fire it (finish cooking it) about six minutes before "dinner time". And maybe there will be time for a round of "double Jeopardy" before we plate.

The coq au vin (No photos, sorry. We had company...) must have been okay, because everyone had seconds. I used oyster and button mushrooms, large quantities, and about $40 worth of demiglaze (retail value), and boned chicken thighs, because it's sometimes hard to cut chicken off the bone at the table, especially when you've got zinfandel-colored sauce. So it wasn't as pretty as I'd like because the chicken sort of fell apart, but it was very very tasty. I did the pilaf with blanched carrots and small pieces of green beans and toasted pine nuts stirred in at the end.

For dessert, I was able to put together an awesome cookie tray, because yesterday morning was the Annual Book Group Brunch and Cookie Exchange. Amy's macaroon-y cookies, with white chocolate between the two halves, got really really high marks. Probably 11.5 on the Chef Glen scale.