Academics on adventures of an omnomnomnivore in NYC

What I Learned in Culinary School (and Why I’m Quitting)

Mon, 14 Apr 2014 23:34:50 -0400

After 22 classes and 110 hours in the kitchens, I am sad but proud to have finished the Culinary Techniques course at the International Culinary Center.

We began on day one by struggling to chop some onions and carrots, and trying to memorize the French names of all the new equipment. Some of us cut ourselves simply pulling knives out of our bags. Somehow that lesson took five hours to cover. We were green as the tray of herbs that was passed around for an identification lesson.

Culinary School: Why I’m making the worst food of my life

Tue, 04 Mar 2014 13:06:33 -0500

Nights in culinary class move in a dance of steel and time pressure. Yank out the wishbone. Quarter the chicken. Sear the skin. Chop the mirepoix. Simmer the stock. Strain the sauce. Pull the chicken from the oven. Plate the food. Run to the front. Hope for the best.

Chef Ray glanced at my plate of poulet sauté chasseur (hunter-style chicken) and gave me a hard look. “I think I’ve told you this before,” he said. “This plate. What’s wrong with it?” I looked down at my chicken. Among the finely shredded flakes, there were some unruly tufts of parsley perched on top, shamelessly advertising their prowess at escaping my knife. “I know, I know,” I apologized, “the parsley isn’t chopped small enough. And there’s some pieces of stems.”

“Hit It Like a Mal Boyfriend” and Other Lessons from Chef François Payard

Sun, 02 Mar 2014 18:32:23 -0500

François Payard is a top pastry chef, a long-standing innovator in New York’s dessert scene and winner of a James Beard award in 1995. Which is why it’s incredibly jarring when he’s looking at you from 10 feet away, asking what’s in egg whites. “Yes you, I’m looking at YOU in the second row,” he says. “Uh,” you stammer, “it can’t be lecithin because that’s in yolks…so albumin?”

Good Thing There’s Sauce: How to Butcher and Cook Whole Fish

Fri, 21 Feb 2014 16:45:40 -0500

Dear readers, I have a confession to make: while I work in the seafood industry and am an avid seafood lover, I have never filleted a fish. It’s not for a lack of opportunity per se. The thing is, I was raised in an Asian family where the policy on fish was, “If you can’t pick out the bones, then you don’t deserve to eat.” So we cleaved our fish into large steaks or steamed it whole, with a splash of soy sauce over a shower of ginger and scallion strips. It was simple and satisfying, no need to get fancy.

Eat Your Veggies…Because They’re Surprisingly Fun to Cook

Mon, 17 Feb 2014 12:21:48 -0500

After several introductory classes of stock and sauce making, we moved into making complete dishes. Namely, salads, vegetable dishes and soups. I tried not to yawn. “Vegetables are important!” insisted my chef-friend Wendy. “It’s difficult to do them well.” I tried to muster some excitement, but the thought of making 6 different types of vinaigrette was already making my whisking arm ache.

Tournage and Stocks: How to Channel OCD into Acceptable Culinary Pursuits

Fri, 31 Jan 2014 12:18:34 -0500

After last week’s lesson on taillage vegetable cuts, we reconvened for the quintessential skill of tournage, or turned vegetables. Essentially, you have to cut pieces of vegetables into blunt footballs. “For tonight, don’t worry too much about the number of sides,” said Chef Ray, “but traditionally there are seven sides to each turned vegetable. And remember, you have to use your wrists to curve around the vegetable.” He demonstrated and in just a few deft moves, he held up a perfectly shaped cocotte out of a shower of carrot trimmings.

Lesson 1: Who Knew Cutting Vegetables Could Be So Complicated?

Sun, 26 Jan 2014 18:11:35 -0500

In the locker room, we carefully unpacked the contents of our tote bags. Crisp white jackets with cloth knot buttons, wide-legged houndstooth pants and a cap to keep stray hairs in place. I carefully slipped the knots on the jacket in and out of the loops; it was a long, laborious process. “Wait a minute,” said the girl down the aisle, “The jackets are big enough that you can put them on without untying the buttons!” At the bottom of my bag, a neatly folded triangle of white cloth remained. “Is this a side towel? Or a napkin?” I asked. “Actually, I think it’s the neckerchief,” another student replied. “But I have no idea how to tie it on.”

So You Think You Can Cook: Signing Up for Culinary School

Tue, 21 Jan 2014 11:11:16 -0500

A Spooky Eyeball Caprese

For a year while attending the University of Gastronomic Sciences, I was constantly asked, “How’s culinary school? Are you going to be a chef?” I would patiently explain that no, that’s not really what gastronomy is about.

