Leadership and Learning

When I left Italy the chef I was working for, Chef Albini, said to me "Come back any time you can. My kitchen is your kitchen." What a lovely vote of confidence!

This gift of confidence is something I like to pass on to my students in a variety of ways.

Each semester I welcome one of my former chef students back into the kitchen for a full-time co-op education placement. I have been very fortunate through the years with students, and each semester it is a bit of a fight to see who will earn the opportunity. This semester it is Chef Tyler.

I am writing this blog entry on Thursday night. On Sunday my students and I are featured presenters at the annual OCEA conference (Ontario Co-operative Education Association), reminding seasoned teachers what it is actually like to be thrown into something new where everyone else knows what they're doing and you don't. With a large group signed up to join us for our part of the conference, we will find 4 volunteers (or 'voluntolds') and have them make, in a little more than one hour, coq-au-vin for 50 people. My chef students will be their teachers. Imagine! Adults having to learn from youth.

To this end, I challenged Chef Tyler to take over my kitchen and do all the teaching work for this dish. He had to plan the presentation, review his skills, prepare his shopping list (although I did the actual shopping) and arrange all his mis-en-place for the lesson.

We follow the classical Julia Child recipe fairly closely ... I have made a few modifications only ... and Tyler taught the lesson on Tuesday very well.

Tyler prepared the onions and lardons, he prepped the chicken, he did a lovely braise and flambe and formed the dish beautifully.

The garlic was smashed to smithereens after the anima was removed, and the mushrooms went in just near the end of the cooking time so structure would be kept as flavour transferred. My chef students in the class were delighted learning from Chef Tyler.

Today the regular students prepared a dinner of coq-au-vin for about 24 persons, and we will do the same tomorrow, with this recipe and dish. Chef Tyler managed the kitchen instead of me, and he did an excellent job.

Every student will have an opportunity to try their hand at managing a flambe, learning to pull fond and build sauces by managing the development of a flavour profile. Well done everyone!

Congratulations, Chef Tyler, and many thanks. You are developing excellent leadership skills, learning to support actual proficiency and production, and offer precise and careful direction to those who need it. Come back and cook with me any time ... you've earned it.

For a great look at what a year of culinary and leadership development and passionate skill looks like, here is the yearly wrap-up blog from the Stratford Chef School.

Mac-And-Cheese-And-Mac-And-Cheese-And-Mac-And-Cheese-And-Mac-And-Cheese-And ...

OK, so at some point everyone needs comfort food.

Comfort food is the stuff that makes you feel safe and at home and supported. It may be real food, or it may be a memory of a food that does it, and at some point every cook wants to make that dream of comfort and safety and home come true.

In Canada we have KD. I won't tell you that KD is a bad thing ... it is not ... but after reading the list of ingredients, one might just want to make something a bit ... um ... better, with more real food in it and less chemicals. This is not hard to do.

Learn to make roux. Today I did a demonstration on how to make blond roux, which became bechamel sauce, later transformed into mornay sauce. Knowledge, technique and practice are what makes good simple food like home-made Mac-And-Cheese just a whole lot more than delicious.

Learn to make food with techniques that transform the simple into the excellent!

We made roux, then transformed it. While this was on the low heat, elbow macaroni was boiled in good, salty water and drained (but not rinsed!)

and returned to the cooking pot. Another team member was responsible to make the topping of breadcrumbs, cheese, butter and whatever else struck their fancy (could be seared vegetables, bacon bits, a different cheese incorporated into the topping mix).

The results were poured into buttered brownie pans and baked for about 30 minutes at 350 ... and the kitchen was transformed into a calm, quiet place as everyone smelt the odours and flavours coming out of the ovens. "Chef, how much more time?" was the question of the day. Like a car-trip with 6-year-old kids, the only right answer was 'soon'.

Then ... Magic! All that skill with simple ingredients had been made into wonderful food The smell was wonderful, the consistency perfect, the taste delicious, the flavours balanced and the satisfaction immense.

Tomorrow we will have a Mac-And-Cheese race ... timed ... and see which team can make the best-tasting, best-looking, most gooey, cheesiest Mac-And-Cheese in our kitchen

Please, Sir, May I have some more?

Checkin' Out New Whites with Chef Ian Sarfin

Once in a while, it is time for some new threads.

Chef is a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to the kitchen, and most days the student chefs dress in full traditional chef whites (high hat, white chef jacket, dark trousers, closed-toe shoes, white apron, one or two side-towels). However, Chef was recently at a CCFCC meeting and had a chat with another chef, Ian Sarfin, who sells top-drawer chef uniform clothing. I invited him into our kitchen for a meeting with the students and a chat, then a try--on.

What a hoot! The pictures say it all. Chef Ian had a lovely long chat with the students, spending almost 45 minutes with them, listening, encouraging, telling stories, sharing a laugh or two. His breadth of experience made a strong impression, and his advice was to be willing to just try, work hard, be adventurous (although not entirely nuts) and give your very best to any situation.

