Le Cordon Bleu - Intermediate Mid-Term Grades

We just passed through lesson #19. That means that Intermediate Cuisine is more than half way over. It seems like I just started Basic, yet alone Intermediate. Soon enough I will be in Superior and then working. Wow! What a concept.

Mid-term also means grades. Our half-way marks were distributed at the beginning of the week. I am pleased to announce that my group has the highest average. All of our hard work and focus is paying off.

With that said, the final grade really comes down to the exam. As demonstrated in Basic. Worth 40% of the grade, a good, or bad, final exam can really make a difference.

For now, group C sits with a 3.483 average. And as for me personally? My marks have greatly improved from my Basic Cuisine days. Pleased to be above my group’s average, but more happy with my improvement.

Slapped by my poor Basic grade, I was determined to improve this term. My goal is not a specific average or class rank. Just improvement. And so far, I have. So, I am going to just keep on doing what I’m doing. While enjoying each moment. Improving along the way.

Le Cordon Bleu - French Wines #3

Varietal-ly speaking, Bourgogne is the simplest region. In terms of everything else. It is the most complex.

Totaling only six percent of French wine production – one percent globally – Burgundy is one of the most well known wine regions. This isn’t by fault. They make some fantastic wines.

Situated in the central, eastern part of France. Burgundy draws its ideal grape growing terroir from cliff sides. Easterly facing plains. And the hills of Beaune, Nuits, Chalonnaise, and Or. Hence the names, Côtes de Beaune, Côtes de Nuits, ect. Côtes literally means coast or shore. Here it refers to edge, or ridge.


Layers of minerals, namely limestone, sit below the earth’s crust. Giving a unique depth. Clay and granite are also commonly found.

Surprisingly. Burgundy has a higher production of white wines than red. Respectively, 58% and 42%. Whites are usually chardonnay. Reds are always pinot-noir. Occasionally wine makers are allowed to add sauvignon-blanc or aligoté to the lighter bottles. And gamay to the rouges. Although this almost never happens.

The structure of Bourgogne is the most complex system around. It is important to understand this because it has a direct effect on labeling.

First there is the region of Burgundy – the mass encompassing zone. General Burgundy wines are labeled with the regional name and the varietal. Bourgogne Chardonnay. These are perfectly fine to drink, but usually light and ordinary.

Within the regional area there are communes. Large sections still. But more focused. There are five major communales.

• Chablis
• Mâcon
• Côtes de Chalonnaise
• Côtes de Beaune
• Côtes de Nuits

Wines that bare a communal label are always blends from various vineyards. Labeling at this level includes the region, Bourgogne, and commune name, i.e. Côtes de Beaune. Bourgogne Côtes de Beaune. These usually don’t travel too far. Consumed by locals.

Breaking the region down even more. There are villages within the communes. These too are usually consumed within the zone of production. Marked with only the village name. Pouilly-Fuissé.

Within each village there can be two distinctions. Premier Cru and Grand Cru. These are the wines that make it in overseas shops. Within each village. There is a hill. The lowest and highest sections are Premier Crus. With the Grand Crus in the center – location with the best terroir. These are distinctions. Not every town bares these awards. (See if my drawing makes any sense.)

As probably assumed. Wines are tagged with Premier Cru or Grand Cru some where on the bottle. Otherwise. Following previously discussed labeling.

In a nutshell memorize the five major communes. This way you’ll know it’s a Burgundy. And remember that whites are always chardonnay. Reds are pinot-noir.

Lesson #3 Tastes

• Côte de Léchet Premier Cru (chardonnay) by Olivier Leflaive, 2006
• Pouilly-Fuissé (chardonnay) by Joseph Burrier, 2008
• Mercurey Premier Cru (pinot-noir) by Domaine Levert, 2004
• Volnay (pinot-noir) by Olivier Leflaive, 2006
• Nuits-Saint-Georges (pinot-noir) by Pierre André, 2007

Le Cordon Bleu - Instruction #17; Practical #17

Chef Poupard demonstrated the lessons from Instruction #17.

Instruction #17 – Champagne

• Leek and Troyes chitterling sausage pie with Chaource cheese
• Sole fillet and salmon paupiettes with Champagne
• Champagne, golden raisin and current sorbet, madeleines flavored with orange peel

We will discuss the grape wonders of Champagne when I tour with my wine class (the last lesson). So for now we’ll focus on the foodstuffs of the region.