Don’t get me wrong, I spent A LOT of time cooking during that year, with some of the freshest, most affordable produce I’ve ever seen in my life. Our class potlucks were lavish, internationally diverse and subtly competitive; everyone worked hard to bring their A-game to the table. Since coming to New York (land of take-out and tiny kitchens), I have yet to be surrounded by cooks in the same intensity and density.

A Brutally Honest Review of the University of Gastronomic Sciences

Mon, 16 May 2011 12:05:03 -0400

PLEASE READ: My original assessment of the UNISG masters program in 2011 is below, but I am thrilled to hear from current students/staff that UNISG has made significant progress in the years since I was a student there!

Sept. 2017: Michele Fino, a professor of law at UNISG, reached out to me to send an update on the UNISG masters program. It has been appended below.

What the Hell is Gastronomy, Anyway?

Fri, 13 May 2011 12:24:32 -0400

May 2010

It’s the million-dollar question that everyone in my program has faced, yet no one seems to have a definitive answer. I have certainly given my 30-second elevator rendition of what gastronomy is (“Well er, it’s not cooking school, it’s sort of about the analysis of food’s role in the world…”), but I still have niggling doubts over whether I am simply talking out of my ass. Which is why I was secretly relieved when we had a seminar on gastronomy and its meaning.

The Slow Evolution of Fast Money

Sun, 08 May 2011 14:01:34 -0400

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Shamefully, it has been a month since I last posted, but at least the thesis brouhaha is over. I spent much of this weekend preparing slides for the presentation next week, and graduation for our class of gastronomes is set for Friday the 13th. Apparently, 13 is not an inauspicious number in Italian culture, however 17 is.

If you are interested in seeing the slides and some dizzying spatial effects, you can check out the presentation in Prezi.

Thesis, or Reasons to Stay Late at the Office on Friday Night

Fri, 08 Apr 2011 18:25:28 -0400

Lately, all my writing energy has been devoted to working on this damn thesis, due on May 6th. I just want to get the thing written and turned in, so that I can move on with other projects.

Already, I’ve had to trim lots of interesting material that isn’t entirely relevant out of fear that this will turn into a book. Only a select few of you will find this topic totally absorbing, but I’ll post a tentative abstract here to ward off the inevitable questions.

Why I’m Never Going to Make It as a Writer

Fri, 04 Mar 2011 06:15:30 -0500

Corby Kummer, august senior editor for the Atlantic and one of my all-time idols, thinks my writing is shit.

Fine, he didn’t say it exactly like that.

Kummer was teaching a weeklong writing workshop, and everyone had submitted second drafts of essays on food. One by one, he whisked us into the hallway for individual conferences, then periodically returned to give comments to the entire group. All day, I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Why wasn’t my piece being read out loud to the class? Why was it at the bottom of the pile?

Stuart Franklin’s Political Ecology

Wed, 23 Feb 2011 20:23:05 -0500

Photography: Stuart Franklin

The entry on our school calendar was unassuming and inconspicuous—”Franklin, Journalism.” The description in our student guidebook was even more humble, simply a thin line that read “Stuart Franklin, English photographer.” I glanced at it and the night before, on a lark, I decided to google the name to see Franklin’s previous work. Much to my shock, I soon realized that Franklin was a world-renowned Magnum photographer, the man who had taken the photo of Tank Man in Tiananmen Square. Yes, That photo.

Italian for People Who Can’t Legge Bene

Wed, 08 Dec 2010 12:57:13 -0500

In the months between my acceptance and moving to Italy, I spent a good chunk of time learning Italian through as many venues as possible. I went through three levels of Rosetta Stone. I read Italian blogs and newspapers. I discovered some great Italian films (and some pretty terrible melodramatic, sad-violin ones). Then, I stepped onto my first train in Italy, promptly missed the transfer and ended up in Cuneo. It was about 8 pm on a Mon night, and the trains stop running shortly thereafter. Panicked, I tried to ask the guy across the aisle for help, but all the Italian I’d learned had flown out the window. Luckily, he knew enough English to tell me I had 5 minutes left to catch the last train of the night. Clearly, my Italian still had a ways to go.

An Introduction to Wine Journalism

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 22:39:41 -0500

Wine journalism. Is it a public service, or simply pretentious nonsense? What forms does it come in? Does anyone pay attention to this stuff anyway? Who is the target audience?

