It's not the size of your pocket translator, it's what you do with it...!

Paris is a glamorous, vivacious and highly entertaining city...especially when you have time and money to spare. In my case, it seems my priorities are always directed elsewhere. I’m trying to keep to a fixed budget, and as I’ve opted to work part-time whilst going to school, when I’m not at school I am usually working. Hence, I keep a very low profile in all respects.

Working remotely from Paris offers many challenges, but somehow I always manage. Le Cordon Bleu and the room I rent from Isabelle are both located in a very quiet area to the south of the 15th arrondissement. Sadly, Isabelle's WiFi is inaccessible to me (some inexplicable technical glitch) Meanwhile, the Paris office of my employer is a 45-minute commute north by metro and RER to zone 3, which is outside the city. So unless I have at least a half day to devote to work responsibilities, I tend to work remotely. And I have come to rely on a few places in my neighborhood where I can access the WiFi and work for a couple hours without having to go all the way to the Paris office. My favorite haunts are the Novotel Vaugirard and the McDonald’s on Rue de la Convention.

The Novotel is closest to where I live and is moderately serene & beautiful; with a large, marbled atrium lobby filled with contemporain furnishings and large post-modernist sculptures. I can duck in virtually unnoticed by staff and I usually grab the corner table (complete with power outlet!) which is neatly tucked behind one of these sculptures. I’m virtually invisible to the reception desk and not officially in the restaurant area, so I tend to be left alone. The only details to manage in this location are acoustics and fragrance; when the lobby fills up with people the sound can be overwhelming, and then there is this spritzer lady who circulates every hour or so to re-apply aromatherapy scent to all the statues. No, I’m not joking – scent is evidently some equity element Novotel are trying to own. Anyway, to my credit on being unnoticed, one time the spritzer lady almost doused me as she made her way around the statue.

The McDo has an upstairs dining area which is typically not busy. There is no aromatherapy (apart from the smell of fries cooking downstairs) and the prevailing sound is the dull chatter of diners and the occasional beeping from a frying appliance. They advertise their free WiFi, so I don’t have to hide behind statues or order anything from the menu. For virtue of low traffic and lack of an extremely punctual spritzer lady, sometimes I actually prefer going here – but only when I don’t need to work an extended period since there is no power outlet.

Because I am constantly on the go in Paris, always changing in and out of a uniform and hat, my face breaking a sweat in the hot kitchens - I tend to go very low key on wardrobe and personal grooming. Don’t panic – I’ve not gone totally French so I am still showering everyday (tee hee!) But I’m just not making much effort beyond that with regard to hair or makeup. So you’ll usually find me in jeans and a simple top, one practical bag that holds all my gear for work and school, my hair scraped back into a bun or ponytail, with sensible shoes that allow me to run if necessary.

That particular day, I’d had 2 back-to-back classes in the afternoon, so I decided after dinner that I would go work at the Novotel. But that evening the Novotel appeared to be having some major convention – the lobby was packed with people wearing black and drinking wine and socializing. Clearly I would not blend in tonight! So I wandered further down Vaugirard to the McDo and spent the evening working upstairs until my battery died.

By that point it was around 11pm and I was on my way back to Isabelle’s, which is a 20 minute walk from the McDo. I was about halfway home when suddenly I had the sensation I was being followed. I turned my head slightly and my suspicions were confirmed when a flash of movement caught my peripheral vision. Relying on the self-defense training I’d been taught, I decided to turn around and face my follower – based on the premise that if they have bad intentions then taking a good look can prove discouraging (since you can identify them later on). So firmly clutching my notebook computer and the strap of my handbag on my shoulder, I spun around.

About 3 steps behind me was a teenage boy. Maybe he wasn’t actually a teenager – but he was certainly much younger than me and appeared to still have acne flare-ups. I’m not sure at what point he’d started following me or for how long – maybe he’d been at the McDo. So whilst I didn’t feel threatened, I looked at him as if to say, ‘and so, what do you want?’

“Bonsoir” he said then began to banter out a string of colloquial dialogue in very accelerated French. It was late, I was tired and his energetic canter was too quick for me to follow. All I could decipher was the first question he posed, which was asking me if I had a cigarette.

I replied in French that I did not smoke, and turned to keep walking. He must have heard my accent, because he began speaking much slower and mixing in some English words here and there. Eventually came the next question, in English this time: “do you want co-shun?” (I write it phonetically as it sounded to me). “I’m very sorry I don’t understand you” I answered extra slowly in my sturdiest Midwestern accent, hoping the guy would leave me alone. Meanwhile, the dialogue in my own head was rambling along at its own feverish pace… “hmm….cushion?? Did he say cushion? Or was it caution? The French often pronounce words with ‘au’ as ‘o’ instead of ‘ah’. So does he want to give me a pillow or is he trying to warn me of something? Hmm, in either case maybe I should be worried…when do I run away? Wait, I’m right in front of the police station…whew!”

