Sugar powers.

If you've ever worked with sugar you know it can be tricky. Personally, I've not done too much. I think the first and only time I used a candy thermometer was when my mother and I made homemade marshmallows at Christmas time a few years back. Esh. That was a messy project. We made a massive batch that expanded up and out of the mixer like the blob. I got the recipe from City Bakery in New York. They must have had much bigger mixers. But in the end they turned out tasty. Wrapped up cute, they made great gifts. My aunt actually mentioned them again just the other day.

Other than the mess those marshmallows made, I remember boiling the sugar and waiting for for the "soft ball" stage. Not fully understanding what that meant, it seemed like it took forever. I didn't know what to expect. Was the whole pan going to turn into a giant soft ball? Would multiple balls form? I remember feeling disappointed when we watched the thermometer reach the correct temperature for "soft ball" stage and then just moved on to the next step. What does it mean?!?

We performed a little sugar experiment. Chef explained to us how precise we have to be. Even a couple degrees makes a difference to its form and how it can be used. Like the butter exercise, he again employed his hands-on approach to teaching. You want to know the best way to know what the sugar is doing at different boiling points? Feel it. Yes. Put your hand in boiling syrup, then you'll know. And that's what we did.


"Don't be afraid, or you'll get burned," he said.

Um, yeah. We each got a bowl of ice water to numb our thumb and first two fingers, then plunged right in. And Chef was right. You can feel the difference. Once you tune out your mother's voice in your head begging and screaming at you not to do it, it's not so bad. The hotter it gets. Like 124C or 255F, you can feel grainy sugar forming. Even hotter and it starts to clump and you literally form hard candy in an instant, stamped with your fingerprints.

So "soft ball", or "boulé" as it's called en Français, is when an actual soft ball forms between your fingers. Guess it's not that complicated after all.

Your super powers stop at about 145C or 293F, when not even ice will protect you. The sugar will start to yellow and become "sucre d'orge" and just get darker from there. When it's black it's carbon and not fit for consumption. However, it's great for decorations apparently. Just looks like a pool of vampire blood to me.

Five days in.

Look what you can make in just five days. At the end of each week, Chef Sebastian wants us to gather our selected projects and display them in a buffet. Then we'll compare from first to last. Here is our first.


The first week seemed much longer than just five days. Most likely because everything was new. New people, new country, new food, new daily routines, new kitchen, etc. Plus, it's difficult to be speedy in the kitchen when you don't know where anything is, but we're getting it. Labeling the drawers has helped. It was a good long week, but come Saturday morning I was happy to sleep in.

My favorite learning: how to make vanilla butter. Did you know that if you take cream, add a bit of sugar and real vanilla bean, and then whisk until you're absolutely positive you've injured your arm and shoulder beyond repair for even the best physio therapist, you can make butter? Yep. Sure can. Have a look.

(Have you ever seen so many beautiful vanilla beans?)

So about five minutes after your arm muscles set flame, keep whisking and you'll eventually knock the water right out of that cream.

And, voila! Yummy, fluffy, sweet vanilla butter, that is totally worth the pain.

I think this will be my new dinner party thank you gift. Homemade butter with homemade scones for brekky the next morning? Sounds pretty good to me. But I am SO not doing it by hand. Heavy duty Kitchen Aid is officially on my wish list.

Besides baking, I've started running again. Given that I'm required to eat cake all day long, and participate in butter tastings, running is the least I can do. And because I can't exercise without a goal, I found a 10K on May 29. It's in a near by town called Le Puy-En-Velay. I also found an outdoor track down the street from the school. I don't usually enjoy running in circles, but because there aren't really sidewalks in the area, running circles seems better than dodging cars.
I did a slow two miles last night and felt great.

I think France has put my whole body in shock. For the last few years, I've pretty much eliminated dairy all together. I love it, but dairy really doesn't love me. And I never eat white bread. Like, ever. But all rules are off in France. They have to be or I'd starve. Baguettes are served at breakfast, lunch and dinner. And cheese. Oh the cheese. Come on, how can I say no? Here I thought pastries would be my downfall. But after just three days in the lab my sweet tooth was satisfied. It's cheese that's gonna bring me down. Or make me wider.

Oh well. I'll run a few more laps. Plus, hopefully I'll regain control when I move into my apartment on the 29th. Just a week and a half and I'll be cooking for myself. I've never craved steamed veggies this much.

Mmm. With that thought, I'm off to bed. Bonsoir!

Belly Ache

Another full day in the pastry lab. I'll keep it short tonight. I think the late nights and jet lag are finally wearing on me and I'm gonna try to get some sleep. Plus, I feel a little funny. Not funny ha, ha. More like tasted too much chocolate mousse funny. But it was a good day. See for yourself.




Here's my eclair. But Chef said it looked more like an am-ber-gaire. I suppose I agree.


Not so bad for day three. But here's how the pros do it. They put a few on display to show off.


