It's quite hard work, this teaching people to cook business. At the end of our second session this afternoon, my shoulders were aching and my head was a bit dulled from the concentration. It's much more intensive covering a whole host of things over a four hour period, explaining and cooking as you go along, than casually doing a bit of cooking for enjoyment.
So much so that I have had an early supper and couldn't really face cooking myself anything and have already put myself to bed - we have an all day session tomorrow.
We covered a lot of ground today. Second stage of a sourdough loaf (from starter to sponge), chicken liver pate, asparagus and bearnaise sauce (and principles behind hollandaise and mayonnaise too), sautéed artichoke hearts including how to peel and prepare the tricky little monsters, a classic lemon sponge cake (not very French but still essential cooking), creme caramel (and the principles behind all cooked cream desserts - creme brulée, crema catalana, panna cotta and zabaglioni), simple and easy crumble and fruit compote.
I don't want to think about how much butter, cream, eggs and sugar we have used today and I was cutting down on the proportions to avoid wastage. I shall be the size of a bus by the end of the week.
The creme caramel turned out delicious though.
Monday, 23 February 2009
Sunday, 22 February 2009
First session
That was a pretty full-on Sunday - from breakfasts for guests through kitchen cleaning and the first half day of the cooking class to dinner for four and the washing up that follows - but I think it went well - so am tired but happy.
I thought to myself that I couldn't give a cooking class without the kitchen being spotless to begin with. Although the place wasn't filthy, it did need a bit of a wash and brush up to bring it up to perfection - so that took care of my morning.
This afternoon we got on with the serious business of doing some cooking. The time seemed to fly by. It's difficult to know how much knowledge to assume, especially as this was my first class and my first pupil - things that I take for granted as being obvious are not always so to other people and so it turned out. It was great for me to know, from Gary's feedback, that I was showing him things that he didn't know or had never tried or that he was just unsure about.
I hope the rest of the week goes as well as today, but for now I need to sleep.
I thought to myself that I couldn't give a cooking class without the kitchen being spotless to begin with. Although the place wasn't filthy, it did need a bit of a wash and brush up to bring it up to perfection - so that took care of my morning.
This afternoon we got on with the serious business of doing some cooking. The time seemed to fly by. It's difficult to know how much knowledge to assume, especially as this was my first class and my first pupil - things that I take for granted as being obvious are not always so to other people and so it turned out. It was great for me to know, from Gary's feedback, that I was showing him things that he didn't know or had never tried or that he was just unsure about.
I hope the rest of the week goes as well as today, but for now I need to sleep.
Saturday, 21 February 2009
Come here
My cooking week guest is a Dutchman, who works for an Australian travel company based in the UK, and therefore, rather bizarrely, speaks English with an Australian accent rather than a Dutch one. Nonetheless, he seems like a nice guy and I think we are going to have a good week together.
We started last night with a few canapes - which I made - it would have been a bit much to ask him to make his own - and the starter for a sourdough loaf. Pleasingly for me, he has already said that it has inspired him to do more than just put out some crisps and nuts the next time he has friends over - which is great.
This morning I took him down to the market and we squeezed and prodded and sniffed and tasted our way around the stalls before enjoying a glass of wine and some lunch sat out in the midday sunshine - it was another beautiful Languedoc day and I feel as if I have caught a bit of sun on my face.
Spring is finally coming - the mimosa is out and the first daffodils have appeared in the market, along with broad beans, asparagus and strawberries (imported from North Africa - so not yet local produce) - but it means my menus will start to change which is good because I am just beginning to tire of the winter fare.
There has been a lot of activity on the website this week and even a few enquiries but it's still proving hard to persuade people to book - everyone seems to be looking for a deal of some sort. The problem is that it still costs the same as it did to run this business, if not more, so it's a catch-22 situation.
Maybe a bit of sunshine will cheer everyone up - let's face it, there is only so much continual bad news one can take - and then hopefully they will feel more confident about actually booking - I hope so.
