Why is it called fabrication when you're cutting it into smaller pieces?

Everywhere you turn, there are mysteries.

Today, Chef Allen demonstrated the skinning and filleting of a salmon as well as a couple of advanced poultry techniques: the "matson" or "sweetheart" breast (two airline breasts, connected), and boneless, skinless legs and thighs. (The thermostat is set at 60°, though the cold air ceiling blowers are on constantly. It feels warmer once the sun comes up.) Our routine: after the Chef's demo, we break into teams: Hooves, Poultry, Seafood, and Sausage. (The groups of 3 or 4 change daily, both the assignment and the members.) Each team will have a fabrication assignment, and then we work like crazy until about 10:30. We do a major clean up, including removing chairs and mats, and mopping and squeegy-ing the floor, then have lecture for about an hour.

Chef started with the salmon, about 12 pounds or so, and advised us to handle it delicately. Fish is more fragile than meat or poultry, because of the way the flesh is formed in flakes, so no throwing it around! (Apparently those fish throwers in Seattle haven't talked this through with Chef Allen...) Don't slam it around, don't carry it by the tail; pick it up by the head and gills, or cradle it in two hands. Also, don't wash the fish (which should naturally smell clean and oceany, not like ammonia) until you're ready to work with it: the stickyish slime on the skin serves as a protective coating to keep it fresh.

Talking about the difference between farm-raised and wild salmon, Chef asked, "Is anybody Green in here? Like 'Save the World'?" It's hard to know sometimes whether he really wants an answer. He prefers wild salmon because the environmental effects of farm-raising are substantial, and farm-raised fish are more apt to harbor disease and/or high levels of antibiotics.

Salmon "fabrication" is all about a sharp long knife and the right angle. The major tip is to keep the salmon (on a towel, to keep it from slipping around) parallel and close to the edge of your cutting board. Then your knife can be close to the surface of the board and your knuckles are out of the way.

Take care to remove ALL the bones. "How many bones does it take to ruin a salmon dinner?" "One."

We save the heads for the stewards who clean up behind us. Just salmon heads, though. It's for soup. On the other hand, we do keep whitefish carcasses, but not salmon — it's too oily to use for stock.

The goal, when boning out the legs and thighs, is to end up with a lumpy section of chicken meat, marred only by a dime-sized hole (where the kneecap was, before you carefully removed it.) The unasked question of the day: do chickens really have knees?

I was initially disappointed to be on the Poultry team today, but I ended up completing two of my competencies (there are eight different cuts that the Chef will have to sign off on before the end of the session): the basic and the advanced chicken. We had no specific assignments, so we just cut apart chickens until time was up, then sorted and vacuum packed the results. It felt good actually, to just put my head down and cut cut cut. But the other teams were having fun. Hooves needed to fulfill a kitchen request for tenderloin steaks, so three people trimmed whole tenderloins while a fourth cut beautiful portions. The Seafood team practiced their skinning and boning, and the Sausage people cut pork butt into roasts, then began processing the "scraps" for Italian sausage. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Well, some food, hopefully. There are three bad things about being at the North Campus. First, the walk from the parking garage up Polk Street, where people are still sleeping on the sidewalk and in doorways. It makes me alternately nervous and very sad. Second, the coffee thing. I didn't do anything about that today, which was a mistake. Tomorrow, for sure. And last, WE HAVEN'T EATEN ANYTHING IN CLASS. I was FAMISHED when I got home. This has got to stop!