Thanks for joining us, Chef Ian! It was a pleasure welcoming you into our kitchen.

Cinnamnon Buns ... out our ears!

Time to play, some days. Yesterday I took a vote in our class about whether we should start early or stay a bit late today ... the vote was overwhelmingly for an early start.

Before 08h00 almost the entire brigade had arrived, changed into uniform and were ready to go. The demonstration was yesterday, and today was their turn to learn to make cinnamon buns.

These are NOT, even on a good day, diet items. They just aren't. We could probably have put much of the school into either a coma or diabetic shock by the end of lunchtime today. The kitchen smelled delicious ... as Rudyard Kipling said, ' ...all sentimental... '. This is a celebration of traditional British cuisine (?!) at either its best or worst. You decide, gentle reader.

The recipe and general directions are in this blog in a previous post, back in October or November of 2014. For production details, please go there.

Today, I found the brigade to be supremely focused. The kitchen was very quiet, but there was intense focus, excellent production, great care to details and (believe it!), things were cleaned up as we went along! (Hallelujah!)

Here is just one photo from today ... Tim is preparing to remove the dough from the planetary mixer.

We baked, we flipped the results upside-down on racks, we took the results to afternoon classes or home, and the students were justifiably proud of their excellent work.

Part of being a well-mannered person, I tell them, is being willing, and able, to look after yourself and others. Here is a lovely article by Pedro Mendes, the blogger for "The Hogtown Rake". It is all about how impressive it is to be independent (instead of whiny and dependent), and be able and willing to do things well.

Well done, everyone!

Aaaand ... Here We Go Again!

Here it is ... the end of February ... and our semester has started up with a whole new brigade in the kitchen. The time has just flown by as the speed of work and learning has been utterly frenetic.

We always start our semesters with a first day of going through the paperwork and sharing a little understanding of what this course will entail. This is boring but completely necessary. I always ask my students "Is anyone taking this course because they have heard it is easy?" Not a hand is raised, not a movement. A few awkward glances. "Good", I always tell everyone, "because this course will be the most challenging thing you have most likely ever done. I hope you will enjoy it. You will have a chance to learn LOTS about food, nutrition, yourself, discipline and teamwork. You will gain confidence like never before in your own abilities and, based on our history, you WILL be very successful."

More awkward glances and a little shuffling.

On the very next day I gather everyone around and tell them "You have an entire commercial kitchen at your disposal. Everything you will need is here to make excellent food very, very well. Now here is a recipe. Explore this place. Work in teams you crerate. You have 2 1/2 hours. Make Me Cookies!" (An oatmeal-raisin cookie)

Comedy, drama, tragedy and farce ensue. This semester, after almost 90 minutes, one group was standing in front of the ovens arguing about if it was on or not, and how hot it might be, or should be. Two groups had sort-of-half-decent cookies, and one group has a collection of burnt offerings.

This is all highly predictable and happens each semester on the first day of class. Our fabulous community volunteer, Ruby, stands aside with me, and she and I have to bite our tongues as the show unfolds in front of us. We DO point and giggle a bit. she constantly reminds me to keep quiet.

We ate the OK ones, threw out the hockey pucks and dripped the oozing mess of the last group directly into the organic recycling.

And had coffee together.

The next day ... showtime!

The students come in and ask "What are we doin' today, Chef?" They are polite but a little wary still. I tell them that they will be making cookies. They all protest, politely. "Chef, we did that yesterday!" "No", I reply, "You mostly didn't. You mostly made one huge mess, and then squawked about cleaning up. Today you will receive a demonstration, and then you will do it MY way."

I tell them about the differences in a recipe written for home use and for the professional kitchen, and demonstrate it with several examples. From now on they will use only professional recipes.

I warn them that I am a bit of a dictator in the kitchen. That's what "Chef" means.

A professional recipe will be used for the demo and the test.

Test !!!??

I warn them that there will be a test after the demo. I can feel the anxiety rise in the kitchen, instantly. A test? It is the second day! A test? Yes, I tell them, a test. And I predict you will all do very well. Now ... watch and learn!

Students are each shown how to actually wash their hands properly. Then they are issued their chef jackets and toques (chef high hats) which will be theirs all semester. This is followed by a timed demonstration, of yesterday's recipe. It takes me exactly 25 minutes from cold start to them eating cookies. This is done TV-show style, with running commentaries and diversionary mentions of food history and culture. Everything is washed up and put away while the cookies are in the ovens. Espresso is offered to everyone. Cookies are shared.

We have a 10 minute break.

