Vacationing Moving Syndrome

My husband and I have an affliction. I am sure there is a name for it somewhere as every ailment these days has some sort of conjured up name. Let's just call it - vacationing moving syndrome. (Hey I am counting on my readers to come up with something catchier-a contest if you will) Here's the deal-everytime my husband and I travel somewhere we become star struck. Oh, this is the most beautiful place we have ever been we exclaim. Oh, pick up the real estate guide. Oh, look there is a storefront for lease. Oh, the cute little shops. Oh, the cute little restaurants. Totally sick we are. The only known cure for our disease is either unlimited funds so we could purchase a little pied a terre in each of our little crush towns or no traveling. And given our current economic state-the no traveling option seems to fit our bill.

But there is a hitch in our plans. We have wonderful friends who have wonderful jobs who know wonderful people who ask us to come to these wonderful places and work. Take the Berkshires for instance. We just returned from there. We went up to cook for the Food and Wine Festival at Tanglewood. If you haven't been there-go! Tanglewood is incredilble. We had lunch on the lawn listening to the Boston Pops rehearse-not so bad. Especially when you remember we were working! And we served dinner from a beautiful home with a gorgeous view of the mountains and a crazy bear looking for leftovers. And there was the beautiful couple who had the most incredible garden you have ever seen. We asked if we could live with them and they said yes. They must know cool people when they see them.

So we got the real estate flyer, and we took a little drive, and we commented on the empty storefront for lease. And in the end we left. On our flight home we experienced the most horrible see your life flashing ride we had ever been on. Once we landed we decided we didn't need to go anywhere for awhile. We were fine with being at home. Are we cured? No, we are sick, sick people. And we have a car.

Recipe Etiquette

Recently there is all of this talk about recipes. People have been asking me if the recipes I use are "mine" or if they have been passed down to me. And I have this ziplock bag that houses different spiral bound notebooks full of my penmanship and my life and am met with disbelief when I say that yes indeed these are my go to recipe books. Or I have been in a restaurant kitchen and been asked-do you have a recipe for this? Answering their own question, they whip out a cookbook straight off of their shelves and flip right to the recipe they are using, all of the recipes they are using straight from the books. Right, so what the hell am I talking about?

The etiquette of using recipes, how you obtain and attain them, and my ziplock bag. Not in that order!

I worked under a french pastry chef for many years. All of his recipes were handwritten in notebooks and they were kept in a plastic sleeve. The recipes came and went with him everyday. No one except him ever went into his books. You wouldn't have been able to decipher them once opened anyway. But most importantly, it was out of respect for him. He worked so hard and for many years to get all of those recipes. For someone just to open that book and start copying his recipes would have been the ultimate betrayal but it would also show right away just how stupid and disrespectful that person was. That was how he judged people-he knew the ones that only wanted his recipes. Then he would just watch what he showed them, after all method is just as important as the ingredients. You can't do one without the other. Or he would just scream at you everyday until you found a new job. I have carried this with me. Definitely the ziplock full of notebooks, but also the eye for recipe hawkers. What? Okay-so it is not as covert, secret service as that, but just understand this. When someone comes to work for you and they have been there just a week and they start asking for your recipes for everything and saying how good everything is-I am not flattered! The first thing I start to do is look at how they work. You can't keep your area clean or get your station ready for service but you want my recipes? How about this-liken it to the karate kid. Ralph Macchio was not allowed to start learning the moves until he learned basic discipline. Karate baby-now it's clear, right? It is all about respect and oddly enough the food network doesn't teach that.

Now, about this little ziplock bag of recipes I have. And trust me on this, most kitchens I go into, the pastry chefs have a binder with all of their recipes in little plastic sleeves, with them all typed up for 1x, 5x, 10x. Me? Not so much, no. Well I do have recipes typed up all housed in their little plastic sleeves in their binders on their shelf in their place. But they don't like to come out so much really for me. They are for the cooks. You see, I don't know where to find the recipes in those books. In my notebooks, I know in which book I will find the recipe and where in the book it will be. It's sentimental for sure. Getting into those books is recalling all of the time spent doing this. It's like constant flashbacks but in a good way.

