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(courtesy
of Rockland
Magazine)
Excerpted from the article by DEBORAH WILBURN &
TED MANN
(first
published November 10, 2006)
We searched far and wide for schools that would bring
our culinary skills up to speed. Here, the tasty results.
For those of us who are
responsible for getting some semblance of dinner on the
table, there often comes a point where we can’t bear to
buy one more rotisserie chicken from our favorite local
market, we’re tired of spending hundreds of dollars a
year on takeout pizza, and yet we realize deep down that
popcorn with scrambled eggs does not a dinner make. Surely
there must be a better way. Then, that lightbulb-above-the-head
moment: What if we cooked dinner ourselves? Better still,
what if we signed up for classes and learned to make something
fresh and new that is good, healthy—even edible? That
is the course we set out for ourselves. And yet, as we
searched the county for cooking schools, we found that
there weren’t that many options, leading us to conclude
that perhaps people in Rockland already know how to cook,
or perhaps they’ve just made peace with their rotisserie
chicken. Nonetheless, we did locate a few solid options,
including one in the city (great for after-work forays
into the culinary arts) and one at a renowned cooking
school an hour or so north. If you feel ready to whip
up something new, it may be time for you, too, to wade
into these palate-pleasing waters. Your stomach (and your
family’s) will be glad you did!
Food & Style, Piermont
THE CLASS: The Provençal Table
THE CHEF: Viviane Bauquet Farre
TYPE OF CLASS: Hands-on
TIME/COST: Four hours; $95
CLASS SIZE: Six to eight
LEARNING EXPERIENCE: My first lesson came early
on—at the pre-registration stage, in fact. When I e-mailed
Viviane Bauquet Farre to register for her class, she asked
about my favorite French foods. I said I loved sauces,
like béarnaise, and meats, like sweetbreads and duck.
She commended my enthusiasm, but said that we wouldn’t
be focusing on those foods. “Provence is the land of garlic,
olives, goat cheeses, tapenade, ratatouille, and soup
an pistou,” she said, adding, “My specialty is seasonal
vegetables.” To put it another way, I’d just proposed
cooking thymus glands to a vegetarian!
Despite the awkward introduction, Farre—who was born
on the French colony island of New Caledonia—couldn’t
have been more gracious when I arrived at her Piermont
home. At the start of class (made up of five female regulars
and two newbie guys, including me), she explained how
she’d just returned from the south of France and adapted
the region’s recipes with local Rockland ingredients.
Then she outlined our cooking strategy: We would start
with the plum dessert, then roast pears for the salad,
skip over to the Swiss chard gratin entrée, eat the cheese
course, then begin plating.
We began at the food processor, blending 12 ounces of
green olives along with capers, garlic, almonds, lemon
zest, and olive oil to create a tapenade that would sustain
us until dinner. Then we split into two teams, working
at separate stoves. My two teammates and I halved plums
and prepared them for baking (see recipe), then repeated
the process with pears (using a pear brandy instead of
a sugar-and-cognac coating). Next we rolled Swiss chard
into a cylinder; sliced it; sautéed it with red pepper,
olive oil, and garlic; and finally baked it with béchamel
sauce and a Gruyère cheese topping. Farre was by turns
a taskmaster (scolding me for depositing a hot pan under
a cold-running faucet—“it can crack”) and a cheerleader
(after I minced my garlic, she held it up as an example
to my classmates), and she was always eager to demonstrate
the proper form for chopping (handle-side of the blade,
rocking with only the most minute movement). We took a
brief pit stop—to try more tapenade and a selection of
cheeses made from sheep and goat milk—before returning
to our stations to sauté baby potatoes and cherry tomatoes,
then plate our roasted-pear-and-frisée salad. Finally,
it was time to eat!
FUN FACTOR: As we sat down at the dining table,
giggling over a brief grease fire I’d accidentally ignited,
I checked my watch for the first time. It had taken four
hours to reach this point. But as we ate our food and
savored the accompanying wines, I realized that in Provence
both the vegetables and the dining experience are best
when cooked slowly; in France, there’s no such thing as
a 30-minute meal.
DETAILS: $85–$125 per class; 365-1599; www.foodandstyle.com.
—T.M.
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