Charlotte Russe

What is a Charlotte Russe? And I'm not talking about the Forever21-ish tween clothing store. I've always thought Charlottes were those desserts where ladyfingers were crammed into a Charlotte mold with other stuff crammed in there too, later to be inverted onto a plate. Well I guess they are too, but molded Charlottes bear no resemblance to those I made in school. Apparently, the entremets we made in school are Charlotte Russes.

The day I actually had a conversation with CM

The other day I decided to stop by Plaza Athénée to say hello to my former coworkers. After landing in CDG at 6AM and taking a 4 hour nap, I took the metro down to the all-too-familiar Avenue Montaigne. With gifts in tow, I passed through security and made my way down into the pastry lab.

When I was thinking of things to bring back as gifts, I figured I'd bring back some See's Candies Toffee-ettes (though I'm not sure how to say that in French), and some macarons from Paulette Macarons, which un-coincidentally enough partnered with Christophe Michalak to open up a boutique in Beverly Hills and one in San Francisco. I figured it was a good way to score some points and maybe ask for some of the recipes in the lab.

CM came over and began dissecting all of the macarons, commenting on how they were a bit dry. I did explain that they had just endured a trans-Atlantic flight and how I'd just gotten off the plane that morning. After sampling the macarons (note, he did not try the toffee-ettes that everyone said were "super-bon"), he then asked if I was planning to do a stage at the hotel. Why am I not surprised. The sous-chef jumped in and explained that I had been a stagiaire with them for 6 months and recently went back to California to visit. Blasphemy. I think CM then felt a little bad or embarrassed, because he gave me a signed copy of his new book.

My French must be a bit rusty, as I heard the sous-chefs say, "Did you see the new book?" Apparently he meant, "Did you see your picture in the new book?" I flipped through to the end of the book and lo and behold there's a picture of me standing next to another employee and CM. It's not a flattering picture as I'm in my uniform and toque, but hey not many people can say they've got two autographed books by CM and a picture in one!

Last day of work

Though it's almost been a month since I finished work, I haven't shared all the events of my last day at Plaza Athénée. Perhaps I've been repressing the bad memories? Okay well it wasn't all that bad, but maybe I'm just jaded now.

During my six month stage, I witnessed quite a bit of hazing of other staigiares on their last day of work. One girl had raw eggs smashed on her head. The apprentice in the boulangerie had yeast (yes, fresh cake yeast), flour, butter, and egg wash poured all over her. Though my friends from Ferrandi gave me accounts of people being locked in a 'cage', crap dumped over them, and then being hosed down, I didn't really know what to expect.

Though I think I walked away pretty lucky; here's a note to any future stagiaires: do NOT tell them what day you're leaving. Of course this isn't completely avoidable since at least one person (whomever you report to) will know.

My last week started out with a cream puff to the face. Yes one of those lovely mignardises that I painstakingly piped, was smashed in my face by a chef de partie. He's probably the nicest guy I work with and in his words, worse things could/will happen. On my second day, of the last week, I was lucky enough to have chocolate batter (part of our marbled cake) smeared across my face. Well at least it tasted good and I tried to chase the offender down to give him a bisou. The third day we had made some fresh marshmallows and rolled them in sprinkles. They were quite gross and all but two made it into the trash. The other two gooey marshmallows? Smashed into my ears. It took me quite a while to clear my ears of that nasty mess.

On my last day, I tried to avoid any sort of confrontation. I knew that I had to be really careful and watch my back especially nearing the end of the day when we started cleaning. Post-cleaning, no one would try to attack me. While I was washing the sink, out of the corner of my eye I saw one of the chefs de partie (cdp) with a bucket of something. I didn't need to know what that something was, so I ran and got the brush to start scrubbing the floors and evade him. Well lucky for me, another apprentice knew that it was the cdp's birthday and decided to smear some roquefort cheese all over his face/glasses. Yours truly was hiding in the ice cream room. The cdp rounded on the apprentice with the bucket containing cherry juice and splashed him. Trying to protect myself, I was wise enough to also mention to the apprentice that it was another girls birthday that weekend. His present for her?  A bottle of egg yolks over her head.