Whatever. Mine tasted as good as theirs looked. And now my tummy is not so happy. Guess it's an occupational hazard. Lesson learned.

Commencement

I just finished my first full day of school and I'm beat. It turns out the tired you feel from standing up all day is totally different from the tired you feel from sitting on your butt in front of a computer for eight hours plus. Who knew.

The first half day was orientation. This included: rules, grading system, expectations, dress code, a tour of the facilities, etc. Then after lunch we put on our gear (sans jackets as they have not arrived yet) and hit the pastry lab. First on the agenda - learning how to properly flour the table, or fleureige. Creating a perfect cloud of flour that gently mists the table directly in front of you is a whole lot tougher that it looks.
After the table was sufficiently covered we rolled out three variations of basic sweet pastry - la pâte sucrée. Three different crusts which we then baked into tarts today. We whipped up an almond creme, sliced some pear and, voila! An almond pear tart prototype.

We also prepared a chocolate mousse which will top the pear tarts tomorrow. Yum. Yum. Yum. Chef Sebastian then showed us how to make use of all the left over almond creme. Why not bake in tiny molds to be used in other desserts, or simply eat it alone, he said. D'accord. Yes, please.

So far so good. I'm especially liking the manual labor. Even the clean up. There's something very gratifying and therapeutic about making something from scratch, creating a huge mess, then cleaning it all up and starting all over again the next day. It's a really nice tired.

But man are my hands dry. You thought I was an OCD handwasher before, now I make OCD look normal. Perhaps I could brand my own line of hand soap and lotion to sell in my future bakery. Hmm... peut-être.

Bonjour!

I made it to France as planned. I arrived at Lyon airport and found my group as instructed. I quickly passed out on the bus and missed the entire hour plus bus ride to Yssingeaux (pronounced E-sang-joux). My head bobbed the whole time. When we arrived at the chateau, we were taken to our individual rooms to drop off bags and then quickly taken to lunch. For the first two weeks on weekdays we'll be eating at a little restaurant in town. Friday they served lettuce and shredded carrots with dressing. The main dish was boeuf beuvignon. However I was given two eggs bavette (runny) as I don't eat beef. Here's a pic of my first breakfast (or lunch as it turned out). The salade speciale, sans meat. Complete with a bavette egg on top. Apologies for its sideways appearance. Please rotate your head to the right.

The group is small and female dominated. We represent several countries. Three from the States, one Canadian, one Romanian, one Singaporian, one Swiss, and one Peruvian guy. I sort of feel like I'm on an season of the Real World Yssingeaux. Hopefully there won't be too much drama. I'm really just interested in making cakes.

The last two days I've spent exploring the little town and sizing up my fellow students. I have been reminded once again how much I enjoy my solitude. I love meeting new people, and I can be quite social. But I find if it's forced upon me, I tend to want the opposite. Group outings are not my thing. Don't know why. But it seems to be more and more true the older I get. Here is a shot of the main road in the city center.


So we are the first international class at this pastry school, and the little town does not get many tourists. Needless to say, we stand out. The eight of us together create a scene. Especially since there's really only one of us that speaks French. The Canadian translates menus and acts as our interpreter in restaurants. She's great to have around. Yesterday a photographer from the local paper came and took our photo and asked a bunch of questions. I don't know what she asked or what was answered, but I'll post the picture and article when it's published.

I managed to find a public hiking path behind the chateau. It was described to me as a running/walking path. Um, I probably won't be jogging up that steep hill, but hopefully it'll help me counterbalance the pastries.

I've published other photos here. (or copy/paste this link http://photocast.me.com/lee_jackie/iPhoto/france-11-04-10/index.rss) I think you can subscribe to the RSS feed and you'll get updates as I get them updated. I think. Have a look and if you have any trouble just let me know.

The first day of class starts tomorrow and I really can't wait to get into a routine. My attention span for wandering around is about two days max, so I've reached my threshold. It's time to get to work. I'm especially excited to dive into French class. As I've said, Yssingeaux is not a tourist town and the people I've encountered so far speak as much English as I speak French. So our communication has been limited. I think they can tell I'm trying, but we end up shrugging our shoulders and smiling, as there's nothing to else to do. Oh well. I'll improve. C'est la vie.

Off to bed now. Bonsoir!

Not your average Peep.

Easter came, and Nate and I were prepared with three dozen new born chicks. I'm not sure my French pastry instructors would be impressed, but we were very pleased. And we ended up being a pretty good team in the kitchen. This was a nice surprise, as we both like to be in charge. But all went well, including a little friendly competition when the art director in both of us came out.

All but three of the little guys have been spoken for. And I can honestly say that I didn't eat even one. At least not a fully assembled one anyway. I'm sure I ate a few throughout the process. But when they finally took shape, I had no interest in eating one. I couldn't get excited. Not when I personally added EIGHT sticks of butter to the frosting alone. Hopefully the same phenomenon will hold true in pastry school.