Most famously known for brie, charcuterie – pork fixings – and madeleines. Sharing a border with Paris’ Île de France, this eastern region is surprisingly unpretentious. With name-baring Champagne houses as Dom Pérignon, Taittinger, and Cristal you’d think the neighborhood would be snooty.

Our entrée defied snobbery. A pie with pork and cheese. Not just any part of the swine. Chitterling. Better known as intestines. Uncooked this sausage smelled of manure. Cooking magnified the smell of a pig’s anal tract. Tasting was vomitus.

I now met my second food item that I can not swallow. The first is Japanese natto – fermented soybeans. And now? Intestinal delights.

I don’t mean to be dramatic, but this was really the foulest thing I have encountered in Le Cordon Bleu’s kitchen. The room got so stuffed with fecal smell that we had to open the door. Chef took a slight delight in watching our faces as we turned blue from holding our breaths.

Again. Gastronomically, Champagne is far from pretentious.

The main course was better. First we made a mousseline stuffing with salmon, salt, pepper, eggs, cream, and chives. Like a salmon spread. All whipped in a food processor. Stuffed into sole fillets. Which were rolled – tail to head – into small paupiettes. Wrapped in plastic. And poached in fumet.

Passed along our sole rolls, beurre blanc. Melted butter and wine sauce. Staying true to our region-of-the-day, butter was emulsified into shallot infused champagne. A final garnish of sautéed endive in orange juice made its way to the plate.

A side-dish of mushroom flan was also prepared. Rather similar to Chef Caals’ asparagus flan. Sautéed vegetables – mushrooms, in this case – blended with cream, salt, pepper, and eggs. Baked at a low temperature for 20-30 minutes in a bain-marie.

As a progressive treat, Chef stuffed some dried morel mushrooms with the salmon mousseline. And gently simmered in cream.

I loved Chef’s plating. Everything. From the slate board, to the modern designed. Very contemporary. Looking at this dish you would never assume that it was one of France’s most traditional recipes. Eating with our eyes is much more important than some chefs give credit to.



The end results were a bit difficult to taste. As I still had pig intestine flavor on my tongue.

But. The flan tasted too egg-y. The sauce, way too buttery for my liking. Yet the fish was excellent. Perfectly poached sole supplemented by salmon. Not over-powered, or lost. And as for the endive – the entry taste was nice. A bit orange-y, soft and wilted texture. Then the aftertaste arrived. Bitter as bitter can be. Almost knocking the food out of your mouth. Needless to say, it was a bit much for me. Chef, on the other hand, was extremely pleased with his endive. To each their own.

Dessert begged for seconds by most students. Fresh sorbet made of champagne, simple syrup, lemon and orange juice. Sparsely studded with marc de Champagne macerated, dried golden raisins and currants. And let’s not forget the famed madeleines. Orange perfumed with zest. Quite a darling plate.

Practical was a busy one. Sautee mushrooms for flan. Fillet fish. Start fumet. Prepare and bake flan. Sautee endive. Make salmon mousseline. Stuff morel mushrooms. Finish fumet. Stuff and roll sole. Poach paupiettes. Make beurre blanc. Finish on-time. Have everything warm. Present a well designed plate. Smile.

Chef Terrien’s feedback was; a bit too much pepper on the fish. And not enough salt in the mushroom flan. The rest was good.

Le Cordon Bleu - Practical #16

My lamb dish went a little better than Chef’s. It was cooked.

I went through my normal practical routine.

First verify that my workstation on the marble island is clean. Then the oven to the desired temperature. Followed by the burners. The first to six – French burners are one (low) to six (high). Second to three. One for the third. And the fourth burner remains off. I use this as a resting spot for items coming out of the oven or off another burner.

When I say burner I mean flat, electric, cook-tops. No gas in Le Cordon Bleu. Not because these ancient iron tops work better. But for safety. There is no burning down the school this way.

While my stove and oven heat up, I gather other items. A small bowl filled with water, holding a ladle and skimmer – for greasing, skimming, spooning. A pastry brush – to clean down the sides of pots while reducing. And a plastic spoon – for mixing.

