Food in Provence (and elsewhere)

Our second (and last full) chocolate week sees us making yet another moulded chocolate, but this time using a larger mould which needs coating in tempered chocolate twice for the casing to be strong enough to hold the filling. And each time the mould needs to be cleaned well or extracting the chocolates from the mould will be difficult. It’s my turn for the tempering which takes longer than it should as someone (me!) didn’t spread our leftover chocolate thinly enough yesterday so there are some big pieces that take a while to melt. But I get there in the end and E. and I soon each have two double-coated moulds on the bench.

The filling is marshmallow, but, unlike the version we made on Tuesday, one made with whisked egg whites—like an Italian meringue—so it can be piped into our chocolate shells on top of some piped caramel (a final use of the caramel à pocher we made on Monday) and toasted almonds. And afterwards into multiple marshmallow whirls which, like the marshmallows yesterday, we coat with a mix of icing sugar and cornstarch.

E. then tempers the chocolate so we can close the moulds. And we have enough chocolate left to make three 100g bars; after all, it’s the end of chocolate week! After our shells have been left to set a while, E. offers to de-mould mine but I demur; had there been any problem I’m sure she would have been more upset than me. But I needn’t have worried: they both came out with no persuasion needed.

We really have made a fair bit; here’s chef’s production. He works morning and afternoon, so we’ve just made half of this (but he’s not shown all of his marshmallow!). I’ve given a fair bit away but there’ll be enough for J. next time she visits.

On to cooking where, as it’s the end of the month, we have a test. Unlike pastry, Chef skips a written test (to general relief!) but does set us a practical challenge. We have a choice between duck breast and pork fillet and must produce a plate that includes a crispy and an acid element using the range of produce he has left. I was going to pick the duck breast (I like to eat it after all…) but everyone is going that way so I pick the pork instead. There is some broccolini on offer so I take a few stems along with some broccoli to make a purée plus some baby yellow and purple carrots and a few mushrooms. It seems enough and I hope inspiration will strike for the crispy element.

Meanwhile, my partner is slicing potatoes with a mandolin having already made a cauliflower purée! His first move on entering the kitchen/classroom was to put the induction hob on the bench and start boiling a pan of water. Exactly as instructed by Edouard de Pomiane, although I doubt he has ever heard of him. I trim the fillet, cut off a section to caramelise and flavour a sauce (I should really have trimmed the fillet into a nice cylinder, though; see later) and brown the meat I’m planning to serve for good measure. Probably prompted by the fact my station is near the deep fat fryers, I settle on tempura mushrooms as the crispy element so decide to fry thin slices of the pork and make a sauce flavoured with balsamic vinegar and soy sauce; a sort of Italo-Japanese fusion dish. I oven bake the baby carrots as this reduces competition for the single induction hob. R. and I coordinate well, though, and I’m happy to watch him whilst he plates as I have plenty of time before chef’s deadline. But I also use the time to think about garnish and decide to deep fry some coriander leaves.

I’m behind F. in the queue for chef’s assessment. He’s the person who made frying-pan tuiles so proficiently last week and has produced another. Chef considers there is too much on his plate, though, so I know what is coming. Sure enough, my plate is considered as gastronomic (which I take as a step up from bistro), rather than Michelin standard. In particular, he’s not impressed with the neatness of the pork slices… He is, though, impressed with the cooking of all the elements, especially the flavour of the sauce and the broccoli purée. He says I should have had three quenelles of this and one broccolini stem; I take that as a tacit approval of the quenelle after yesterday’s lesson!

Home for a nap rather than a goûter and I decide not to visit Vinocap, the local wine fair. I need to be up early tomorrow for a day-long molecular gastronomy workshop.