Week one was a blur. It felt like every other week long course I have taken over the past few years to develop various creative pursuits. Adjusting to the premise, the instructor, the scheduling, trying to learn as much as possible and record new information to look back on when I inevitably forget everything I have learned in the weeks and months that follow. Week two, and boy are things starting to sink in. In the best way! I wake up in the morning and pinch myself that this is my reality right now. That I get to dive into the incredible pool of knowledge and talent contained within the walls of Le Cordon Bleu London every day for the best part of this year. It’s really mind blowing to me still, having never before dedicated more than the odd week in a summer time to my artistic hobbies. As dreamlike as this all feels to me still, I have already had my share of kitchen nightmares in two short weeks! This place is no joke. Looking at the shiny prospectus and seeing the pristine students swanning around in their snowy white, crested uniforms doesn’t afford any insight into the seriousness of this course. Every chef expects 100 percent focus, and 100 percent effort, 100 percent of the time. No exceptions and definitely no excuses. We are expected to be at lectures and classes 15 minutes before it commences. The chefs explain that this is necessary to allow the mental space to prepare for the intensity of the session. They explained that if we arrive still panting from the 4 flights of stairs realising upon seeing our peers that we have forgotten some equipment and then head back down to get it, we will find ourselves 5 minutes late for the session, having missed the briefing and all stressed and off kilter for the rest of the day. At first I thought it was a bit over the top to have us physically waiting for 15 whole minutes outside the room! But after two weeks here I can see the salience of this mantra. One morning I arrived bang on 8:01 for an 8:00 lecture and the chef barked at me that I was late and sent me to the back of the room as punishment. It was at that point I realised I had no pen. I couldn’t take notes on my phone as the chef had already made an example of someone who had tried to do the same. I had to disturb my neighbours in a desperate effort to procure a writing implement, which is a massive no no at LCB. Anyone chatting in class or detracting from the learning of others is removed immediately from the scene by the chefs. I managed to find a pen after 5 minutes of psssst’ing unknown peers, but had already missed half of the method of the first recipe. As my brain worked to try and piece together what I missed by looking at the debris and equipment, forensically analysing the shapes of vegetable peelings on the chefs bench and straining to see my neighbours notes, I realised I had missed the second half of the recipe as well. Of course this was the day I was assigned to be team leader so I essentially was going to be instructing my group on set up, timings, and logistics of a dish to which I did not know the method in approximately 2 hours time. Yeh. I had to spend the break in the lecture scribbling and asking favours from peers instead of eating and drinking and chatting to feel refreshed and energised to focus on part two. Part two of the lecture suffered. I was tired from the scramble of part one and was hungry and thirsty with a headache! The practical was straight after so no time to re calibrate or recharge before hand. I didn’t check the photos of the chef’s demo dish as I went in, thinking that at this point it was the least of my worries. I ended up plating it wrong by mixing up the garnishes for two salads. That day was a car crash from start to finish. It was a chain reaction that lasted all the way through until the evening when only a double g and t with sympathetic classmates finally stopped it in its tracks. Only they would understand the trauma caused by putting your sliced radish and parsley chiffonade on your endive not your radicchio. A pretty serious missdemeanor by all accounts. So I was 1 minute late. Just 1 minute. And those were the consequences. Let the record show that I concede a point to Chef on the subject of punctuality.

So what have I learned to make so far? It suffices to say I have learned as many life lessons as food lessons at this point but I will give you a respite from my musings on discipline and show you some food. Aren’t I good to you!

A very handsome celeriac remoulade from Chef’s demonstration. It’s classcially described as a sauce, quite similar in flavour terms to a tartar sauce, but in reality seems much more like a kind of posh coleslaw?

Chef’s avocado and prawn salad with sliced black olives

Chef’s demo of sugar cages

Chef’s demo Creme Caramel ! It was a stunner. When we did it in practical around half the group could not achieve the set consistency. Chef felt that it was due to many of the ovens underperforming and so did not grade us on the cooking of the custa… — Chef’s demo Creme Caramel ! It was a stunner. When we did it in practical around half the group could not achieve the set consistency. Chef felt that it was due to many of the ovens underperforming and so did not grade us on the cooking of the custard and allowed us to use those successful ones from the group to plate. I got water from my Bain Marie inside my custard when I was performing the wobble test! Even if the ovens had been hot enough mine still would not have set! I suppose it was lucky for me that my error didn’t affect my grade on this occasion. It was a rookie error though and goes to show how one moment of carelessness can ruin hours of work. I plated so carefully as that was the majority of our marking due the the oven situation. When I presented to chef he told me the plate was dirty and although my piping and decoration was as it should be the dirty plate ruins it as the customer would send it back. C’est la vie.

This one is chef’s demo

This one is mine

We also did Creme Brûlée, and the above is chef’s demo plate

This one is my attempt. Chef was very pleased with my even caramelisation and neat piping on the tuille and chocolate pattern. He wanted to see the black edges of the caramel burned by the blow torch removed with a toothpick however, or using more sugar around the edges to prevent the naked custard being exposed to the flame.

Chef’s veal stock. I got good feedback on mine and chef was impressed with the clarity. The key is just keep skimming, just keep skimming!

Chef’s demo chicken stock. Chef liked the flavour of mine and the fact I had removed a lot of oil. The clarity could have been better however as I used the wrong chinois when straining it and the mesh was not fine enough to catch the bit of debris. I also could have done a better job removing the ‘cloud’ which is the initial expulsion of skum when the stock first comes to the boil.

My mushroom veloute. I don’t love mushrooms so it wasn’t really my cup of veloute so to speak. Chef also wasn’t keen on it as it was too runny meaning the liaison of egg and cream and a blonde roux had not sufficed to thicken the soup. My leek and potato soup was delicious however! I will definitely be making that again!

Leak and potato soup by Chef !

Chef’s Creme Brûlée demo getting demo’d by hungry students!