In addition to the small bowl I also gather a cutting board, large roasting pan, and a series of bowls.

Once I place my plastic net (like what you use to prevent rugs from slipping) under my cutting board I prepare the roasting pan. Lined with four sheets of paper-towel. I place my knives, peeler, scraper, and any other tools that I may need in the center.

The day’s recipe determines the bowls’ functionality. Usually one for trash, bad meat trimmings, good meat trimmings, water to clean vegetables, and a final bowl for mixing.

From here I pull out any pots and pans that will be used from the various cubbies throughout the kitchen. Make parchment lids. And collect my ingredients.

By this point about two minutes have passed and I am ready to start my practical. Our time is precious and closely monitored by the chefs. It is critical that you are well organized not only on the work-surface, but in your mind as well. Two minutes for a set-up is plenty long. And quite honestly, should be getting faster.

Once I am set-up it’s hit the ground running. Moving through each recipe sequentially as I have pre-planned. Until the dish is plated and ready for presenting. As I sit through instructions my brain starts to turn. Thinking about how I will plate my dish. In Basic I was so afraid to think for myself I usually plated just as the chef demonstrated. The rebirth of my creativity and freedom has been thrilling.

Organization and planning served me well for practical #16. Chef Poupard – a high standard chef – monitored our group. His final assessment of my dish was parfait. I was thrilled to hear such great words from Chef. Now, hopefully I won’t be so tense the next time I work with him.

Le Cordon Bleu - Instruction #16

Once assembled. Covered. And in the oven. It should take 20 minutes. Said Chef Caals about Instruction #16’s lamb chop recipe.

Twenty minutes passed. Chef took out the dish to check. Potatoes – raw. Lamb – bloody. Back into the oven it went. Shifting the cooking time to 40 minutes, Chef continued on the day’s dessert.

Ding! Time to check the lamb again. Raw. Let’s give it another twenty minutes (now equaling an hour). Embarrassedly instructed Chef.

You can see where were going here. Even an hour wasn’t long enough.

Chef Caals’ demonstrations are confusing enough, but this took the cake. Not only was the disjointed lesson hard to follow, it didn’t even work. Near the end of class, Chef rattled off alternative cooking methods for us to perform in practical. Making Instruction #16 that much more of a mystery.

Practical is scheduled for this afternoon. It’ll be a crap-shoot. Let’s just hope that whatever I produce, it’s not raw. And somewhat representative of the traditional recipe. What ever that may be???

Instruction #16 - Île-de-France

• Argenteuil asparagus puff pastry and flan
• Lamb chops braised with onions and potatoes
• Chocolate fondant and pistachio ice cream

By the time the lamb was distributed for tasting it was still undercooked. The potatoes were hard and waxy. Astringency coating the tongue. Lamb leaked blood in an unappetizing way. After five minutes of chewing, most students spit the meat out. The poorest prepared meal so far at Le Cordon Bleu.

Chef can sometimes get in his moods. Commenting how all the recipes are antiquated. Boring. Or down right disgusting.

Disapproving of the entrée. He took out the puff pastry all together. Changed the flan from mushroom to asparagus. And plated the elements on different serving dishes. I mean. Where was this coming from?

The flan and asparagus were very good. Flan is a tricky one. Too much flavoring and it seems like you are eating extract. Knocking your taste buds to an unpleasant state. Not enough taste and you've got nothing else but curdled milk. Chef hit is just right. Subtle seasonings of asparagus wafting through the palate. Paired perfectly with asparagus stalks – the seasonal vegetable of the moment.

Dessert. As far as I can tell was true to the recipe. And very good.

I am really into the tour de France culinary trip that Intermediate is taking us on. Chef Caals is not. Unwilling to comment – or god forbid teach us – on the location of the day, Chef leaves us to research and learn on our own.

Instruction #16 took us to Île-de-France – Island of France. And if you’ve been to Paris (which covers 90% of the region), then you’ve seen this written just about everywhere.

While Paris is an international city, the region is not. Rabbit, poultry, and pork. In addition to wild boar, hare, venison, and pheasant are common foodstuffs of the region. Local towns, Argenteuil, Clamart, and Verrières, harvest asparagus, peas, and morel mushrooms, respectively. Not to mention, cereal, beets, and watercress from the capital city.