And onto cookbooks and those recipes being "mine." First to the cookbooks-they are wonderful sources of reference. They have beautiful pictures, they inspire, professional ones can teach new techniques. Do they belong on your shelf in your professional kitchen? I will hear cries about this one I am sure and I am prepared. I say no. These books are for reference and should remain in your home library. Why? Liken it to this- original artwork is more valuable than a reproduction, okay. The original has the soul, the heart. God bless you if you can open books and make exactly what is in them because it makes life a lot easier. You don't have to figure anything out. Everything is done for you. And again I may hear cries of there is nothing original left, everything has already been done. And some of that is true, but when you see something, don't you want to put your heart in it? I believe people know the difference. Which leads me to are these recipes "mine?" Well I don't know if I can own them. The recipes I use are all based on something I have been taught or I have found in books. Blasphemy you cry! Liar! Hold on! Some of the ones (not all) I have been taught, I have changed over time as I have changed. I can honestly tell you I don't use anything verbatim out of a book. I do take the original recipe and try it and then I change it based on what I would like to achieve. I don't say I want to make a chocolate cake, let's start with 7 eggs, 500 g sugar. Hell no! Do people do that? You can because everything is based on a ratio so let's go ahead and God bless all of those people, too because that is one heck of a job.

But in the end these are all just my beliefs and musings and I am the last one to tell you this is the way because I oftentimes can't remember which is my left and which is my right. But guess what? This is my blog!

I've Got Cakes Coming Out My....

I think one of the first things people ask you when they find out you are a chef, or even a cook, is "What is your speciality?" "Speciality!" I used to exclaim. "Well I can drink two sailors under the table and be back to the boat before them in the morning!" After receiving one too many sideways glances it finally occurred to me people were referring to pastry specifically not life in general. At the time I was obviously much more versed in the latter. So in answering their queries, I could not. I was really, truly stumped. There was no speciality. And they were asking a mere cook. Did they think perhaps I worked in an Italian restaurant where I could have been say the zabaglione queen. But this question to me also meant I had to love my "speciality." So zabaglione queen or not, was there something I saw myself in love with. My alarm clock goes off at 5 am (or I have just gotten in after a night with the sailors) and I jump out of bed singing "zabaglione I must whip you, my day is not complete without you." No. I really just couldn't see anything like that. Nothing that I had ever made at that point or for many years after elicited small cries of excitement or longing looks. I do love and have always loved what I do but I'm not a banker or mortgage broker or another job with titles. A job where I can tell you what my speciality is because it says it on my business card. Probably a more fair question is "What's not your speciality?" How long do you have, we'll see what's left after I'm done kind of thing. But alas, love is in the air!

Let's speak of this love shall we? Cakes. That's it. Carrot cake, red velvet, lemon pound you ask. No, simply cakes. It's not the flavor I am in love with. I love them all already. To me there is nothing finer than a really good cake. I don't mean the mousse filled glazed affairs, either. Those are beautiful and complicated and I do enjoy making them. But if I am eating a cake, I want a cake. A toothsome one like the ones I grew up on (except the ones I grew up on were filled with funfetti and artificial strawberry flavoring!). It doesn't even have to be a 3-layer cake. Just cake and buttercream or chocolate frosting or cream cheese or curd. It's about the layers of goodness not so much as what comprises them. I just want every layer of it to be delicious. No syrup dredged cake for me. If a cake is dry, it's dry. Syrup won't make it moist. It will make it a wet dry cake and maybe some people like to believe that is a good contrast, but I am not one of them. One of my strong beliefs is that if you don't like cake it's because you have never had a good one.

And I like the decorating. Probably because they are all different. A little bit of me, a little bit of the recipient in each one. I like the fact the cakes are for celebrations. My favorite part is when I deliver them and the box is opened and I see a big smile. And sometimes a hint of happy tears. Those are maybe the real reasons for my love of cakes. The old memories of them and the new ones they are making, I may be on my way to answering one very complicated question.

