The Land of Confusion

"Culinary school has ruined you," said The Man. "Before, you would have just been disappointed. Now, you try to fix it, and you won't rest until you work it out." (Or something along these lines.)

He's right, you know. I like to think I had a fairly sophisticated palate before culinary school, and going to school just enhanced it...as well as my entire outlook on the restaurant industry. I know I was hell to dine with during the Safety & Sanitation portion of the program, but I couldn't help it. (I've since relaxed my standards some, because I love to seek out the best local dives, but I'm still not eating at a Denny's with a health rating of 72!)

Anyway, what I'm trying to get around to is our Saturday night dining experience. We were out doing some holiday shopping, and decided to search for food. I mentioned that an old restaurant, the Oyster Cafe, which had been torn down about 2 years ago, had been reborn, and maybe we should check it out.

We were toodling along, on our merry way to the Oyster Cafe, when we passed a newish place called California Dreaming. I mentioned that I would like to try it sometime, and The Man suggested we do it now. I was up for that, figuring we could hit the oyster place sometime later.

A quick U-turn later, and we were pulling into the parking lot. We enter and are seated promptly. I begin looking at the menu, and something just didn't seem right. The longer I stared at the menu, the greater the feeling grew...I finally put my finger on it--there was absolutely nothing on the menu that excited me. Not one single thing stood out as actually appealing, and I think it had a lot to do with the name of the restaurant.

"California Dreaming" says (to me) things like "fresh," "Pacific-Asian influences," Guacamole made tableside," and the freaking Beach Boys...wait, that was The Mamas and The Papas, wasn't it? Anyway, "California Dreaming" does not say things to me like mediocre-sounding sandwiches, ordinary steak offerings, etc. Putting the words "Knob Hill" and "San Francisco" in front of an item's name does not California cuisine make.

The menu was boring. Flat out unimpressive and boring. The more I looked at it, the less I wanted to eat there. The Man was feeling the same way, but since we had already ordered drinks, we didn't feel like we could just up and leave. We compromised with an order of nachos, which were okay bar food nachos, which we ate while I revised the whole concept of California Dreaming.

When I took the Dining Room class, Mr. S., the instructor, spent a lot of time talking with us about menu design, themes, etc. We sat around with a bunch of menus from local restaurants and broke them down to their basic elements. One of the most important things we learned was to make sure that the name of your restaurant reflects the concept you are trying to get across...which brings me back to the whole idea of WHY this restaurant was poorly named, and WHY I think that contributed to my (lack of) dining experience.

As I stated earlier, "California Dreaming" says something to me, something that it obviously did not say to the people who created this restaurant. California says casual, breezy, and fun...not a dimly lit restaurant with faux European food and wine posters, a maze to get to your booth (it really was a maze, with ramps and everything!), and a giant palm tree in the middle of the room. Oh, wait...palm tree = California...now, I get it...NOT! The menu really could be the menu of Office Space's fictional Chotchkies or Flingers. Only without the flair...never can have too many pieces of flair, you know.

I kept trying to analyze why I was so offended by this place. And, it really did come down to the name. The name sold me a vision of the West Coast, and I really wanted some fish tacos, dammit! Baja this, buddy!

So, we ate our nachos, drank our drinks, and headed out the door and finished our evening at the Oyster Cafe...a place that serves fried oysters, raw oysters, baked oysters, along with some shrimp, and a few wings/chicken fingers to appease the folks who don't eat seafood. A prime example of what you see is what you get...or at least what the restaurant is named gives you a clue of what they are serving.

Although, the really funny thing about the new and improved Oyster Cafe is that it is way more upscalely decorated than the Xeroxed menu in the plastic holder would have you believe. Nice bar, decorative architechtural features, but the waitrons were in T-shirts and jeans. Go figure. But the oysters were most fine. We ordered a dozen raw and a dozen fried, and rolled on our merry way, sated at last.

By the way, the Thanksgiving Roast Who Beast turned out lovely...the Torte was a little dry, but the warm chocolate ganache made up for it. (The Man resorted to using it as a spread for the cake after it cooled in the fridge overnight...no wasting time heating it up in the microwave!). And, the big ass chef knife: 3; my left hand: 0. I swear, I have no business using knives at times. I managed to slice my index finger, through half my fingernail, which is looking lovely and gnawed upon now, while chopping parsley for the mushroom thing. Then, on Saturday, when I was slicing the rest of the Who Roast Beast for lunch, I managed to knick both my thumb AND my little finger at the same time. I resolved to only eat finger foods for the rest of the weekend, because I didn't want to risk my other hand...

Cooking = Fun? No way!

Way!

Wow—who knew culinary school could actually be fun? It is if you take one of the “Masters Series Cooking Workshops” at Fine Technical College, with all the excitement of learning without any of the pressure of a grade or cleaning up (most important!). Kind of a tastes great, less filling proposition.

FTC offers a series of workshops each quarter on a variety of topics/techniques. Last night’s class was on seafood cookery, and it was taught by my favorite chef, Chef Regional/Pantry.