Île-de-France would not be French without cheese production. Brie, Coulommiers, and Pierre-Robert are just a few. Paired beautifully with local cherries, peaches, and strawberries.

There is some wine production of the area. But nothing worth mentioning. Its all actually crap.

The richest region in the EU is still known by locals as Région Parisienne. Its current label wasn’t made official until 1972. Population of 11.5 million people makes this the most populous province of France.

Le Cordon Bleu - French Wines #2

Alsace is the eastern most region of France. Or is Germany? No, isn’t it France? No, no definitely Germany. Whoops, I just found out its France.

This region has historically been back and forth. Under Germanic and French governing. It is indeed French. With a lot of influence from neighboring Germany.

Charcuterie. Sauerkraut. And onion tart dominate the plates. Where Riesling. Gewürztraminer. And Edelzwicker fill the glasses.

The Alsace wine region is interesting for two reasons. One. It is the only region that calls the wine by varietal. Alsace-Pinot Gris, for example. Usually French wines are listed by the area. i.e. Châteauneuf-du-Pape. The second reason has to do with the earth’s patchwork.

A long time ago – millions of years – there was a great crash within Alsace. The region once was a flat plain. The bottom fell out. The flat, high plain collapsed. Causing the soil to mix. Like a jigsaw puzzle tipped out on a table. This is worth noting because it effects today’s wine production. This acre is best for pinot-noir. Where that betters suits riesling. And so forth. Creating an unorganized. Disastrous. Of a place.

There are three AOC regions. Alsace. Alsace Grand Cru. And Crémant d'Alsace.

The first area is labeled as Alsace + varietal name.

Likewise with the second AOC, differing by the insertion of Grand Cru before the varietal. These are wines that must be made from the noble grapes – riesling, gewürztraminer, pinot-gris, and muscat. There are currently 51 Grand Cru regions.

The third locale are Alsace’s sparkling wines. Made from pinot-noir, riesling, pinot-gris, pinot-blanc, auxerrois, and chardonnay.

Sweet wines are another specialty of this region. Labeled as vendanges tardives. Grapes that are manually allowed to over ripen – raisin – or succumb to noble rot produce such wines. The later is a result of nature. Only occurring when the conditions are perfect. Fog in the morning. Warm, drying, sun in the afternoon. Noble rot is good for the grapes. Not for the vines.

Grape skins become thin and porous when dried. Allowing the moisture – water – to escape. Shrinking the fruit. The sugar remains unchanged. Just more concentrated.

Alsatian terrain is full of minerals. Clay, limestone, and granite. Westerly border by the Vosges Mountains – protects from wind and rain. Divided by the Rhine River. This is rich and diverse wine country.

The river’s northern flow slightly confuses regional labeling. Upper Alsace is south (down) on a map – the higher, rise of the river. Whereas, Lower Alsace sits at the top.

Session #2 – Tastes

• Alsace-Pinot-blanc by Preiss, 2008
• Alsace-Riesling by Mittnacht, 2008
• Alsace-Pinot-gris by Cave de Beblenheim, 2007
• Alsace- Gewürztraminer by Mittnacht, 2007
• Alsace- Gewürztraminer-vendanges tardives by Schlumbeger, 2005

Le Cordon Bleu - Berry, France

Instruction #15 took us to Berry.

Located in the center of France. Plopped within the Loire Valley. A figurative region – the French Revolution stripped Berry of official standing. Technically within the Centre Region. While Berry can not be found on conventional maps, its heirs – Indre and Cher – can be.

In spite of political exclusion, Berry and berrichons – of the region – live on. If only in gastronomic speech.

As its only source of water, the Loire River feeds the province. Carp, eel, trout and catfish. Common to French countryside, pork, veal, sheep, and various fowl are raised. The earth of this region however, does produce some unique items. Grey beans, wild mushrooms, and chestnuts. Also common, cherries, pears, and nuts are harvested throughout.

Valençay and Selles sur Cher are currently fighting. Determining which one will become my favorite goat’s milk cheese. Both hailing from Berry. Paired with neighborhood wines – Touraine Chinon and Sancerre – creates heavenly harmony.

Blood thickened rooster in a pot, coq au vin, is probably the most famous regional dish. Stuffed rabbit, Easter pâté, and pear meringue tart are other common traditions.