It was at this stage, the persistent lad reached into his school bag and pulled out a small, white electronic gadget. As he flipped up the screen, I could see it was a pocket-sized language translator. Oh great, I thought. The kid was typing furiously into it, still eager to deliver his intended message to me. Each time he made an entry, I could hear by the dull bleeping noise from the gadget that he was not achieving a successful translation. But, to his credit and to my annoyance, he kept right on trying. Once again, I told him I was really sorry that I couldn’t help him, and then turned to keep walking.

“Wait, wait…” he said emphatically in French. Then in very broken English… “you know, when boy and girl get together and make co-shun. We go have drink and then have co-shun, yes?” He gave me a big and very cheesy smile.

Suddenly I had clarity - I guess the word of the month was ‘coition!’ I almost cracked up laughing. Where, apart from perhaps a medical journal and apparently in France, would the word coition be used in modern times? At that point I couldn’t decide what was infinitely weirder about this whole incident – was it his obscure word choice, the extreme age difference between us , or the fact I was being hustled with the use of an electronic translator?! Only in France, one might say. I turned and walked away. By the time I got to Isabelle’s I could barely stop laughing.

So I also take back everything I said about the streets of the 15th being sleepy. I guess maybe I have been the one sleeping all this time! :)

Feelin’ Groovy

If I were to personify the cake they call Passionata, she’d probably be a Twiggy or an Edie – looking groovy in a mod skirt of Joconde, filled with colorful layers of raspberry and passion fruit mousses and finished with a layer of glossy raspberry glaze. Admiring the finished cake, I was instantly reminded of colorful miniskirts, vinyl platform boots and those massive, candy-colored sunglasses they wore in the 60’s.

Whatever name I could give her, Passionata was a fun and visually impressive cake to make. Clearly, the most exciting part was going to be making the Joconde, since this would require finger painting with tinted cigarette batter. (As you might have started to notice, any chance for me to unite my two creative worlds – design and patisserie – always fills my heart with joy. Or in this case, passion! Hee hee…)

Cigarette batter has nothing to do with smoking or nicotine, but refers to the shape of the cookies that come from this batter (and quite possibly for the fact the cookies are equally addictive). If you don’t recognize the name, I’m sure you’ve seen these cookies on a platter for high tea. These are thin, crisp, cylindrically-shaped cookies - sort of like a brandy snap, but less caramelized and with a texture closer to shortbread. They are made by shaping the baked rounds of batter around the handle of a wooden spoon whilst the cookies are still hot from the oven. Sometimes the finished cookies are filled with whipped cream or ganache…mmm, too good!

So making the cigarette batter was a bit like mixing paint. Eggs, melted butter, sugar and flour were combined to make a thick, smooth paste; this was divided into two portions and each portion was tinted red or yellow. Then these tinted batters were applied to the parchment-lined baking sheet in decorative strokes to create a colorful underlay for the Joconde sponge, which is spread atop the cigarette layer. As the Joconde bakes, it absorbs the tinted batter underneath to create the slightly psychedelic patterns in the finished cake. The colorful sponge is then cut into a strip to line a ring shaped mold, and the mold is filled with the fruit mousses.

The real trick was not to overthink the application of the cigarette batter. A few well-intentioned classmates got a bit too creative in trying to create complex patterns, or just overworked the two colors. This resulted either in odd, blotchy effects for some and for others a truly weird orange color that looked less tie-dyed and more like Thousand Island dressing….eeew!

Chef Hottie was attending the practical for my group. When we entered the lab, he greeted us with a smile over the roar of a food processor. And quel surprise…there were to be a few modifications to the recipe we’d been shown in the demo. It seems someone had forgotten to order the frozen raspberry puree, so we’d be substituting fresh strawberries instead. February isn’t the season for strawberries, so the color of the puree looked quite pale and would probably need a dye-job – at least for the amount going into the fruit glaze on top. After all, a fashionista cake like this would need color coordination – bien sur!

In previous tales from practical land, I’ve mentioned the peril of using the school’s food coloring. They put these colorings into those big, squeezy plastic condiment bottles. Those who aren’t aware that only a slight tipping of the bottle, versus a full squeeze, are in for a big surprise. A gushing fluvial of intense red color emerges, destroying all hopes for a petal pink buttercream and possibly leaving a botched-surgery type signature on your uniform. Worse yet, the crusty dried particles from someone else’s dyeing effort can tumble from the sides or rim of the bottle and further complicate the process. The safest bet is to dispense color into a separate bowl, then take what is needed from there – sans particules and sans stress!