Millions of Peaches

OMG! Okay, I have been waiting MONTHS to be able to use that in something more than texting with my teenage sister! Or my husband LOL! But seriously the peaches this year are a little bit of that. I just got some. I was a little scared I admit. And before I go on, I am not trying to offend any peach growers. I am simply speaking from my own peach experiences the last couple of years. The peaches just were not what I remembered. They looked beautiful but yes, their beauty was skin deep. The ones I encountered were either ripe feeling but dry and tasteless or knock your ex-boyfriend out hard as a rock acidic. When choosing between the two, I always picked the latter for two reasons. You could always cook or quickly poach them and bring out some peachy flavor. And just the thought of knocking out your boyfriend with a rock hard peach was enough to bring a smile to your face and make you forget about the lack of peachiness for a second. I was a little more like doubled over in laughter but that seems a little boastful. Those poor dry guys, there was just no helping them. And to be honest with you, I didn't want to. I mean if I you are soooo bad I have to dress you up just to take you out and once we get out everyone is just like 'oh, he's here?' then I don't want to take the time to dress you up. Make sense?

But this year-I haven't seen those problems. Even the firmer peaches I have gotten still have a beautiful perfume to them. You can see from their little blushing cheeks and sweet peach flesh they are only going to get better. And the ripe ones should be labled candy, truly. I just hope everyone else is having a great peach experience. Oh please let the rest of the season yield such delights.

What can I do with them you cry! Whatever you would like of course. Summer is not complete without peach pie or cobbler or crisp or ice cream! Sauté them with a little sugar, vanilla and butter. Finish with a little Sauternes, over ice cream, beautiful! Poach them in a white wine syrup. Dress them up with fresh herbs like thyme. You can even serve them with pork or chicken. In a salad you say? Why not! Just eat them and enjoy them now in their season.

I was recently asked to make a video tape (stop!) and demonstrate a summer dessert I like to make. There is a peach tart I like to make that is so simple and delicious. It is a little more sophisticated than serving a pie and it is even easier. The recipe and directions follow. You can watch me make the tart on www.palmbeachfoodandwinefestival.com and read about the event taking place in December.

Peach Tart

Frozen Puff Pastry - this tart takes 1/2 package of the Pepperidge Farms brand

3-4 peaches-firm but not hard

1/3 recipe almond cream-recipe follows

One rectangle tart pan w/removeable bottom (4"x 13.5")

1/2 stick of butter, melted for brushing the tart just before baking

2 T sugar for sprinkling on the tart just before baking

Thaw one piece of the puff pastry and roll out until it is about 14.5" in length. This doesn't have to be exact, but the puff should be just longer than the pan so it covers the ends and drapes well over the long sides. Dock the pastry with a fork or dough docker and place in the sprayed tart pan. Press gently on the bottom and up the sides. Do not trim. Reserve in the freezer until ready to use.

Almond cream:

4 oz butter, room temp

4 oz sugar

4 oz almond flour

3 ea eggs, room temp

Combine butter, sugar, and flour in a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Mix just until the ingredients start to stick to the sides. Add the eggs one at a time, scraping between each addition. Mix until everything is combined. The mixture should be all one color. The left over almond cream may be frozen in an airtight container.

To assemble:

Preheat oven to 350℉. Remove the tart shell from the freezer. Trim the long sides, leaving about 1/4" on each side. Spoon about 1/3 of the almond cream into the shell and spread out evenly along the bottom. Slice the peaches about 1/8" thick and shingle onto the almond cream. Fold in the long sides of the puff and place the tart back in the freezer. Melt 1/2 stick of butter, brush over the tart and sprinkle with a little sugar. Bake the tart for 30-40 minutes. The puff will be golden brown and the almond cream will be starting to color. Serve warm or room temperature with pistachio ice cream and a summer fruit salad or out of a picnic basket with a nice glass of sauternes.

Dry Heat My A#*.....

Take a seat because I am back already! It's a miracle. Or maybe my life is just too darn exciting to keep it to myself. Yeah, I vote for miracle, too.