The brigade reassembles. There are a couple of stragglers with sorry excuses. I remind them that in a kitchen there is no room for lateness or being sorry ... the expectation is you are rock-reliable for your team and yourself. Always. No client or customer is interested in any excuse. There are no distractions (radio, internet, cellphones), so turn off your phones and prepare for your test! There is no replacement for lost time.

Anxious glances.

I make up teams of three students each. One student is appointed as team chef (in-charge) for the day. Each chef is given the recipe and a part of the kitchen to work in.

The whole class is carefully timed and the students are given 40 minutes to do what I demonstrated in 25. There is a countdown ... then ... GO!

They go like blazes. It is organized but looks like mayhem. At one point one of our V-Ps drops in to see a student and stands, mouth open, at the movement, the focus, the intensity and the communication and teamwork. On our second day. She asks to see the student later. She stands and watches for a while.

After 40 minutes ... well, I am a happy Chef. EVERY student has been successful, every team has done well, the kitchen is spotless and they are very relieved, happy and satisfied. "So", I ask everyone, "How did your test go?" Everyone talks. They know they have done well. Big check-mark ... test PASSED!

See you tomorrow!

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I am writing this on the last day of February, 2015. My students have had almost a month now of intense work, fast accretive learning and time out for some really weird discussions and history lessons about food and medicine.

They have learnt to make pasta and serve it 4 ways.

They have made thousands of cookies (with many more to come).

They have learnt to make 3 kinds of bread.

They have learn to work with phylo (mille-feuille) pastry.

They have made spanikopita and somosas.

They have learnt how to make hummus and tzatziki...and next week how to make tamarind sauces.

They have learnt to make outstanding biscotti (Cantucci di Prato).

They have cooked for their first outside clients.

They have learnt how to use a huge selection of professional kitchen tools, and learnt how to choose the right tool for the result they want to achieve.

They have been introduced to basic and some more advanced knife skills, with a particular focus on safety and knife care.

They have had their first field trip (to Nella) and start understanding the huge costs of setting up a restaurant and running our kitchen. The next field trip is next Tuesday, heading to Fiesta Farms on Christie.

They have learnt that, some days, you just have to get up early and show up to get the work done. There is no substitute for time!

As a semester-starter, this brigade is doing VERY well.

Congratulations, all!

Final Exams and Chef-At-Home

Well now! The semester has lurched to an end and we all survived our own cooking!

How did THAT happen?

Remember five months ago, and that first class which always starts the semester ... "Make Me Cookies"? Everyone had their own take on what should happen, and almost nothing happened in over two hours ... we had a few burnt cookies, lots and lots of raw cookie dough (because no one came to turn on the ovens) ... and no real coordination between anyone.

Remember the second class, with the first demonstration (how to really make cookies), then the challenge to, again, "Make Me Cookies", and you were only given 40 minutes from cold start to finished product, and EVERYONE succeeded? I certainly do. It was the start of your success.

You have all come such a long way! Over the Christmas holidays and in early January each of you has successfully completed the "Chef-At-Home" project, cooking for your family for three days. Now every one of you has demonstrated your skills in our 5-hour Final Exam, creating at least 3 dishes from scratch. You have your menus, you have your memories, you have shown us all how wonderful, confident and skill-filled each of you now is. You have learnt a huge amount, and you have learnt it very well.

Now, here is my final challenge to each of you: Take your skills of strong focus, getting rid of distractions (which is why a professional kitchen does not have radio or music on), the ability to start AND finish something, and to receive encouraging compliments and accept them with both acknowledgement and gratitude, and apply all this to every other class you are going to take.

Apply these skills to your whole life. They will keep you honest, sharp, clear and determined. You will earn a wonderful reputation because you will have consistent and wonderful character.

Reputation is on the outside, character is on the inside. Guard your reputation with every good thing you can do, dear students ... in the end, it is all you will have to offer: Your personal qualities of honesty, integrity, knowledge, skill and honour.

Good Luck to each of you.

A HUGE thanks to our co-op student, Emmerson (a graduate of this program), and Chefs Ruby and Susan. You all make my work SO much better and smoother. Thank you!

Please do stay in touch!

Chef

Roast That Bird, and How to Make Fabulous Gravy

Well, it is THAT time of year, students and friends ... a variety of fowl will show up in our kitchens over the next few months and we'll be asked to do something with them.

A few months ago my partner (whom some students have just called "Mrs Chef") was reading through the autumn edition of Canadian House and Home. This magazine is frequently full of wonderful ideas for cooking, serving and generally creating a good home without going bust dong so. Each edition features a variety of excellent recipes. This recipe for roast turkey (or chicken, or duck) featured a cheesecloth veil with a hard cider infusion. Mrs Chef was interested! So, I tried it a few times at home, and decided to share it with my students just before Christmas holidays. It is simple, cost-conscious and a lovely no-fail recipe.

