Dear Eaters and Readers,
I have only ever cooked on a line in a diner or casual setting so when the opportunity to stage around the corner arose after 8 months at Save on Meats I jumped on it wanting to gain some insight, some new skills and look like I have a modicum of aspiration to those who employ me.
Let me explain first off what staging is. First off it's pronounced “stodge” and is from the french word for “sucker” and is a synonym to “slave labourer” and a few other more derogatory terms - I kid. You see most of the worlds kitchens and indeed cooking have evolved from the French. They may not be able to win a battle but they can cook the fuck out of anything that flies, swims, crawls or is at all organic. As such the Brigade de Cuisine (Or French Brigade System) of running high-end kitchens is prevalent and even drizzles down to the lower echelons of the line and casual dining. At the top is the Chef de Cuisine (Chief of the Kitchen) and at the bottom is Garçon de Cuisine (literally "kitchen boy") and in between are about 20+ different positions each with a specific task and station. If you are interested click here to read more.
Stagiers are cooks who work for free in order to gain experience they may not be able to get otherwise and a few restaurants such as the world famous El Bulli (Now closed) “employed” stagiers exclusively with numerous extremely skilled chefs competing in order to essentially intern in the kitchen.
So, I had a very rare opportunity to work the kitchen of one of Vancouver’s top restaurants and I was excited if not a bit nervous. I hoped I would be up to the task. I showed up with my knives and tools, wearing my Save On whites and noticed first off how nice their whites all were compared to my shoddy over-washed over-used uniform
***Note to self: Buy personal whites.
I stepped on line and met Keiran (Saucier) Jeff (Entremetier) and Mark (Garde manger) - Aaron (Aboyuer) would show up later. All three were very friendly and welcomed me... putting me straight to work. Many chefs in high end dining prep all their mise en place on the day of service which means everything you put in your mouth at dinner was prepped a mere three or four hours previous from it's raw natural state. It seems fresh is the key to creating good food. It also creates a massive amount of labour costs which helps explain why those scallops melting on your tongue cost sixteen dollars for three. I set up at a small stainless table and proceeded to dice bacon for lardons – tiny bacon cubes rendered down and included in a few dishes and vinaigrettes. Jeffrey was supervising my prep and the first thing he said was, “You need to be more consistent.” My dice looked even and fine to me and the bacon was going to be cooked down but it's not my job to question my job is to do a good job. I slowed down and worked on precision. Three times he told me to be more consistent and by the end I was dicing perfect little squares of salty lard.
I tossed them into a large pot on the astonishingly hot flat top grill and left them to cook down, stirring occasionally. Apparently the flat top is so hot they turn it off at the end of the night and it is still warm the next morning. Kieran called it Mordor and I replied...“One does not just walk into Mordor,” but in my case apparently I did.
Back to my station I was to dice squash into equally small and precise cubes for use by Mark in the scallop dish for the evening. I focused on my knife and went to work. Each cube 1/3rd the size of a throwing die and all uniform. Mark looked at them,. “A little big,” he said, “but they'll work.”
Curses!!!
I almost burnt the lardons thanks to the hellish heat from Mordor but they were rescued in time. I tidied my station and was presented by Jeffery with a sandwich the fine folks from Meat and Bread had brought by for us. The crispy pork porchetta... Hells. Yes. This working for free thing was going well so far. After eating the sandwich there were also plates of what they were calling Country Mash. Mash potatoes done up on the fly and topped with a thick heavy portion of beef that was on it's way out along with a thick dark gravy. This was to be the staff meal before service but with the porchetta settling into my belly I had two bites of the rich dish and dumped the rest. As it was no one else really ate theirs either.
Dinner service started at 5:30 and I was to be assisting Mark as Garde manger (Keep to Eat), The term "garde manger" originated in pre-Revolutionary France. At that time, maintaining a large supply of food and beverage was an outward symbol of power, wealth and status. It is because of this duty of supervising the preserving of food and managing its utilization that many interpret the term "garde manger" .
"The food storage areas in these castles and manor houses were usually located in the lower levels, since the cool basement-like environment was ideal for storing food. These cold storage areas developed over time into the modern cold kitchen.
Most merchants who worked outside noble manors at this time were associated with a guild, an association of persons of the same trade formed for their mutual aid and protection. Guilds would develop training programs for their members, thereby preserving their knowledge and skills. "Charcuterie" was the name of a guild that prepared and sold cooked items made from pigs. Through this organization, the preparation of hams, bacon, sausages, pates and terrines were preserved. When the guild system was abolished early in the French Revolution in 1791, garde mangers took on the responsibility for tasks that had formerly been performed by characutieres, who had difficulty competing with the versatile garde mangers due to the limited range of skills involved." (Thank you Wikipedia.)
So, Mark and I as Guards of the Pantry would be hammering out cold plates, terrines, desserts and cheese platters as well as the fryer because someone has to fry the fucking astonishingly good Octopus chips which I over portioned by accident and got to sample.
Two customers. A bill. Poutine and a terrine of Foie Gras. I can make poutine blind-drunk and half asleep. No problem, just had to get the portioning down...
Anyhow, I was learning the various dishes that Aaron would call out as the bills came in and where checked by him at the pass for perfection before being sent out. I got in shit at one point because the Rum Baba I sent out had the Baba an inch to far away from the Rosemary ice cream (which is fucking sublime by the way!) I listened and remedied my plating realizing the importance of presentation.
Around 7:30 we filled up and got hit. Hard. Mark had the experience and relayed all the dishes he needed and I got on it. My timing seemed great, my plating pretty good and Mark was critical but supportive. Overall, we hammered out a massive amount of covers and a large number of desserts.
Midway through service Simon brought back a Chocolate Nib Parfait. A beautifully elegant minimalist chocolate delight of frozen mousse in a delicate ring of chocolate. It turns out the freezer had locked down the mousse to the point where the patron's spoon couldn't even scrape off a morsel. I didn't know it at the time but said patron also happened to be one of my best friends, Jessica and her mom who had stopped by for dinner. I pulled a number of the parfaits from the freezer and tempered them in the fridge, leaving them on the counter after plating for 5 minutes as well to soften them up. Success.
I had started at 2pm and we ran all the way through until 11 when the last entree went out. At this point I was treated to the evening's special. A perfectly cooked duck breast, skin hot and crispy over a layer of velvety fat and soft tender meat beside a small portion of agnoloti stuffed with some sort of rich creamy deliciousness. Only nine hours and they let me leave as I had to rush home to sleep as I had to be at S.O.M at 8am to pound out brunch. I will be going back next Saturday to do it all again... As Mark said before I left... “Work like a slave, eat like a King.” Truer words I haven't heard in a long while....
Until next time,
Eat Well...
Chris
Next time: Cheese and a Pretty Girl
No comments:
Post a Comment