We started last night with a few canapes - which I made - it would have been a bit much to ask him to make his own - and the starter for a sourdough loaf. Pleasingly for me, he has already said that it has inspired him to do more than just put out some crisps and nuts the next time he has friends over - which is great.
This morning I took him down to the market and we squeezed and prodded and sniffed and tasted our way around the stalls before enjoying a glass of wine and some lunch sat out in the midday sunshine - it was another beautiful Languedoc day and I feel as if I have caught a bit of sun on my face.
Spring is finally coming - the mimosa is out and the first daffodils have appeared in the market, along with broad beans, asparagus and strawberries (imported from North Africa - so not yet local produce) - but it means my menus will start to change which is good because I am just beginning to tire of the winter fare.
There has been a lot of activity on the website this week and even a few enquiries but it's still proving hard to persuade people to book - everyone seems to be looking for a deal of some sort. The problem is that it still costs the same as it did to run this business, if not more, so it's a catch-22 situation.
Maybe a bit of sunshine will cheer everyone up - let's face it, there is only so much continual bad news one can take - and then hopefully they will feel more confident about actually booking - I hope so.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Perfect Bearnaise
It wasn't as bad as it could have been down in the basement - and the plumbers were here first thing this morning to make sure that it wasn't going to get any worse - but it was still a bit messy.
My six hours of sleep seemed like six minutes and then I was up again re-laying the table for breakfast. It took me a while to realise that the buzzing sound wasn't in my head but was coming from the ground floor where the plumbers were drilling into the wall to re-route the problem pipes.
The guests hung about for a while nattering and, then, when I thought they had finished I made the mistake of being terribly British and polite and asking if all was OK and did they need anything else. "More corrfee", came the reply, and so they hung about for another twenty minutes.
I'm not complaining, not in the slightest. American clients may be some of the most demanding but if they feel that you have gone out of your way to look after them they are also the most generous. This evening they insisted on giving me more cash than was strictly necessary to cover the inconvenience of me having to turn five into seven the previous night. Naturally, I protested that it was too much and they insisted that it wasn't. I've decided that one can be too British, so I only protested the once before pocketing the loot and saying thank you very much.
Then, when I finally ventured downstairs I found more water than the night before. It's obvious that there is still more water somewhere in the hidden depths of the basement walls and that it will find it's way out over the coming days - this could be a little and often clear up process - what a bore.
Fortunately, there is no serious damage in my cellars, but who knows what lies behind the other locked doors and what problems have been caused - not my problem though and nothing I can do about it.
Instead, I am very much looking forward to the arrival tomorrow of a guest who is going to spend a week with me learning how to cook. In his honour, this evening, I cooked myself a bavette with a bearnaise sauce, just to practice the sauce.
It was perfect - here's hoping the rest of the week goes to plan.
My six hours of sleep seemed like six minutes and then I was up again re-laying the table for breakfast. It took me a while to realise that the buzzing sound wasn't in my head but was coming from the ground floor where the plumbers were drilling into the wall to re-route the problem pipes.
The guests hung about for a while nattering and, then, when I thought they had finished I made the mistake of being terribly British and polite and asking if all was OK and did they need anything else. "More corrfee", came the reply, and so they hung about for another twenty minutes.
I'm not complaining, not in the slightest. American clients may be some of the most demanding but if they feel that you have gone out of your way to look after them they are also the most generous. This evening they insisted on giving me more cash than was strictly necessary to cover the inconvenience of me having to turn five into seven the previous night. Naturally, I protested that it was too much and they insisted that it wasn't. I've decided that one can be too British, so I only protested the once before pocketing the loot and saying thank you very much.
Then, when I finally ventured downstairs I found more water than the night before. It's obvious that there is still more water somewhere in the hidden depths of the basement walls and that it will find it's way out over the coming days - this could be a little and often clear up process - what a bore.
Fortunately, there is no serious damage in my cellars, but who knows what lies behind the other locked doors and what problems have been caused - not my problem though and nothing I can do about it.
Instead, I am very much looking forward to the arrival tomorrow of a guest who is going to spend a week with me learning how to cook. In his honour, this evening, I cooked myself a bavette with a bearnaise sauce, just to practice the sauce.