Of course it was impossible for me to escape scathed-free; I ended up getting the rest of the cherry juice poured over my head and the bucket smashed on my head. As I bleached my chef whites, I couldn't help but think about how much I'm going to miss (and not miss at all) Plaza Athénée. It was definitely a good, character building, back-breaking experience.

Things from my last week of work

My last week of work, I decided to bring in my camera and start snapping up pictures of the glorious overpriced stuff/crap we make. I figured if anyone wanted to yell at me, I'd be out of there in a week anyways.

Every morning we assemble an array of small cakes, bigger cakes, chocolate mousse, and mignardises. If we're lucky there are only about 200 mignardises to make. On a bad day sometimes 1200.

Things I won't miss

With one week of work left, my stage at Plaza Athénée is winding down to a close. The new stagiaires from Ferrandi have started and are getting accustomed to things. Though I think the experience was definitely worthwhile, there are a handful of things I won't miss:

- Making 20+ kilos of dough, icecream, etc.
- Working 7:30 AM to 7:30PM.
- The douchebag apprentice who thinks he's everyone's boss.
- Caramelizing hazelnuts and the burns that come with it.
- Wet socks from the 'floods' when we clean.
- Someone taking a kitchen torch to my butt (no joke).
- Juicing 6 kilos of lemon juice.
- Gross flavored creams/chantilly like rose or violette.
- Dry, cracked and itchy skin due to D10 cleaning agent allergies.

Finger vs douille cannelee

So every day I make mignardises, which are bite-sized desserts, sometimes referred to as petits-fours. Our mignardises are choux pastries cut in half and topped off. We make two varieties of these pastries. Creamy ones topped with chocolate decor, and chantilly ones topped with a fruit puree gelee sphere. We make three flavors of each type: caramel, chocolate, vanilla, coconut, violette, and pistachio. Usually we make about 25 of each, totaling 150 choux to cut and fill. You keeping up? Today we had about 185 of each. Yes. That's well over 1100 little pieces of crap to assemble. And a lot of piping.

I'm generally in charge of piping all the chantilly cream for the mignardises, since I've been there the longest and probably make the best looking rosaces (or swirls of chantilly) in the least amount of time. What do we use to make them? Piping bag and a douille cannelee. Whats this fancy sounding thing you ask? Nothing more than a star pastry tip. Yeah I know it doesn't look very dangerous unless you jab it into someones eye.

Well today, in my mad harried state to finish all of the mignardises, I quickly used my finger to pierce the piping bag to pull out the douille. End result? A normal piece of pastry equipment quickly turned into a chinese finger trap. My poor index finger was jammed so far into the pastry tip that i couldn't pull it out without getting jabbed by the pointy teeth. I tried to get a new stagiaire to help me, but she had no idea what to do. The pastry tip was stuck, and hurt like a @#$%! when I pulled at it. A coworker tried to help by saying "okay you're going to scream".. thinking I'd let him rip it off my finger. I don't think he realized it had pierced my skin. Luckily enough for me, today I worked with the nicest chef-de-partie, and he got a knife to bend back the pastry tip teeth to release my finger. Not one of my smartest moves at work.

On a positive note, my finger is still intact, and tomorrow we only have about 500 mignardises to do.

Manifestation and the kid I wanted to kill

On my days off, I like to take the bus around town. It's a nice change from traveling underground all week long. However, today there was a 'manifestation' over by Bastille. What does that mean? To me it meant that all the buses going in that general direction were either canceled or detoured. A normally 30 minute metro ride, or 45 minute bus ride took over 45 minutes 2 buses, a metro ride, and a lot of walking. I did a Google search for what might be going on in the neighborhood, which was useless. I checked the twitter posts of one of my favorite food bloggers and it turns out there's some demonstration going on. A lot of angry people.