Le Cordon Bleu - Instruction #14; Practical #14; Instruction #15; Practical #15

Let’s jump to the good part. Which also happens to be the end of the story.

We thickened our sauce with blood. Fresh. Real. Swine.

For those that know the traditional recipe, coq au vin, know that it is always thickened with blood. Sauces are thickened for two reasons. Flavor concentration. And texture.

Essentially, the profile of a sauce is flavor and water. Slow down the movement of water molecules, and you’ve got a thickened sauce. Do this by adding barriers. Air, oil, gelatin, or tiny bits – vegetables, fruit, herbs or meat. Or, just. Simply reduce the amount of H2O through reduction.

Blood’s 17% protein – albumin – is a great stopper of water’s flow. Heated to 75 degrees Celsius the protein bonds unravel. At this point the sauce is taken off the heat. When the unraveled bonds cool – reattach themselves – they form a funky, unorganized network. Thus thickening the sauce.

The main problem with blood – or any protein for that matter (i.e. egg yolks) – is temperature. Boil, and it will clot. Reheating produces curdling. And cooking at too low of a temperature restricts thickening. Making these one-time-use sauces.

Nonetheless, it was cool. Pouring blood into a bowl. Combined with red wine vinegar. And mixing into a prepared sauce of bones, carrots, onions, cognac, Madeira, and a red wine marinade. Gently simmering. Whisking. And whisking. And whisking. After time the sauce slowly thickens. So much so it clings to the spoon like melted chocolate.

Passed along with braised rooster. And confit – slowly cooked – onions in red wine vinegar and wine.

Chef Stril oversaw practical #15. He was very happy with my dish, but asked for some more stewing of the onions. Not enough cook, makes for bad stomach. He said rubbing his belly.

Taking one step back. Just before practical #15. Chef Tivet led the respected instruction. Jolly and happy as can be, he thickened his rooster sauce with blood. And proudly plated his dish.

Along with, coq au vin – really called, coq en barbouille – Chef prepared and entrée and dessert. (Barbouille is a slang term for a rather poor painter. Hence Chef’s artistry on the side of the plate. See top photo.)

Instruction #15 – Berry

• Easter pâté wrapped in puff pastry
• Rooster cooked in red wine
• Pear and walnut pie

The Easter pâté was a simple sausage made of pork, onions and spices. Layered on a piece of rolled out puff pastry. Studded with hardboiled eggs. Topped with more sausage. And sealed with a second sheet of puff pastry.

Sausage and eggs. How could you go wrong? You can’t. He didn’t. It was great.

Lamb debuted in practical #14. Simply marinated in olive oil, peppermint, salt and pepper. Pan-seared. And placed on a layer of roasted tomatoes, sautéed spinach, and cooked mushrooms. Jus dashed the plate. Finished with a side of round-balled potatoes – browned in oil; flavored with butter.

The potatoes were beyond good. I mean they basically were French fries rolled in melted butter. The peppermint flavor was minimal in the jus. In fact you could barley taste it in demo Chef Caals’ dish. Infusing my jus at the last minute with two leaves added a bit more peppermint flavor.

My jus got a très bien. As did my potatoes and most of my vegetables. I marginally over cooked my roasted tomatoes. And the cooking of my lamb was bien. But I was cautioned that it was the minimum. Overall good marks. I was happy with my effort.

I love lamb. And this hit the spot for lunch. If I wrote in chronological order, this is where I would explain that a long day made for quick meals in between classes. Instruction #14, then Practical #14, then Instruction #15, and finally Practical #15. All ending with rooster. But, the excitement over the blood turned things upside-down.

Instruction #14 was lead by Chef Caals. Starting at 8:30 a.m. Chef too prepared an entrée and dessert to go along with the day’s lamb.

Instruction #14

• Sardine Carpaccio with tomato and basil
• Lamb fillet with vegetable tian, peppermint jus
• Parisian-style frozen nougat

The entrée was a simple dish of lemon, olive oil, basil, salt, and pepper marinated sardines. Tossed with similarly marinated cherry tomatoes. Warm potato salad. And roasted tomato petals.

It was such a wonderfully light dish. Freshened with lemon. Salty sardines. And smoothed by olive oil.

And this brings me to the beginning of my day. Waking up. Having coffee. Walking to school. Wondering if I will survive the long day.