On this gray November day, we were greeted by the warm presence of Richard Baudains, a wine writer for Decanter who has also contributed to the Arcigolo Gambero Rosso guides Vini d’Italia (Wines of Italy) and Vini del Mondo (Wines of the World). He hails from the Channel Islands (an archipelago between England and France), but has spent the last two decades living and drinking in Italy.

The Terra Madre Formula: Farmer = Revolutionary

Tue, 26 Oct 2010 08:40:38 -0400

Delegate from the Philippines demonstrates her prowess at balancing objects on her head; Japanese beekeepers gather at the Honey Bar

At the registration for Terra Madre, small pins were passed out depicting the silhouettes of a farmer and a soldier, with an equals sign between them. In many ways, this icon summarizes what Terra Madre is about. It is a gathering of food communities and food producers, and a strategy session on how best to battle the onslaught of industrialized food, environmental degradation and social injustice. (Update: I’ve learned that the pins are from Slow Food Nation, and actually depict farmer = Statue of Liberty. Apparently I glanced at it too quickly.)

Terra Madre and Salone del Gusto

Wed, 20 Oct 2010 08:43:23 -0400

Tomorrow marks the opening of one of the sustainable food world’s most prestigious events, Terra Madre (or “mother earth”). This is a biennial conference sponsored by Slow Food since 2004, a meeting of farmers, chefs, producers, researchers, students, and other people who want to revolutionize the way we feed ourselves. Over the next five days, 8.000 people from 150 nations will gather in my backyard (Turin) to share ideas, make new friends and revel in the solidarity that we may be few but strong.

Food in Pop Culture Through the Lens of Marshmallow Peeps

Thu, 15 Jul 2010 20:40:43 -0400

“You might be too distracted to notice the first time through, but there is actually a lot of food imagery used in the Telephone music video.” And so, for the first time, I scrutinized a Lady Gaga video not for the outrageously skimpy outfits, but for the usage of food items. At the end of the ten minutes, our class was taken aback at the number of product placements in the film short. “It’s just a big ad for Virgin, Honey Buns and Polaroid, isn’t it?” The video makes frequent use of ersatz, convenience products like WonderBread and Miracle Whip. “Lady Gaga is well aware of her status as a highly commercial icon, and makes no pretense of acting otherwise. In a sense, she has tricked you into watching a 10-minute long ad masquerading as music video, one that you will now send to all your friends.” And what’s with the Diet Coke can hair rollers? In modern society, the panopticon of body image compels women to diet and lose weight, even without explicit pressure. She is trapped by both an interior and exterior prison.

Food Anthropology: Chitalian Cuisine

Tue, 29 Jun 2010 09:38:18 -0400

Last week, as part of a class on food anthropology, we all had to conduct an ethnographic study of a food production place in town using participant-observation methods (read: hanging out and discreetly taking notes). Rather than choosing one of the town’s many pizzerias or gelato shops, I decided to investigate the one place that has elicited a sort of morbid fascination for me for the last month: The Chinese restaurant in Bra. That’s right, there’s only one, and there isn’t too much other ethnic food in town to speak of, aside from a couple small kebab shops.

Gastronomy School is Serious Business

Sat, 29 May 2010 09:48:51 -0400

The view out the window from Aula 2, where we spend 6 hours a day in class

Classes at UNISG are held from 9 am to 4 pm, with an hour long lunch break at noon. Without too much self-incrimination, I will simply say that it has been a long time since I have had to focus so intensely, without the distraction of of the internets, on one subject for that length of time. This will require some adjustment.

First Day of School!

Wed, 26 May 2010 23:53:42 -0400

In an effort to uphold my reputation as a crazy cyclist, the first thing I did upon arriving in Bra was to beeline to a second-hand bike shop and pick up a used bike. I am now the proud owner of an old school Atala, decked out with fenders, a bell and a basket. Fast she is not, but for 60 quid I could probably do worse.

The University of Gastronomic Sciences campus is about 6 km away from Bra, which is about the length of my old commute to the Fed. However, biking to class is considerably more difficult/hair-raising than going to the Fed because the route involves riding down a two-lane highway with a very, very steep, winding hill. Unless you are comfortable with biking downhill with lorries whizzing past you on a road with no shoulder, I don’t really recommend biking. As I flew down the hill this morning, I was traveling so quickly that my eyes were watering. To be fair, vehicles are courteous and do try to move to give you enough space, but there’s really not much room for error. Going back is even more hilarious because you now have to tackle going up the hill. Despite my best efforts, the bike slowly ground to a halt about halfway up the hill and I settled with walking the rest of the way up the hill. Perhaps I should have bought a bike with more than one speed.