I could have saved $40,000 and 6 months, endless cuts and burns, bad hair days, bruised egos, fashion disasters, gas that could peel the paint off the side of a barn, and having cats follow me home because I smelled like a mackerel! If I'd only waited 5 years...

Y'all have heard me prattle on about cooking school and know that I attended the full time 6-month culinary program at the FCI a few years ago (and yes I experienced all of the above... in abundance!) so when I saw this book come out, I had to buy it. Like James Peterson's Sauces, this book too could ballast a boat - all 500 pages! - but it is also a veritable treasure chest, a culinary Fort Knox if you will, of all things cooking. If Techniques is the only cookbook you ever purchase, you'd be set.

Techniques is almost verbatim our first quarter (6 week) curriculum. Really! Word for word, gram for gram, ingredient for ingredient. I even pulled out my notebook and compared the Sauces section. Exactly the same. Our first quarter was spent learning these 250 techniques. I had to learn all 250 since before I went to cooking school I burned water! I still do, just less often... But I digress... We then spent the next 3 quarters refining and practicing and expanding on all these techniques. So if you don't want to sacrifice 6 months and $40,000 and the above mentioned humiliations to attend cooking school, then buy this book and cook every recipe over and over and you will become an excellent cook. If you master all the skills and techniques in the book, you can walk into any kitchen (even in France!) and hold your own as this is the foundation of classic cooking and the language of the kitchen.

Hints and tips from the Deans and Chef Instructors pepper the book in every technique with tidbits such as "...cook beans at a constant low temperature and cool them in their cooking liquid. ~Dean Alain Sailhac" or "Do not cover a chicken after roasting or it will steam and make the meat taste reheated." ~Dean Jacques Pepin". It's like getting a personal cooking lesson from some of the world's the greatest chefs. A few that I'm not sure made it into the book that will I will never for include, "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean ~Chef Henri Viain" and "What you put in the pot, you get out of the pot. ~Chef Pascal Beric" and God love them both for their dedication to their students.

Techniques teaches the 250 classic foundation techniques including stocks, sauces, soups, salads, eggs, potatoes, poultry, game, beef, veal, lamb, pork, fish, shellfish, marinades, stuffings, organ meats (my least favorite day in cooking school!), pastry dough, creams & custards, crepes, brioche, frozen desserts, meringues, mousses, and soufflés (my favorite day in cooking school! :) As I flipped the pages, 6 months of my life flashed before my eyes, intermittently cringing while remembering slicing off the tip of my thumb on the mandoline or burning my wrist on the convection oven and laughing out loud picturing the over-whipped genoise, splattered pommes anna, and over-salted Poulet Rôti Grand-mère.

Many if not all of the recipes in my humble little blog, such as a Christmas Menu and Magret de Canard aux Figues de Vendée, are based on the foundation and techniques I learned in cooking school. Techniques also explains in great detail terms in a kitchen, names of equipment and pots and pans (and the difference between stainless steel and aluminum, cast iron, non-stick and the benefits and pit falls of each), food safety, knifes and knife skills, and professional kitchen management.

If you want to become an great home chef or are considering or about to attend cooking school, I implore you to devour (pun intended) this book. If you learn all the techniques, or at least become familiar with them, then you will be leaps and bounds ahead of the game. Bon courage et bon appetit!

Michael, Beverly, Michele, and me proudly displaying our Poulet Rôti Grand-mère

Poulet Rôti Grand-mère -- Grandmother's Roast Chicken
Serves 4
Estimated time: 1-1/2 hours

Ingredients
For the chicken:
• 3-1/2 lb (1.5 kg) roasting chicken (including neck, gizzards, heart)
• coarse salt, fresh ground pepper
• 2 tablespoons (30 gr) unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) vegetable oil
• 3-1/2 ounces (100 gr) carrots, mirepoix (rough chopped)
• 3-1/2 ounces (100 gr) onions, mirepoix (rough chopped)

For the garnish:
• 14 ounces (400 gr) russet potatoes, peeled
• 3-1/2 ounces (100 gr) slab bacon
• 4-1/2 ounces (125 gr) button mushrooms, cleaned
• coarse salt, fresh ground pepper
• 2-1/2 ounces (70 gr) pearl onions
• 3 tablespoons (40 gr) unsalted butter
• 1 teaspoon (7 gr) sugar
• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) vegetable oil
• 2 tablespoons (10 gr) flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