Here is the technique and rough go-through:

Fire up your oven, prepare your bird, hold it in the frig, create the cider infusion, measure and cut the cheesecloth veil, haul the bird out of the frig, drape the veil, fire the roasting pan into the oven and just let it roast for you! The details are in the recipe.

I have to be honest with students and tell them that I am NOT in favour of stuffing a bird (any sort) with anything and roasting it. My sense is that it is safer to make a separate dish (call it 'stuffing' if you want to) and co-roast it using some pan drippings or previously-made chicken stock. All I do with most birds is rinse the inside well with cold, cold water, then pour in quite a bit of salt and push it around with my fingers into all the cavity crevices. The bird is then put onto a rack in the roasting pan and about 4 - 8 slices of fresh lemon are put into the bird's cavity, and sometimes a few onion slices, too, but nothing else. These are not designed to be eaten. The lemon and onion are quite loose; the cavity should not be packed tightly at all. Then the veil goes on (or however I choose to do my bird) and into the oven it goes!

At the end of the roasting time, test the bird by trying to wriggle the drumsticks up and down a bit.

If they resist movement, leave the bird to roast more. If the movement is pretty free and easy, that bird is done. (And as Sean observed, if the drumstick comes off in your hands she is probably overdone! Quite right.)

Remove the veil carefully, not pulling hard at all. It will come off as one piece of cheesecloth and leave you with a tender, succulent bird. Let it rest on the counter for 15 minutes or so while you make gravy.

First, make a bit of a rue by melting some butter and whisking some flour to make a sloppy sort of ball you can push around in the pot. Add some of the roasting juices to this rue and thin it out, a bit at a time, whisking until the right consistency is achieved. Your hand-whisk is your friend for making a good gravy! Correct the taste with S/P. A dear friend sometimes adds a tiny bit of sherry. Serve this and mmm ... mmm ... good!

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To give, someone once said, is more blessed than to receive. Our students had the opportunity to be wonderful givers just before their Christmas holidays ... the photo above shows a couple of large birds and two (of three) students who came out to work with Chef to make and feed Christmas dinner to the clients of H.O.T.T. (Housing Opening Today, Toronto).

On Saturday morning of 06 December Chef Susan Plummer met in the Monarch Park Kitchens with Chef Aller-Stead at 09h00 and together they got 4 huge turkeys (see photo again) into ovens, along with 5 smaller halal chickens, all with a delicious cider glaze set over them in a cheesecloth veil. Then the roasted vegetables were organized, then the potatoes. The cranberry sauce was made and when Chef Plummer left at just before noon everything was done. The delicious gravy was made with pan-drippings, per; tradition. Students had made the required creme anglaise the day before, and the dessert cookies (to be dipped into the creme anglaise). The salads were made on site at the last minute and all the equipment was lined up on counters to be stacked into Chef's creaking Subaru.

Tayson came in at 15h00 and helped with all the loading and the removal of the birds from the ovens and lifting of the veils. By 16h00 everything was loaded and Tayson scooted over to the event site on his own, to meet with Crystal and Steven there.

Chef's fabulous-smelling car rolled into the parking lot and backed into the loading dock, and in about 20 minutes everything was taken up into the kitchens for the HOTT family and community dinner!

All the HOTT staff and volunteers decorated the room with festive garlands and lights, and the guests started to drift in W-A-Y before the appointed time. This always happens, though, so we are ready for them. The music was on and the punch was made.

Almost 70 people finally came to table. Erin, a former student in the kitchen with Chef, kindy volunteered her time. It was just lovely to see Erin so well launched into her own career helping young people. We got the serving tables set up, plugged in our hotplates ... and ... blew all the fuses.

Oops.

After a few bits of electrical juggling, the serving line-up started and everyone came to the groaning banquet tables. The chatterboxes talked a blue streak, the very quiet people came and nodded to our inquiries about more turkey, and did they wish gravy? For quite a few, home-made cranberry sauce (made with cranberries, oranges and a little sherry) was something they'd never had, ever, and a few were reluctant to try. Chef said "Just try it! If you don't like it, bring it back and you'll get a refund." A few young kids tried it and then dragged their parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles and cousins over to have some. We ran out of 12 litres of home-made cranberry sauce in about 30 minutes! Kids tore around, and music filled the air. It was a huge, riotous family doing what families do ... making memories together and lengthening the story of their days. It was tender, unruly, loud and quietly reflective.

It was, truly, the merriest of Christmasses.

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Epilogue (written in January 2015): One of the senior HOTT staff came into the kitchen today with personal, hand-written thank-you cards for the students who had so generously given their time to HOTT (Tayson, Crystal and Steven), and Chef Plummer (who was honouring us again with a visit). There was even a card for Chef! In addition, a $100 donation was made by HOTT to our program.

Thank you, HOTT ! Your kind and generous support for our students and program is VERY appreciated. Happy Christmas and New Year to each of you, Bernadette, Lisa and Erin.