Le Cordon Bleu - Practical #13

I think I was able to piece the recipe together for practical #13. If you remember, instruction for this class was over four days ago. Trout stuffed with morel mushrooms and braised in Riesling wine. Passed with top-shaped turned carrots and morel mushrooms.

We had a visiting chef – one we’ve had before – and he can be a bit difficult. Or at least gruff with us. In his usual fashion he gruffed around the kitchen. Making snide comments under his breath. Most of which we couldn’t understand.

Nonetheless, Chef’s final assessment was très bien. And that’s all that matters.

Today's schedule is a bear. Starting with an instruction at 8:30 a.m., practical immediately following. Succeed by a second instruction at 3:30 p.m. Ending with yet another practical. Tomorrow will be a solid 13 hour day. As Carolyn says, I’ll be one hand clapping by the end of the night.

Le Cordon Bleu - Intermediate Class Dinner

Once per term Le Cordon Bleu takes the students out for dinner. Last night’s Intermediate dinner was at La Truffe Noire. As you’ve guessed, truffle was the star of the evening.

We were greeted with a flute of champagne. But not just any champagne. Champagne with a heart-shaped truffle resting in the bottom, of course.

Dinner’s pre-entrée was cream of parmesan with beef and truffle gelée. Followed by tartare of duck foie gras and mushroom, truffle crostini. Hazelnut encrusted sea bass was served as the main course. Fennel confit gelée as the pre-dessert. And finally, chocolate and mint sorbet as the final course of the evening.

We all – chefs and students – enjoyed dinner. Much better than Basic’s Le Train Bleu restaurant.

In addition to having a nice meal the class dinners are a chance to hang out with our fellow students. But really, it is an opportunity to get to know our chefs better. In a more relaxed, social environment. Chefs Stril and Poupard joined us. We are all still wondering why the Intermediate Chefs, Caals and Tivet, didn’t grace us with their presence. Perhaps they’re too good for this? Nonetheless, Chefs Stril and Poupard are adored by all.

I hear Superior’s dinner is even better. I wonder where we’ll end up…

Picnic in the Park

Yesterday was a gorgeous day in Paris. In fact, it may have been the most beautiful day I have ever experienced. The sun was just warm enough. The shade was gently cooling. And the wind was non-existent. Perfectly beautiful.

What do you do with such a day? A picnic in the Champ de Mars Park. Right in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Even though 200,000 other Parisians had the same idea, it added to the excitement. The fun of being outside – free – for the first time this year. For the first time in six months.

Wish you all were here!

Le Cordon Bleu - Pâtisserie

For the knowledge. But really. For fun. I attended a pâtisserie class at school last week.

Le Cordon Bleu has two main programs – cuisine and pâtisserie. We’re allowed to take one class per term on the non-matriculated side. Tempering chocolate seemed like a great topic to take advantage of.

Chef Cotte – a funny one, who often oversees our cuisine practicals – took control of the melting chocolate.

Tempering chocolate is a process used mainly by professional confectioners. A system of heating and cooling. The purpose is for appearance and consistency.

First the chocolate is heated to melt the fat crystals. Then, slightly cooled to form a new set of crystals. And finally, reheated, melting any unstable crystals that may still be present. Leaving a concrete structure that will help form a dense, hard, shiny surface when completely cooled.

Like most things on the pâtisserie side, precision is key. For this, temperature must be paid attention to. In a bain-marie dark chocolate is melted to about 45-50 degrees Celsius. Cooled to 28-29 degrees. And reheated to 31-32. As shown here, if done incorrectly the final appearance is poor. (The spoon on the right is the goal.) The same process can be done for milk or white chocolate, at different temperatures, of course.

Chef made four desserts. Praliné – chocolate mixed with sugar-coated nuts. Rochers – chocolate with toasted hazelnuts. Muscadine – chocolate coated with powdered-sugar. And a surprise which consisted of whole hazelnuts on chocolate. Each dessert – making 15 or so of each kind – was hand-dipped in tempered chocolate. This was interesting for about the first one or two. Then became incredibly tedious and boring.

All in all, this was a fascinating experience to see how the other side of the kitchen worked. I also had no idea about this chocolate tempering thing. Amazing how much there is to learn out in the world.