For the gravy:
• 3-1/2 tablespoons (50 ml) dry white wine
• 2 cups + 2 tablespoons (500 ml) brown veal stock
• coarse salt, fresh ground pepper to taste (optional)

Equipment:
• Chef's Knife
• Trussing twine
• Trussing needle (optional)
• Heavy-bottomed roasting pan or poêle
• Instant read thermometer (if necessary)
• Paring knife
• Large shallow saucepan
• Strainer
• Small, sharp knife
• Sauté pan
• Slotted spoon
• Paper towels
• Stainless steel bowl
• Sautoir or russe
• Parchment paper
• Ovenproof poêle
• Heatproof bowl
• Wire rack
• Baking pan
• Wooden spoon
• Boning knife
• Large metal spoon
• 4 warm dinner plates (I will never ever ever forget Chef Henri admonishing us with "Hot food, hot plate. Cold food, cold plate!")

Preparation
1. Prepare your mise en place.

2. Preheat the oven to 450°F (232°C)

3. Remove and reserve the gizzard, neck and heart from the chicken; set the liver aside for another use. Using a chef's knife, carefully trim the chicken of excess fat. Season and truss the chicken.

4. Heat the butter and oil in a heavy-bottomed roasting pan or poêle over medium heat. Add the chicken and sear, turning frequently without pricking the skin, for about 10 minutes or until the thighs and legs are well-browned and the breast is just lightly browned.

5. When all sides have browned, turn the chicken on its back and add the gizzard, neck and heart to the pan. Place the pan in the oven and roast for 10 minutes.

6. Add the mirepoix vegetables and toss to coat with a bit of fat.

7. Continue to roast, basting frequently, for about 40 minutes or until the skin is golden brown and the juices run clear from a hole poked in the thigh or when the internal temperature measured between the breast and thigh registers 60°C to 66°C (140°F to 150°F).

8. While the chicken is roasting, prepare the garnish.

9. Using a paring knife, turn the potatoes into 5-centimeter (2-inch) cocottes (small football shapes with 7 sides). Place the potatoes in a single layer in a large shallow sauce pan with cold water to just barely cover over high heat. Bring to a simmer. Immediately remove from heat, drain well without refreshing, and set aside to air dry.

10. Cut the bacon into 1/2-inch (1.3-centimeter) thick slices and then into strips about 1/2-inch (1.3-centimeter) wide to form lardons.

11. Place the bacon in a sauté pan over medium-high heat and sauté for about 5 minutes or until the bacon has rendered its; fat but has not browned. sing a slotted spoon, transfer the lardons to paper towels to drain, leaving the rendered fat in the sauté pan.

12. If the mushrooms are small, leave them whole; if large, cut them into quarters. Add the mushrooms to the rendered bacon fat. Place the pan over medium heat, season the mushrooms with salt and pepper to taste, and sauté for about 5 minutes or until just lightly browned on the edges. Set aside.

13. Place the onions in a stainless steel bowl with hot water to cover. Soak for about 3 minutes or until the skins have loosened. Drain well and, using your fingertips, push off the skins.

14. Place onions in a single layer in a sautoir or russe just large enough to accommodate them over medium heat. Add 1 tablespoon (15 gr) of the butter, the sugar, and just enough water to barely cover the bottom of the pan. Salt to taste. Cover with a piece of parchment cut to the exact size of the pan opening to make a loose lid and glacer à brun (cook until a golden brown). (Take care not to use too much water, as the onions will steam and overcook rather than brown. They should begin to brown in the remaining butter after the water has evaporated.) Taste, and if necessary, add seasoning. Set aside and keep warm until ready to serve.

15. About 10 minutes before the chicken is ready to come out of the oven, heat an ovenproof poêle over medium heat. When hot but not smoking, add the oil. Add the potatoes, keeping them in a single layer. Sauté for about 5 minutes or until all of the potatoes are evenly browned. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons (25 gr) of butter and season with salt and pepper to taste. Please the potatoes in the oven and roast for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown and tender when pierced with the point of a small, sharp knife.