Whilst there were a few overly intense red glazes, for the most part everyone’s Passionata went more or less according to plan. The fantastic four were working together again – and with excellent results. Aurore and Alberto mastered the joconde; meanwhile David and I measured the ingredients and whipped the cream for the whole group. The pairing up amongst the four of us across the different tasks really helped speed the process along – which wasn’t overly complicated but composed of many small steps and quite temperature sensitive regarding the mousse fillings.

In the end I had great results with my glaze – the color and the application earned positive comments from the chef. With a few powdered sugar raspberries and a sprinkle of chopped pistachios, I was pleased to take this one back to share with my Geneva mod squad.

C’est Marron, non?

Okay, okay…so once again I have jumped to conclusions…thus, I take back everything I said about Tresor being the oddest cake we made.

Dome aux Marrons was also a ridiculous looking cake. A large hemisphere of chesnut mousse interleaved with graduated layers of hazelnut dacquoise, then topped with chestnut cream and a lot of cheesy looking marzipan decors. The only thing that was missing, in my humble opinion, was the upper half of a Barbie torso.

It was hard to stay focused during the demo. It was late afternoon and late in the week, the room was so stuffy, the row of Latino students were chattering endlessly and everyone’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. Chef Tranchant began to assemble the cake into the dome shape and apply the chestnut cream. The translator was droning on about the spatula movements of the chef when a simple mistranslation saved the day. Instead of describing the chef’s method of applying the chestnut cream as ‘spackling’, her translation came out as ‘spanking’.

Suddenly the room sprang back to life, people were laughing and making innuendos about spanking the dome and other funny comments. Even the Asian students were nudging each other, giggling and making jokes. The row of Latino males had completely stopped their chattering and their attention was now riveted on the chef.

Chef Tranchant just smiled and used the renewed level of energy as a segway for his next installment: spraying the dome with chocolate! We watched in awe as plastic trash bags were laid across the workbench and hung from the ceiling to protect all surfaces from overspray. Then an electric power painter was plugged in, filled with a 50/50 mixture of chocolate & cocoa butter, and used to spray the dome with a light coating. The spray gun made a lot of noise while coating the dome with chocolate, which seemed to further impress everyone and hold their attention (or maybe jolt them awake if they’d totally missed the spanking translation).

Despite all the fun we had in the demo and practical, this is probably a recipe I’d only make once. I found the overall taste and texture quite heavy and sweet, begging for more texture and contrast. It was a lot of work to build the cake up and get an even dome shape. And, with all due respect to any future daughters who are yet to be born not to mention Barbie herself, there is no time in the foreseeable future when I’ll be feeling energized to clean power-sprayed chocolate off my kitchen walls. Some things are best left to professionals.

Gateau Bozo

Based solely on appearance, Tresor Vanille-Fraises des Bois was quite possibly the oddest looking cake we’d made all term. I now really regret that I didn’t take a photo but the practical ran way over time and I was in a rush to catch the TGV. Truthfully, the finished cake looked like some sort of clown hat, with a decorative almond dacquoise base topped with a conical mound of wild strawberry mousse and finished with caramelized vanilla chiboust cream.

The dacquoise base was made by piping out into mounds around the edge of a vacherin mold. This created the scalloped edge of the cake when baked (or effectively the rippled brim of the clown hat!). The name of Tresor did not pop to mind when I looked at the finished result…I could only think of Bozo the Clown and this did not inspire images of luxury. I am guessing that the name of the cake was derived from the ‘treasure’ of fresh wild strawberries which were hidden in the center of the mousse cone.

I had great results with the dacquoise and the strawberry mousse. I achieved an even and smooth cone shape, which earned praise from Chef Deguignet. I discovered the technique to this smoothness was to hold the metal spatula in place against the surface of the mousse and spin the cake. The other students were doing the inverse, which was holding the cake still and trying to smooth the surface by moving the spatula around the surface.

It was our first experience in creating a crème chiboust. Crème Chiboust (named after its inventor, Chef Chiboust) is most often used in a traditional St. Honore. This is basically a crème patissiere that is mixed whilst hot with meringue to create a lighter, somewhat spongy textured mixture. The hot crème patissiere slightly cooks the meringue and helps it to trap the airiness. The heat also helps to sterilize the meringue.