So, I just returned from Arizona. Just to clear one detail up-that dry heat thing is a LIE! Yes, I already was a true believer of the lie, but after soaking up the 105℉(yes the F is extremely important here!!) heat at 10PM(!!!)-okay that may be a lie-but point being it is HOT. Sweaty, pants sticking to you, gum melting, business card ruining, hot. I am still trying to figure out why one of the restaurants has ginormous torches lighting(heating) their outside seating. Or I guess why for that matter I took part in their al fresco dining? Florida ocean breeze I love you!

ANYWAY..., I was there for the world pastry forum. I went to attend a class on wedding cakes and watch National Pastry Team Championship. The winner of the competition goes on to compete in the World Pastry Championship. The competition was 2 days and the teams had to complete a chocolate showpiece, sugar showpiece, entremet, plated dessert, bonbons, petit gateau, entremet glace, presentation piece for their bonbons, as well as being judged on cleanliness, teamwork, organization. It all sounds easy, right? I mean the 2 days it's like 12 whole hours. That's like a crazy amount of time. And you have 3 people on your team except for the one team that only had 2+one broken finger. Oh, and did I mention that you have specific times to present your entremet, petit gateau, etc., throughout the competition. You just don't hit a bell and say done. They tell you. Yeah, hats off to all of the competitors. You prepare for months, mostly on your own dime. Oh, and the whole time you are working, the judges can come over and talk to you about what you are doing. No, seriously, kudos to them all. Just the months of practice takes so much discipline. They should all be winners right? You can check out www.pastrychampionship.com to see the winners and to see pictures.

Now about the wedding cakes. I never really did any wedding cakes. I made gumpaste flowers for a wedding cake. And I made a figurine, not for a wedding cake. He would be more like for some crazy tripped out party cake. Do people have many of those? But I met some great new friends and saw a lot of cool stuff. I actually brought my whole crazy cake man home (he got checked with the luggage) and he sits here with me now. Well in the office and he scares me everytime I go in. But not bad enough that you wouldn't want him for your crazy tripped out party!

Jambon or Jamon?

As I have mentioned-I am no blogger. But I am a traveler. I just got back from the most amazing European vacation (if I may!). My husband and I went to France and Spain. I had never been to Europe before. What? And you call yourself a pastry chef-this cannot be true. But yes my dear friends-it is. Do I feel like a fraud? No, just a sneaky girl from Ohio. We spent a week in Paris, which was not enough time AT ALL. I had only just begun to find my favorites. And we didn't even have time to see any museums. We did manage to sneak in the sewer tour. Yes, the sewer does run right under you in the tour and yes it is rank. All of the outdoor markets are incredible. We went to a different one each day. Just the sight of those chickens on the rotisserie with all of those beautiful little potatoes roasting underneath makes me want to cry. The fragrance of the peaches, strawberries, apricots is so much finer than any Chanel no.5. So after Paris, we went to Barcelona. Praise be to the Iberico ham gods. If I was down to my last bill, I would spend it on Jamon Iberico. And I would probably beg for just a little bit more! The market in Barcelona is incredible, too. I loved the fact that you could eat at the little stalls in the market. And the cake on the stick-sick! I could have used way more time in Barcelona, too. Just too much to eat, too much architecture to be awed by. Then it was off to Majorca for a little paella on the beach and to see old friends. Great friends to have moved to Majorca, really. Then on to Aix-en-Provence-to the markets and mountains. I know what you are thinking-"You Jennifer are a wild European traveler. You do get around!" Go ahead, be jealous, be very, very jealous. I would be!

What?

So, I am obviously not so good at this blogging thing but I am okay with that! I do have a good excuse for it though. I have been keeping busy since my ages ago post. I am currently working as a pastry chef at a restaurant that is allowing me to use their kitchen to do all of my sugar monkey production. Yippee for me! I started the green market about a month ago and I am loving it. The response has been great. What do I love about it? I can actually see my customers. When you are in a restaurant you don't know who is getting your desserts. Now I know who my regulars are! I was just crazy making pies for Thanksgiving and am gearing up for the rest of the holiday season. And just trying to get everything together with my website and working out all of the everyday monkey details. So, back to the details and Happy Holidays!