Speaking of angry (a perfect segue into my next blog topic), I usually don't get very angry at work. Exhausted, burned, and hungry. Sure. Angry? Not really. I usually don't talk too much about the people I work with either.  This is an exception. Last week marked the return of this 15 year old piece of sh*t stagiaire who came to work with us for a week, about a couple months ago. I'm not sure if he's young, or a bit slow, or just has no respect for anyone. It could be all three. Half the time if he wasn't messing up a recipe he had already attempted twice, he was ignoring his duties and wandering around the lab asking others what they were doing. Also, when cleaning time came around, he'd conveniently disappear or say that he needed to go home.

Good 'ole American Recipes

I think because I'm elbow deep in chantilly every week, filling choux pastries, or garnishing some mignardises, I generally jump at the chance to bake some treats that remind me of home.

Reine des gauffres

It's only fitting that since I'm going to Bruges that one of my tasks this week was to make waffles. I like waffles, but after making over a hundred of them while broiling over a super hot 'gauffrier', I'm not looking forward to eating them in Belgium.

The one thing I like about making waffles? Everybody loves you when you make waffles. No, I'm not kidding. Everyone in the lab walks by with roaming eyes hoping that there's a hot reject they can claim and dip in sugar. Some are even brazen enough to say "can you make one for me?" or "wheres mine?" Seriously people, I need to finish making these damn waffles.

Our sous-chef (last year's world pastry champion) even went as far to call me the "reine des gauffres" aka queen of waffles. Maybe because I was doling them out; yeah there were quite a few rejects. When I was done, I actually requested to clean out the walk in fridge.

Boozin' in the lab

Okay well not exactly.  No alcohol consumption is going on in the lab, lest I want to lose my job. A couple weeks ago I noticed one of the sous chef making a chocolate transfer of Buzz Lightyear. In France they call him Buzz L'eclair... and it's pronounced booze lee-claire. How curious I thought. A few days later I was asked to cut out over a dozen stupid gold cardboard things that vaguely looked like a plane or something with wings.

Moving on up

So I'm moving up in the world! No, I haven't been promoted to head slave stagiaire if that's what you're wondering. I'm no longer "fille" aka girl. CM has started referring to me as "miss". It beats fille any day.

Maybe he's realized that I'm American and miss is more suitable. Maybe it has come to his attention that I'm closer to his age then his own sous-chef. Maybe I'm just giving him too much credit. We'll see if this keeps up. Who knows tomorrow I might be back to being fille. Well in any case, it sure beats "hey guy", which I've had shouted in my direction.

Because I can't bring a camera...

...into the pastry lab, and the Internet is a very useful tool, I figured I'd share some of the things I work(ed) on. Of course credits go to the sites where I found them!

Stuff from ADPA:

Coupe de Fraise and some macarons in the background. I swear if I ever see another fraise du bois again....


Image from http://www.newyorksocialdiary.com

3 stars

So today is officially longest day known to man. And no, I'm not talking about solstices or whatnot, and no, no falling down stairs, but as I'm writing in the present tense, naturally I'm in the middle of my work day. Also, since I didn't get to bed past 1 AM last night, I apologize in advance if this post is riddled with spelling and gramatical mistakes.

Working gastro service is hard. Really hard. And what do you get when you work at ADPA? Thursdays and Fridays with two restaurant services. That means the patissiers and cuisiners start around 9AM and work well past midnight. That also means this lowly staigaire also has to work those hours. Oh how I miss the central patisserie. Leaving around 5:30/6 sounds like a dream! We do get a mini break during the day (hence how I'm able to write this post since 1) I don't have a smartphone and 2) it wouldn't be wise to be writing a post while in the lab). Needless to say, I hold all of you who work in gastronomical restaurants in high regard. When it comes to these hours, I'll have to relinquish my paper toque.

Yesterday the gastros celebrated retaining ADPA's three Michelin stars. Lucky me, I got to see Mr. AD himself, and sip on a flute of Dom Perignon. Though that lasted about five minutes before I had to run back into the pastry lab. Well, I need to survive through one more service and then its a three day weekend for me.