As we were using a French meringue, the Crème Chiboust was less stable and despite the caramelized surface it had nearly disintegrated by the time I’d gotten back to Geneva. In addition to the disheveled appearance after a couple hours, it was also a very strange cake to cut and serve…having this huge pink mound of mousse at the tapered end of each slice. But the taste of the wild strawberry mousse was a real treat. With a bit of reshaping, this would be well worth making again.

Pleasure in angles

For whatever reason, Plaisir the gateau would be a square shaped cake. I found it an odd thing for a cake with a name as provocative as Pleasure, since all of my mental images of this word would involve more rounded shapes. Oh well, another one of those inexplicable French things I suppose (by this point I was keeping a list...)

Despite being angular, the taste lived up to the name. It was a combination of two cream layers – vanilla supreme and chocolate mousse – topped with a thin layer of biscuit joconde and finished with a croquant caramel. The techniques and recipes for each layer were very similar to things we’d already learned, with some notable differences.

The mousse was made with a milk-based ganache – the first I’d ever worked with. All the chocolate mousse we’d made so far was using a cream ganache. I couldn’t taste any difference in the finished gateau, but mixing this ganache was a touch more onerous. It was much more challenging to get a smooth ganache base, but I managed.

The vanilla supreme was very similar to a bavarois – consisting of cream, eggs, milk & gelatin but less gelatin than a bavarois. I guess for this fact they had to give it a different name.

By the time we were assembling the cake, I decided that I really liked the taste of biscuit joconde. It is a delicious sponge consisting of eggs, ground almonds, butter and powdered sugar to provide richness of taste, tempered with a French meringue to give the light & flexible texture. We’d first made it for the Opera gateau, and so the ingredients and technique were already familiar to me. Joconde is one of those sponge cakes which you can eat just as is, without any imbibing or additional toppings. I saved all my trimmings and wrapped them in foil to give to Isabelle.

The caramel layer was basically a mixture of beaten egg yolks sterilized with sugar syrup. So it was slightly airy in texture, the outer edge covered with cassonade sugar and then caramelized with a blowtorch to create a crisp shell.

We tempered dark chocolate and made decors to place atop the finished cake. I tried to create some complex and rather lengthy pieces to give more height to the finished cake. Unfortunately most of these broke and I ended up with a bunch of fragments. I put together what I had, and actually the result wasn’t bad. As I looked down the lens of my camera in taking the picture, I was suddenly reminded of a pirate ship…the chocolate decors sitting atop the golden caramel layer looked a bit like wreckage on a sandy beach.

Douceurs for Deux Soeurs

The week following the dark chocolate practical was filled with experiences involving (surprise, surprise!) more chocolate. The next practical was something called Douceur.

The name sounded promising indeed. I discovered this lovely entremet consisted of thin discs of milk chocolate, layered with milk chocolate mousse and dark chocolate-praline croquant, atop a base of hazelnut dacquoise. The finished taste combined the richness of nuts, the texture of a chocolate crunch bar and the smooth creaminess of rich mousse. It was indeed heavenly in the mouth, with the varied textures and flavours. And of course, it was once of those ‘ooh-ahh’ desserts which really excite people just by appearance alone.

I did well in tempering my milk chocolate and preparing the discs and forms of chocolate. I used the pot tempering method Chef Walther had shown us and avoided all the mess and hassle of cooling the chocolate atop the marble workbench. Anticipating an ample amount of leftover dacquoise mixture, I made several extra smaller discs and forms so I could construct some miniature Douceurs with the extra ingredients.

The milk chocolate mousse was very temperamental – both in the mixing stage and also during the decorating stage. Temperatures were critical at the mixing stage, when the thermal contrast between ingredients of different temperatures such as melted chocolate and whipped cream could easily cause the mixture to seize up or become grainy in texture. I managed to avoid any problems at the mixing stage, but by the time I was piping out the final garnishes of mousse atop the larger Douceur, the mixture was separating (just from the warmth of my hands – which by the way, are not very warm at all!).

The mini Douceurs were my favorites. They were very cute and could be savored in about 4 bites, and their appearance remained more or less intact during this process. The large Douceur was good looking until the first slice was removed….then it looked very disheveled very quickly. That said, there was a lot more of the delectable crunch layer to enjoy on the large Douceur.

I arrived at Isabelle’s to discover her sister was visiting – good thing I had multiples to share!!

Back to it

At some point in March, I fell off the blog wagon once again. Sorry for disappearing. It was a combination of workload and school I guess. Quite a few stories from Intermediate Pastry are yet to be told. So whilst I have now already moved into Superior Patisserie and new stories are beginning, I still have some catching up to do. So I am back to the keyboard - clackety-clack - keep checking back.