There were 8 of us last night—a mixed group of folks—and I was the only geeky one with a knife kit. (Hey—I paid mucho dinero for those knives, and I’m damn well going to use them at every opportunity!) Chef paired us up into teams of two, and gave each team 1 menu item to prepare, plus pieces and parts of other menu items. Our complete menu consisted of the following:

* Red Snapper with julienned vegetables en papillotte

* Shellfish Stew of clams, shrimp, scallops, and grouper

* Steamed Mussels in white wine herb broth

* Sautéed Jumbo Lump Crab Cakes with Lemon Beurre Blanc sauce

* Barbecued Spice Rubbed Salmon (grilled on a cedar plank and just on the grill top)

It was sooooo weird to be in the kitchen in street clothes. I kept thinking I was going to get points off for wearing jeans! We had a couple of the culinary students there with us to help out and whisk away any dirty dishes; they were getting service points for helping out, too.

And, about halfway through the night, while my partner and I were building our red snapper packets, I realized that I was having great fun. That this was what I had really wanted out of culinary school to begin with…yeah, I know, it’s supposed to be preparing someone for an actual j-o-b in the culinary field, but come on—why can’t it be fun as well. After all, it’s cooking and not rocket science. (Although, I’m sure lots of folks think rocket science is fun…you know, those scary smart folks.)

There were a few safety and sanitation violations happening, but probably not anything more serious than you do in your own kitchen. Chef was diligent in stating the housekeeping duties of washing hands, cleaning cutting boards between ingredients, keeping product on ice, etc. I think the most egregious violation was the woman who showed up in sandals and shorts. (The workshop flyer specifically stated wearing long pants and closed toed shoes.) I figured if she lost a toe or got hot somethin’ somethin’ on her foot, she’d remember to wear better shoes next time.

We fired everything off pretty much on time, and for the most part, it all went as planned. The most surprising thing was a recipe of corn and tomato relish. That was kind of a bonus dish and garnish for the salmon, and Chef asked me to make it. I was all wriggly like a little puppy, when he picked little ol’ me, because I knew how to cut the corn off the cob and milk it…’cause I had real actual culinary skoolin’. (Hey, I have to do something to liven this up, because we had no drama like I was used to in the kitchen with Dimmer Switch and Mr. Big Stuff…not that I’m missing that or anything, but sometimes, the blog just wrote itself with their antics.)

The Corn and Tomato Relish is a great example of using the season’s best produce and a very simple method of preparing it. This was one of those on-the-fly kind of recipes, and we all agreed that we could have just eaten the pan of it and been just as happy as we were with the entire seafood feast.

Corn & Tomato Relish

* 3 ears of sweet corn, husks and silk removed
* 1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, rinsed and halved
* Unsalted Butter
* 1-2 Tbs fresh basil chiffonade (thinly sliced)
* 1-2 Tbs fresh Italian parsley, chopped
* Salt and Pepper to taste

Procedure:

1. Using a large, sharp chef’s knife, cut the corn kernels from the cob. (I do this flat on the cutting board and scoop them up into a bowl. If you have more dexterity with the knife, you could do it directly into a shallow bowl and save a step...and not find little kernels of corn everywhere.) After you cut the kernels off, use the edge of the knife to scrape up and down the cob, “milking” the rest of the corn liquid into the bowl.

2. Heat a sauté pan over medium-high heat. Melt a generous amount of butter in the pan, and dump in the corn. (You know how I feel about butter, so I really mean generous! Like a stick!) Sauté the corn for 7-8 minutes until it becomes tender, adding more butter if it gets too dry. Add a little salt and pepper to season.

3. After the corn is tender (taste it!), gently fold in the tomato halves. Continue cooking until the tomatoes are warmed through, but not broken down.

4. When the tomatoes are warmed, pull the pan off the heat and fold in the chopped fresh herbs.

5. Taste and season with a little more salt and pepper if necessary. Don’t go overboard on the salt, because you want the sweetness of the corn and the tomatoes to shine through.

6. Serve as a side dish or as an accompaniment to grilled fish.

We were all amazed at how good this simple dish was, and I’m really not bragging because I made it…honest.

The whole menu was fairly simple, because those are the kinds of preparations that seafood lends itself to…the best fresh ingredients you can find often need little “gussying” up. The other dish that I thought was pretty amazing and quick was the Shellfish Stew. It was essentially cioppino without the pasta…and it would have been fine with pasta as well. We had some lovely rustic bread that Chef had snagged at a local bakery, which we brushed with oil and grilled, to accompany it and soak up all the yummy liquid.

Shellfish Stew

* ¼ lb each littleneck clams, shrimp, scallops
* 4 oz white wine
* 2 cloves garlic, chopped
* 1 cup basic tomato sauce (or use an 8-oz can)
* ½ tsp red chili flakes
* 1 Tbsp olive oil
* ¼ c chopped Italian parsley
* Salt & pepper to taste

Procedure

1. Prep the seafood: rinse, peel, and devein shrimp, leaving the tails on; scrub clams to remove any exterior sand; discard any clams that are open and don’t close when you tap them.

2. Heat olive oil in a deep skillet with a cover. Add clams, chile, garlic, and wine. Cover and steam for 1 minute.

3. Remove lid, add tomato sauce, shrimp, and scallops. Simmer until shrimp and scallops are cooked through; about 3-4 minutes. (We also threw in some grouper pieces leftover
from service earlier in the day, and you could always add any white, firm fish.)

4. Remove from heat, season with salt and pepper, and finish with the chopped parsley.

How easy was that? I’m going to give it a whirl at home pretty soon.

Since this class was so much fun, I’m looking forward to what might be offered next session, which starts in October. There’s a sauce class that would be good to take…maybe I can avoid re-creating my classic “dirt sauce,” and one on a bread baking basics, which I’m also interested in as well.

I'll let you know how the seafood stew turns out.