It was perfect - here's hoping the rest of the week goes to plan.
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Surprise
My four American clients turned up mid-afternoon. There were three elderlys and one daughter-in-law, a replacement for the party leader's husband who slipped on ice in New York a month ago and is still convalescing his damaged ankle ligaments. There is still no escape from the consequences of the weather it seems - still, good news for the daughter-in-law who gets an unexpected trip to Europe.
As is the norm with our cousins from the New World, they immediately asked lots of questions, before they had even got themselves in the door. "How old is this place?, Where can I park the car?, How does the ticket machine work?, How did you manage to arrange to live here and keep your wife in London?" (that from the one male in the party - in a slow sardonic New York drawl) - followed by "Yous muss be some sorta genius, we gotta tork".
They are in fact all very charming - just very blunt in the way Americans are about everything. Indeed they have been extremely complimentary about the apartments and also about dinner this evening.
The original plan had been to send them out to a restaurant tonight and cook for them tomorrow, but at this time of year a lot of the restaurants are closed for a break and our standard fallback, L'Ecurie, is closed on a Wednesday - so I switched nights and cooked for them this evening.
It was another successful 42rvh dinner and all six of them went off happy and replete. Yes, six of them. At 7pm I was asked if dinner could be extended to two more people as two friends had turned up unexpectedly! It seems that two Italian friends, who knew that they were passing through Carcassonne, decided to drive over from Italy to surprise them.
How sweet, we all like a nice surprise - well, everyone except the chef, me, who had an hour to turn five into seven, when that hour was already planned out to the last second. It wasn't quite 'loaves and fishes' but there was a certain amount of scrabbling around behind the scenes and all was a lot more frantic that intended. The problem was that five 'confit de canard' and five 'fondant de chocolat' are not seven of either or anything. I'd never have coped with five thousand.
It didn't help that at the same time as I learned of the extra dinner guests, Brigitte, the bringer of bad news, rang the doorbell to ask if I had a boat because the basement was flooded. Ah, French humour translated into English - just not funny.
There has been an ongoing problem with a leak in the basement for a couple of months, which I first spotted before Christmas and had pointed out that it needed urgent attention because a water leak is not good news - it gets everywhere eventually and whilst it didn't seem serious to begin with it would only get worse if not dealt with.
It wasn't my water pipe and it wasn't hers, so there was a certain lack of urgency I guess - the owner of the pipe in question lives in Paris - so did they care? - well not really it seems.
Plumbers eventually arrived to dig up the floor and trace the leak and somehow they have made it ten times worse than it was before, so that now there is a pool of water throughout half the basement, including one of my cellars, fortunately just the one with all the old building material.
Nothing I could do about it this evening - I had a dinner crisis to sort out - but tomorrow's plans now include a bit of a salvage operation and clean up.
It all keeps me busy and definitely on my toes - otherwise my feet would get wet.
As is the norm with our cousins from the New World, they immediately asked lots of questions, before they had even got themselves in the door. "How old is this place?, Where can I park the car?, How does the ticket machine work?, How did you manage to arrange to live here and keep your wife in London?" (that from the one male in the party - in a slow sardonic New York drawl) - followed by "Yous muss be some sorta genius, we gotta tork".
They are in fact all very charming - just very blunt in the way Americans are about everything. Indeed they have been extremely complimentary about the apartments and also about dinner this evening.
The original plan had been to send them out to a restaurant tonight and cook for them tomorrow, but at this time of year a lot of the restaurants are closed for a break and our standard fallback, L'Ecurie, is closed on a Wednesday - so I switched nights and cooked for them this evening.
It was another successful 42rvh dinner and all six of them went off happy and replete. Yes, six of them. At 7pm I was asked if dinner could be extended to two more people as two friends had turned up unexpectedly! It seems that two Italian friends, who knew that they were passing through Carcassonne, decided to drive over from Italy to surprise them.