16. When all the garnish items have been cooked, combine them in a heatproof bowl. Toss to blend, then sprinkle with parsley. Set aside and keep warm for service.

17. When the chicken is done, remove it from the oven, drain off and reserve the fat, and transfer the bird to a wire rack placed over a baking pan to rest. While the chicken is resting, make the gravy (jus de rôti)

18. If the pan drippings have not caramelized during roasting, place the pan on the stovetop over high heat and bring to a boil. Boil just until the drippings caramelize; take care that they do not burn. Carefully drain off the fat. Lower the heat and add the white wine to the pan, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon to lift up the sucs and deglaze the pan. Add the stock and stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and cook at a bare simmer, stirring frequently, for about 10 minutes or until the mixture is slightly reduced and fall-flavored. Taste, and if necessary, season with salt and pepper. Strain. Keep warm until ready for service.

19. Using a boning knife, remove the breasts and the thighs from the chicken. Manchonner the ends of the drumsticks (cut off the big joint at the end of the drumstick) and the wings. Cut each breast half into two pieces on the bias. Cut the legs in half at the joint. Remove the thigh bones and any cartilage. You should now have 8 pieces

20. Assemble one leg piece with one breast piece on each of the four warm dinner plates, taking care that only one of the pieces on each plate has a bone.

21. Garnish each plate with an equal portion of the warm vegetables. Spoon the gravy around the chicken pieces. Serve remaining gravy on the side.

WHEW! All that for a roast chicken!
Bon appetit!

PS: Don't miss Michael Procopio's interview with FCI President, Dorothy Cann Hamilton where they discuss her PBS show "Chef's Story," her tenure as Chairman of the James Beard House and her day job running the FCI.

You know the old saying: "It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive"? Well, that's literally true when you're dining out in San Francisco and relying on taxi service. Forget about the cab being on time, most of the time you just hope it shows up at all.

My husband and I MUNI'd for a few years, but door-to-door, the travel time was sometimes over an hour when the restaurant was only ten minutes away by car. We have our own car, but parking is a nightmare in some neighborhoods and we enjoy wine with dinner. There are enough drunk drivers careering around the streets of San Francisco, we don't need to add to them.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but when you call a cab company and they tell you they're sending a cab your way, you've entered into an agreement. They've agreed to send you something, and you've agreed to wait. And wait. And wait. AND WAIT!

It's gotten so bad that after we call a cab, we now look at the clock and estimate how long we'll wait before we try to hail one off the street or call another company.

For us, the worst cab offenders have been Luxor and Yellow Cab. They're both equally horrible, and by the time we finally weaned ourselves off of both companies, we had lost count how many times we had called for cabs that never showed up. We lost count of how many times we paced around the sidewalk outside our building, straining through the dark to find the muted light on top of a car roof. We lost count of how many times we called the cab company back to ask where the HELL our promised cab was only to be met with a busy signal over and over and over and OVER again!

We've also lost count of how many times we've had to call sympathetic hosts and hostesses and push our reservation by 15, 40, 60 minutes. Another time, we weren't so lucky and we lost our reservation and our dinner. We had Luxor to thank for completely ruining a night out we had been anticipating for weeks.

Of course now, some restaurants have even started instituting a grace period. If you don't show up, say, within 15 minutes of your original reservation time, you risk losing the reservation entirely. I don't blame the restaurants for this policy, because just like ordering a cab, a reservation is an agreement. A contract. A promise to show up when you said you would show up.

Why don't the cab companies understand this?

Before I start talking about Homemade Macaroni and Cheese, I wanted to say hello and introduce myself, as I'm a new blogger on BAB. I am a writer, editor, and mother of two 7-year old twin girls. I am also obsessed with food and so spend a lot of time thinking about what to feed those two girls (as well as my husband and myself). Meals at our house are often a struggle between what I want to make and what they want to eat, with compromises on both sides. Luckily we all have pretty open palates so everyone is usually happy.