Oh and on a positive note I did make friends with the ADPA head pastry chef. I think we bonded over stories of falling down stairs as he insisted I take the elevator from now on and even offered to help me find a stage after this one is finished. But more on that later...

First service at ADPA

So I've always been curious why the French are so obsessed with spiral staircases. After asking someone, the reason is that they don't take up a lot of space, and real estate in Paris is quite pricey.

Well in my opinion, it's not wise to have anything of spiraling nature in a kitchen where there's grease and water. So, I guess you can imagine how I started my day working with the gastro patisserie chefs of ADPA. Yup. I fell down the stairs. Not once, people... twice. Yes, I'm just THAT challenged when it comes to walking down stairs properly.

Overall it was a long day; noon til midnight with just a 20 minute pause. I only got yelled at by the chef a couple times, but its worth it to see the things that are plated up. We made a couple wild strawberry desserts, a vacharin, baba, chocolate cake, a citrus tart, some other ice cream dessert, as well as a bunch of mignardises, chocolates, caramels, and marshmallows. Its a lot of work, but I'm glad (though sore) that I can see what goes on in the gastro kitchen. At least now I know why I never see the gastro patisserie chefs making anything - there's a separate small pastry lab located in the main gastro kitchen.

Hopefully today I'll get the hang of things, and at least not fall down the stairs again.

ADPA

Next week I start working with the ADPA pastry chefs. Yes folks, that's the Alain Ducasse à Plaza Athénée guys. Well, it's just going to be for a week since they're short-staffed and requested a stagiaire to help out.

My hours will be a little different; starting at noon instead of 7:30AM and finishing at who knows when! It will be interesting to see the plated desserts. Working in the lab until the early evening, we never get a glimpse at what the ADPA pastry chefs make. They always seem to be doing mise en place, preparing caramels, poached pears, and other elements of desserts to be finished later on.

So stay tuned! I've got an exciting, yet potentially disastrous week ahead of me!

Oh sheet...

So being an American, you'd think I'd jump at the chance to make some chocolate chip cookies at work right? Well, yeah if we actually used chocolate chips in the lab instead of having to pulverize Valhrona chocolate, and if I didn't have to make 12 kilos (~26.5 pounds) of it.. in one go. To make matters worse, these aren't Nestle Toll House cookies that plump up. They're cut out with a round cutter. Its blasphemy if you ask me.

Well anyways, today I had to use the Laminateur, aka pastry dough sheeter, to roll out my 12 kilos of dough. Well you know how they tell children to look both ways before crossing the street? Well kids, if you ever use a pastry dough sheeter, make sure to look on both sides of the belt before using it. I learned the hard way. One of the ADPA (Alain Ducasse a Plaza Athénée) pastry guys put a sheet of thin dentelle cookie things on it...and before I knew it.. crash.. splat.

After a slew of expletives from him, horror-stricken, I cleaned up the mess. He apologized too... since he should have known better than to put the sheet there! Oh well I'm tired... and don't really give a sheet full of dough.

Rest for the weary

I calculated that even though I only work four days a week, I actually work more hours than my friends at Pierre Herme, though considerably less than those who are at gastro restaurants. Still, I'm quite happy (aside from the throbbing feet and skin allergy).

Things I steal from work

Okay so it's a bit of an exaggeration saying that I steal things from work. More like I take the unwanted refuse and rejects of the day. Like my other staigiare friends have noticed, there are always rejects in the lab especially when you're producing high-quality goods. Though for me, I'm not picking through 2000 raspberries and eating 200 of them. Instead there are always cookies, cakes, madeleines, and financiers left behind. However, producing as much as we do, I'm rather sick of smelling, let alone eating, everything.