How sweet, we all like a nice surprise - well, everyone except the chef, me, who had an hour to turn five into seven, when that hour was already planned out to the last second. It wasn't quite 'loaves and fishes' but there was a certain amount of scrabbling around behind the scenes and all was a lot more frantic that intended. The problem was that five 'confit de canard' and five 'fondant de chocolat' are not seven of either or anything. I'd never have coped with five thousand.
It didn't help that at the same time as I learned of the extra dinner guests, Brigitte, the bringer of bad news, rang the doorbell to ask if I had a boat because the basement was flooded. Ah, French humour translated into English - just not funny.
There has been an ongoing problem with a leak in the basement for a couple of months, which I first spotted before Christmas and had pointed out that it needed urgent attention because a water leak is not good news - it gets everywhere eventually and whilst it didn't seem serious to begin with it would only get worse if not dealt with.
It wasn't my water pipe and it wasn't hers, so there was a certain lack of urgency I guess - the owner of the pipe in question lives in Paris - so did they care? - well not really it seems.
Plumbers eventually arrived to dig up the floor and trace the leak and somehow they have made it ten times worse than it was before, so that now there is a pool of water throughout half the basement, including one of my cellars, fortunately just the one with all the old building material.
Nothing I could do about it this evening - I had a dinner crisis to sort out - but tomorrow's plans now include a bit of a salvage operation and clean up.
It all keeps me busy and definitely on my toes - otherwise my feet would get wet.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Getting on
It was a Monday chores day today. I cleaned out both apartments and made them ready for Wednesday's new guests and ran two sets of laundry through the washing machine (oh goody - ironing tomorrow) and went to the supermarket to re-stock on cleaning and kitchen essentials.
There is nothing like the same amount of hard marketing going on here in the supermarkets as there is in the UK, where every aisle has, so called, massive discounts and two for one offers. There are special offers to be had but they are the same as they were last year and the year before - nothing appears to have changed - whereas in the UK all the stores are falling over themselves to try and keep you spending in a much more exaggerated way than I have ever seen before.
Things have changed though. It is now much more expensive to shop in France, even for basics, than it was four years ago when we first moved here. I notice it particularly in 'Les Halles' and in the weekly market - it's very easy these days to burn through €100 on meat, fruit and vegetables. So, sadly, the fancy olives and the 'fritons' and the expensive serrano ham are no longer everyday or even weekly purchases.
Part of the change is obviously due to the collapse of sterling against the euro but it can't all be explained by that. Petrol for example is now more expensive in France than the UK, when for years it was the other way round, even allowing for the exchange rate.
Makes you wonder if the French dream is dying for us Brits - the Sunday Times would certainly have you believe so with weekly articles about people selling up and moving back. I don't think so - just as the UK supermarket offers aren't all they claim to be, so the journalistic doom about the end of opportunity abroad is also overly dramaticised.
If you are ready for the change of pace and looking forward to a better quality of life then the dream is still there - if your income is the same and the cost of living is the same then the weather is definitely better.
It was a lovely day today again - cold but bright blue skies - I even had the roof down on the car as I went to the supermarket this afternoon.
Driving was no problem but walking has been a bit awkward this afternoon. I have done something to my right knee whilst on all fours this morning cleaning bathroom and kitchen floors - god, it hurts. I'm sure it will sort itself out but frankly, it's no fun getting older is it?
There is nothing like the same amount of hard marketing going on here in the supermarkets as there is in the UK, where every aisle has, so called, massive discounts and two for one offers. There are special offers to be had but they are the same as they were last year and the year before - nothing appears to have changed - whereas in the UK all the stores are falling over themselves to try and keep you spending in a much more exaggerated way than I have ever seen before.
Things have changed though. It is now much more expensive to shop in France, even for basics, than it was four years ago when we first moved here. I notice it particularly in 'Les Halles' and in the weekly market - it's very easy these days to burn through €100 on meat, fruit and vegetables. So, sadly, the fancy olives and the 'fritons' and the expensive serrano ham are no longer everyday or even weekly purchases.
Part of the change is obviously due to the collapse of sterling against the euro but it can't all be explained by that. Petrol for example is now more expensive in France than the UK, when for years it was the other way round, even allowing for the exchange rate.