Last Friday night was a perfect example for how this little game of tug-of-war works. I wanted to make a brisket (a lovely Prather Ranch grass fed cut that I got at the farmer’s market). My daughters, however, had other plans. When I mentioned in the morning that I would make them a barbecued brisket during our traditional Friday Movie Night dinner, they both looked at me and frowned. Maddie said she wanted macaroni and cheese and Sophie agreed. As we were late for school, I ignored the comment so we could finish our morning routine, find shoes and rain jackets, and leave the house five minutes late for the bell. Although I like my children to want to eat whatever I make, my general rule is that I'm the mom and the cook, so I get to decide and I was determined to make brisket. Later that day, however, as I walked toward the grocery story in the cold rain, shivering and trying not to step in puddles, I realized that my daughters might be on to something. It really was the perfect day for homemade macaroni and cheese, all oozy and gooey and warm. My cold body started to crave it.

One thing I love about macaroni and cheese (other than its wonderful comfort food appeal), is that you can tweak it to suit your family’s needs. You can pretty much use whatever cheeses you like: I’ve had Italian versions with mozzarella and provolone, traditional versions with cheddar and American cheeses, and more epicurean types made with a roux, beautiful European cheeses, and heavy cream. You can add meat (such as ham, which I think tastes delicious), vegetables and herbs (parsley, peas, spinach and wild mushrooms are great), eggs (to fluff it up in the oven), or even toasted nuts (which I once saw and, I must admit, found appalling).

At our house, however, macaroni and cheese is usually simply what the name suggests –macaroni, cheese, and some milk and butter along with seasonings for a little extra flavor. I'm a food purist (well, at least most of the time) and so don't like to add too many ingredients to the dish as I want to taste the delicious cheese and pasta flavors. I also like to use at least three different types of cheeses as it gives the dish a richer and more nuanced taste. It's great to throw in something creamy (I like medium Tillamook cheddar or Colby), something sharp like aged provolone, Parmesan, or Gruyère, and something with a slightly distinct taste like Fontina or Cotswold.

A general rule for homemade macaroni and cheese is to make sure that every piece of pasta is covered in some creamy goodness. You don’t want a rude awakening from comfort-food nirvana by biting into a piece of plain pasta instead of bubbling savory cheese-coated noodles. Likewise, it's unappealing when the cheese clumps together in separated blobs.

To coat each piece of pasta, I make a roux and then add in some warm milk and whatever creamy cheese I'm using, which makes a thick cheesy sauce. I then pour this over some previously cooked al dente pasta. I try to cook the pasta ahead of time, so it's room temperature or cool when I use it, which in turn brings the cheese sauce down in temperature when you mix them together. The pasta, now blanketed in the cheese sauce, is ready to mix with the other cheeses. Because the pasta isn't hot, the other cheeses don't immediately melt when you add them in, allowing them to instead melt into and permeate the pasta while it's baking. This also allows the three cheeses to maintain more distinct flavors in the final dish as they melt on their own instead of together. Once I add the pasta to the buttered baking dish, I top it all with fresh breadcrumbs (usually heels of sliced bread chopped in the Cuisinart), which end up melting into the cheese on top to create a crunchy and slightly salty topping for the dish.

When I pulled the final dish from the oven last Friday, the cheeses were bubbling up and the top was crispy and crunchy. I served everyone a healthy portion alongside a plate of green salad (the cool crispness of the lettuce nicely accented the hot cheesy pasta). So there we were, kids and adults devouring homemade macaroni and cheese while watching Home on the Range. As I sat there watching Maggie and Mrs. Calloway outwit Alameda Slim, I realized this was really the perfect dish for our evening. If you’re unfamiliar with the movie, Maggie and Mrs. Calloway are cows, and so it would have been unseemly to have the beef brisket for dinner.

Homemade Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients:

1 lb smallish pasta (such as celentani, small penne, or elbow)
1 ½ cups grated and packed Tillamook medium cheddar or Colby cheese
1 cup grated and packed Fontina or Cotswold cheese
1 cup grated and packed Gruyère, Parmesan, or aged provolone cheese
2 cups whole milk plus ½ cup to pour in later
1 Tbsp butter
1 tsp flour
½ - 1 tsp salt
½ tsp pepper
A dash of nutmeg
½ cup fresh bread crumbs

Preparation:

1. Cook pasta until al dente. Run cold water over it in a colander until it cools. Set aside. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Butter a large casserole dish.
3. Grate cheeses and set them aside.
4. Heat the milk in a sauce pan, being sure not to let it boil. Turn off heat and cover until ready to use.
5. In a medium sauce pan, melt butter on medium heat. Whisk in the flour when it starts to bubble, making a roux .
6. Add in the 2 cups of warm milk, whisking to incorporate it into the roux. Warm on medium until small bubbles start to form in the milk.
7. Turn off the heat and add the Tillamook or Colby cheese, stirring until it evenly melts and becomes smooth.
8. Add a ½ tsp salt, the nutmeg and the pepper to season.
9. In a large pot or bowl, mix the cooled pasta with the cheese sauce. Stir until the sauce is completely incorporated. Taste a piece of pasta and add the other ½ tsp of salt and more pepper if desired.
10. Add in the other two cheeses and gently stir so most of the cheese retains its grated appearance.
11. Place pasta and cheese in the buttered casserole dish and drizzle the remaining half cup of milk on top.
12. Spread the fresh bread crumbs evenly on top.
13. Oil a piece of aluminum foil large enough to cover the casserole dish and tighten it around the sides, oil side down.
14. Bake for 20 – 25 minutes or until the cheese starts to bubble up from inside the pasta.
15. Uncover the dish and bake for another 5-7 minutes or until the top starts to nicely brown and crisp up. Serve immediately.

I've always wondered why street food was not as popular in the US. And then I started trying to understand health codes, land use policy, business permits, tax laws, risk management briefs, and sidewalk obstruction ordinances. I soon lost my appetite. The confusion was enough to make me give up on ever enjoying hot rice cakes while sitting on a plastic stool leaned up against a park wall or discovering the best roasted yams ever at the entrance to a post office.

Farmers' markets also face similar difficulties in getting started. While some neighbors relish the thought of fresh mesclun within walking distance, others fear backed-up traffic, loss of what little parking they already have, trash littering their yards, and rodents gathering for weekly food fests. Public parks, natural places for impromptu booths, end up having conflicts in mission and charter with profitable enterprise. Market management, like any other business or nonprofit, has its own risks and rewards and crazy ways of doing things. And finally, farmers have enough to keep them busy in their fields without having to face a long drive into the city. Not many can make a living for their families by standing around selling a few carrots here or some organic apples there, while their thin profit margins preclude hiring retail staff.

In many other countries, people figure out how to make use of every bit of space, material and time. While I understand the need for protecting the public, I'd love to see us loosen up just a little bit and support more micro-businesses, more diversity in the food market, and more openness and curiosity in place of fear and nimbyness.

A couple of months ago, my next-door neighbor decided that he didn't like the shape of my waist-high rosemary bush, the one I tended in that tiny patch of soil cut into the sidewalk in front of my building. So, without asking me, he cut it down to a stub of three inches and then poured so-called river stones over the space. A few weeks later, "someone" planted a begonia where my rosemary bush used to be. Not even a scented begonia, thank you very much. When pressed, my neighbor mentioned words like "property value" and "attractive landscaping." He's a new home-owner; I'm one of the last renters still toughing it out on my block. A sprawling, eight-year-old rosemary bush apparently does not have a place in my changing neighborhood.

Fortunately, another old neighbor realized how sad I was and planted a small, three-sprigged sprout of a baby rosemary plant next to the useless begonia. I look forward to watching it grow, and I hope that we both--my rugged herb and I--will still have a place to flourish on this shined-up street.

And about that video above: be sure to watch to the very end to see the magic happen.

Always searching for a happy, late-night snack, I recently turned my attention to Welsh Rarebit, primarily because I'd never had it before. I'm not Welsh.

I'd heard tell of rarebit, garnering sufficient information to know that rabbit meat was not involved, yet not enough to understand that this was not some vegetarian variation on S. O. S. , also known as chipped beef on toast. I was certain of two things: 1) bread and cheese were involved and 2) the Welsh were not being flattered in the naming of this dish. I did a little research.

Yes, it was cheese toast and, no, praise for Welsh culture was not intended. Though ostensibly an English dish (other British and European cultures have their own versions), the original name of the dish was Welsh Rabbit. In England, rabbit was considered poor man's meat so, in a rather clever, back-handed way, naming the dish "Welsh Rabbit" suggested that, not only were the Welsh poor, as they were, but too stupid and/or lazy to go out and capture their own prey, thus having to satisfy their hunger with bread and cheese. It's 18th Century insult food. But it's good, both as an insult and as a dish.