Pros and cons

So I've officially finished my first full week at Plaza Athénée, and its been rough. Luckily no catastrophes this week, but I'm still tired. I'm slowly getting used to the schedule, so I'm not as fatigued as last week...where I just wanted to curl up into a ball and die. It's a really good learning experience though and I'm humbled every day by how little French I know, but everyone is willing to speak slowly and help.

Every day I add to my mentally compiled list of pros and cons about being a stagiaire. I hope someone finds it a least mildly amusing...as this is my life for the next six months.

Pro: Working with a World Pastry Champion.
Con: Achy sore feet after standing for 11 hours a day.
Pro: Seeing the Eiffel tower every night on my way home.
Con: Not seeing the light of day for four days straight.
Pro: The sous chef is super super nice.
Con: The sous chef is only super nice if you haven't screwed up and he's not lecturing you.
Pro: The magical 'lingerie' where you swap dirty uniforms for clean ones.
Con: Cleaning the lab/kitchen three times a day.
Pro: Getting to taste/take home some leftovers from the day.
Con: Allergy to D10 cleaning product that is resulting in a rash.
Pro: Latex gloves for said allergy.
Con: Being too short to reach most things.
Pro: My best friend the stool.
Con: Spending at least half an hour in the walk-in fridge stocking and cleaning.
Pro: Doing everything from juicing 4 kilos of lemons to chocolate work to cake assembly.

And the list goes on and on. One thing I've discovered is that stagiaires generally don't stay very long. One girl just left yesterday after six weeks and two others, who started when I did, only have about a month left. So guess who gets to be the long-term kitchen slave? At least I'm paid, whereas they aren't, even if its a pittance and I could make more working at MacDo. On the upside, the longer I'm there, the more I get to learn...and hopefully there will be more staigiares to 'ranger' and 'nettoyer' the lab.

Mortification

mor⋅ti⋅fi⋅ca⋅tion - /ˌmɔrtəfɪˈkeɪʃən/ –noun:
A feeling of humiliation or shame, as through some injury to one's pride or self-respect.

So it happened. I did something really really wrong. Well okay, to be honest, I did a few things really really wrong. At least I lasted until the afternoon of my third day before screwing up. At least.

Our chef at Ferrandi was always telling us to never sit around and watch milk boil; there's always something else to do in the kitchen. Usually I pride myself on being able to multitask pretty well, but maybe the stress of a new environment and fatigue was catching up. So, I was asked to make a chocolate sauce for profiteroles. Pretty simple. Milk + glucose + chocolate. Voila. Well, taking chef's advice while my milk was boiling, I went to quickly do some dishes. A few seconds later another pastry cook runs in telling me to go get my milk, as it had boiled over. Ugh. I had to redo it.

My nerves already frazzled, I remeasured all the ingredients and put the milk to boil again. This time as I was prepping my chocolate, another stagiaire splashed some raspberry coulis on my hand... and I was temporarily distracted... and hear a different pastry cook yelling, "THE MILK!! THE MILK!!". NOT AGAIN. Thank god he lifted the pot as it barely boiled over. But it was too late. Our pastry chef looks at me and sternly says, "Thats the second time, Diana... the SECOND TIME."

Okay, so no screaming, but at this point I was feeling completely shitacular. To make matters even worse, someone left a huge hobart mixer bowl full of crap in the middle of the aisle next to a sink where it should NOT have been. Guess who ran smack right into it? Guess?!? I should have moved it... that was the thought that ran through my mind a split-second before the pile of crap teetered and crashed all over the floor. Not even a second later CM comes out of his office yelling in French "What is this f*cking catastrophe?!?!". Sadly, its name is Diana. Mortified, I stood frozen as my nice coworkers ran to my aid.

It could be worse I suppose. And as my friend and fellow Ferrandi alumni Joan says, "Its ok, cuz you know if you spill stuff now.. then later the chef will be like omg you improved! You are amazing. I'll remember u as the girl that spilled everything but came out a superstar!". Yeah... in my wildest dreams. Thanks for making me feel better though Joan! Well, on an upside, I have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off to nurse my wounds and rest my tired feet.