Makes you wonder if the French dream is dying for us Brits - the Sunday Times would certainly have you believe so with weekly articles about people selling up and moving back. I don't think so - just as the UK supermarket offers aren't all they claim to be, so the journalistic doom about the end of opportunity abroad is also overly dramaticised.
If you are ready for the change of pace and looking forward to a better quality of life then the dream is still there - if your income is the same and the cost of living is the same then the weather is definitely better.
It was a lovely day today again - cold but bright blue skies - I even had the roof down on the car as I went to the supermarket this afternoon.
Driving was no problem but walking has been a bit awkward this afternoon. I have done something to my right knee whilst on all fours this morning cleaning bathroom and kitchen floors - god, it hurts. I'm sure it will sort itself out but frankly, it's no fun getting older is it?
Sunday, 15 February 2009
Too cold
Debrah's few stolen days here have flown by and this afternoon she headed back to London again, without either of us having a firm flight booking and therefore not knowing when we will see each other again - a very unsatisfactory state of affairs.
Both sets of weekend guests also departed today so I am back to being here on my own. It won't be for long though - I have a party of four Americans arriving for two nights in midweek, a couple coming next weekend for three days and someone coming to spend a week cooking with me, which is very exciting.
Debrah and I spent a good part of the last few days working out the schedule for him and what I am going to show him, which will include market shopping and wine tasting as well as cooking. I am really looking forward to it.
The market produce is just beginning to show signs of spring with some early asparagus, artichokes, strawberries and broad beans making an appearance yesterday. It is still a bit too early for local produce and most of this stuff appeared to have been shipped across from North Africa - still, it will give me more options for showing cooking techniques next week even if the produce isn't yet the best.
One thing that was lacking in the market yesterday was eggs. We only came across one stall who had any and they had come from the Aveyron, which in the highly departmentalised nature of France means they were foreign and imported. They were very good though.
One woman, presumably after seeing the egg cartons on top of my shopping bag, chased me past a couple of stalls to stop me and ask where I had managed to buy them as she couldn't find any. Is it just too cold for the poor hens or being French, have they gone on strike or are they all knackered after a year of laying and having a well earned holiday? It would be nice to think of them all sat on a deckchair somewhere hot recharging their batteries - except that our local hens are undoubtedly free range.
It is still very cold though and even though the sun has shone for the last couple of days, the snow is still lying on top of the Montagne Noire and the wind is bitter, all of which won't be doing anything good for my electricity bill as the radiators do their best to heat our four metre ceiling spaces.
Enough now, it's time for spring, surely.
Both sets of weekend guests also departed today so I am back to being here on my own. It won't be for long though - I have a party of four Americans arriving for two nights in midweek, a couple coming next weekend for three days and someone coming to spend a week cooking with me, which is very exciting.
Debrah and I spent a good part of the last few days working out the schedule for him and what I am going to show him, which will include market shopping and wine tasting as well as cooking. I am really looking forward to it.
The market produce is just beginning to show signs of spring with some early asparagus, artichokes, strawberries and broad beans making an appearance yesterday. It is still a bit too early for local produce and most of this stuff appeared to have been shipped across from North Africa - still, it will give me more options for showing cooking techniques next week even if the produce isn't yet the best.
One thing that was lacking in the market yesterday was eggs. We only came across one stall who had any and they had come from the Aveyron, which in the highly departmentalised nature of France means they were foreign and imported. They were very good though.
One woman, presumably after seeing the egg cartons on top of my shopping bag, chased me past a couple of stalls to stop me and ask where I had managed to buy them as she couldn't find any. Is it just too cold for the poor hens or being French, have they gone on strike or are they all knackered after a year of laying and having a well earned holiday? It would be nice to think of them all sat on a deckchair somewhere hot recharging their batteries - except that our local hens are undoubtedly free range.
It is still very cold though and even though the sun has shone for the last couple of days, the snow is still lying on top of the Montagne Noire and the wind is bitter, all of which won't be doing anything good for my electricity bill as the radiators do their best to heat our four metre ceiling spaces.
Enough now, it's time for spring, surely.
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