Sometime in the late 19th Century, some forward thinking, politically correct person or personess took pity upon the poor Welsh and softened the name by changing it to Welsh Rarebit, taking with it much of the bite. In a sense, making it blander than it need be.

Personally, I think the Welsh are doing just fine. How can one not love a culture that has given the world Tom Jones, Dame Shirley Bassey, and countless vowel-shy place names that no one but an insider can pronounce? And I would argue that this dish is for the lazy. Lazy is a grilled cheese sandwich. Think of this as a grilled cheese sandwich that requires a bit more effort.

Welsh Rarebit with Apples

The rarebit recipe is taken directly from New York Times food columnist Mark Bittman, a.k.a The Minimalist. You can go directly to a video of him preparing the dish here, which is what made me want to make it in the first place. In fact, I spent so much time sitting at my desk, watching his videos I got very little done that day. I've always enjoyed reading him, but I am now an even bigger fan of his as a result of seeing him on camera.

There are a great number of variations on the rarebit-like, cheese on toast theme. I have chosen to prepare Bittman's because, apart from being extremely simple to prepare, it has a little spicy kick. I added sliced apples because I like apples, which is reason enough.

Ingredients:

For the Rarebit:

2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon dried mustard
a healthy pinch of cayenne pepper
1/2 bottle of good, dark English beer, like Guinness Stout
a few generous shakes of Worstershire sauce
1 pound excellent English cheddar, grated

For the Rest:

1 loaf of good, hearty wheat or white bread. I do not recommend sliced sandwich bread. The results will depress you.

1 tart, sweet apple, sliced thinly. I used Pink Lady, because I like their flavor, they're available and I loved the pop duo as a child. Granny Smith will do, too.

1 bunch scallion, chopped

Preparation:

1. In a saucepan large enough to contain all of the ingredients, melt butter over medium low heat and add flour. Cook the mixture, stirring with a wooden spoon, until it is dirty blonde in color and smells faintly nutty.

2. Add mustard and cayenne pepper, then pour in the beer, stirring all the while.

3. Add Worstershire sauce (if you add the sauce before the beer, the sauce will burn, sending up blackish flecks as you stir, so I do not recommend it).

4. Now add the cheese and keep stirring until your efforts result in a smooth cheese sauce.

5. Pour into a bowl, large ramekin, or containing vessel of your choice. The rarebit sauce will cool into a solid mass, looking just like a cheese spread, which is precisely what it is. The sauce will keep covered in your refrigerator for several days, which is precisely the idea-- it's ready for you at a moment's notice.

6. When the moment has notified you sufficiently, slice your crusty bread to its desired thickness, place on a sheet pan and put it under a broiler. If you place the bread slices under your broiler and you notice that no change has occurred to them in several minutes, make sure your broiler's heating element is turned on-- listen to the voice of experience. Toast the slices well on one side, remove the pan from the oven and turn the bread over, replacing them under the broiler and toasting them less thoroughly than you have the previous side-- this will be the upside to your rarebit.

7. Spread a little of the now-solidified cheese onto your toast. This will adhere your apple slices to the bread. Arrange apple slices over the cheese.

8. At this point, I like to warm up a bit of the sauce in my microwave on low, to make it softer, therefore easier, to spread over the apple slices. Cover the apples generously with the cheese. Place the hopefully well-constructed toasts under the broiler. Do not remove them until the cheese bubbles and browns. If you have a conventional, broiler-on-the-bottom oven and your kitchen floor is clean enough, I might suggest lying down on the floor with one hand propping up your head and the other clad in an oven mitt, leaving the door of the broiler open a bit in order to get a good view of the action. If you are prosperous enough to have two oven mitts, I would suggest wearing the second one on the hand that supports your head for added comfort.

9. Remove the toasts from the oven when they have reached the desired doneness, transfer to a serving plate and sprinkle with the scallions. If you eat them immediately, the cheese will very likely burn the roof of your mouth. The time it takes to walk to you refrigerator, grab a beer and pop it open is sufficient cooling time.