It was time to learn.

I googled the beeswax out of gluten-free baking. Starches, flours, gluten alternatives… I tried to learn everything I could. And when I got bored of reading, I took to the kitchen to learn by taste and technique. Several recipes and dozens of cookies later, I had the perfect, moist chocolate chip cookie. It was the first recipe I’d ever built entirely from scratch, and not only was it gluten-free, it was even vegan! I felt good.

Stack o' my first vegan, gluten-free chocolate chip cookies

I have always wanted to make a business out of my baking, and now I’m taking my first steps toward that goal. Renby’s Sugar Shoppe was born out of my love of baking and of sharing that love with my family and friends. I don’t want to have to leave anyone out because of a dietary restriction or food sensitivity. And since I know I can’t address every food-related issue in one go, I’m starting by going gluten-free with my recipes. I’m excited about exploring this new territory, and can’t wait to share all the lessons I learn and the treats I make along the way!

The production of foams in the pastry kitchen takes up at least an hour daily. As a diner, I’d had the only dessert that doesn’t have any foam on it; all the other desserts do. There are six different ones used on the current menu: lemongrass, argan oil, apricot seed, pear, chicory, and yuzu. All in all we use about 14 quarts of foam per dinner service. I wonder what a bathtub-ful of yuzu foam would feel like.

Except for the argan oil and apricot seed, all the foams are made pretty much the same way. Take some amount of water (x grams… say, 100) and infuse it with a flavor. Buzz it up in a blender and add .20x in sugar (i.e. 20g) to sweeten the liquid. Then add 1% (1g) versa whip and 0.5% (.5g) xanthan gum. Blend until thick, then whip it in a stand mixer until it quadruples in volume. Tada! Foam. They usually remain stable up until the end of the evening before collapsing overnight, only to be rewhipped (if there are any left over) the following day.

A lot of the classically trained externs are not feeling too happy all the different powders the restaurant uses. For some reason, I am unphased so far. I’m just learning about what all of our different chemicals do, but I will try to post about each one as I learn more.

My herb-picking duties were as follows: Take a package each of nepitella mint, micro lemongrass, and hyssop leaves, along with a bunch of lemon thyme. Pick 45 mint leaves, 15 blades of micro lemongrass, 60 hyssop leaves (or clusters of them, if small enough), and enough lemon thyme leaves to sparsely cover the bottoms of 3 pint containers. The leaves must be uniformly sized, a certain shade of green, and have absolutely no bruising or wilting. The lemon thyme leaves must be large enough to be handled by tweezers.

There is a window in the pastry kitchen that looks out into the savory kitchen, where another apprentice was undergoing a similar process with micro greens and micro celery. We were at it for almost an hour.

So after day 2, I have made foams, sauces, and various other components of the restaurant’s beautifully complex desserts. I can’t wait to see how they all get plated together.

At the restaurant, I am trying to break these habits. There is an upstairs and downstairs kitchen and things are stored everywhere; if you forget something after one trip, get ready for more exercise. Everything is measured out in separate containers and labeled with a piece of green tape (cut straight with scissors, not torn). Everything must be measured precisely. I was tasked with making the brioche dough-based crisps, and I asked the chef a silly question:

“Chef, the recipe calls for 125 grams of eggs and I am at 109 after two eggs. Should I add a third egg and go over the measurement, or stick with two eggs?”

“Neither, chef [Side note: Chef calls everyone else chef, which is pretty cool]. I do not tolerate either. It says 125 grams, and I want 125 grams. Let’s whisk up a third egg and measure out the remaining 16 grams.”

The various proteins and gums have to be measured precisely, as well. The restaurant has a scale that measures accurately to the hundredth of a gram, and it is so sensitive that it starts to wig out if you so much as breathe around it or use it near a vent. The powders fly around everywhere, and it takes some effort to get them to land directly into your measuring container. It took me 5 minutes to measure out a measly 1.25 grams of xanthan gum and was quite possibly the most frustrating moment of the day.

I am cooking in a far different league now.

For the next few weeks, I will be writing about my experiences in the restaurant and in New York. I am not going to name the restaurant but should you figure it out, here is my disclaimer: I do not represent the restaurant in any way, nor do I claim to be an authority in the food industry in general. I am just a gal with a blog and a passion for food

Super Bowl Sunday won’t be quite as huge, but I do want to try making a good variety of finger foods. There’ll be about 10 people this time, and it’ll be good practice before I head off to New York. Here are a few things I am thinking of making:

Sesame chicken wings
Potato pancakes w/ creme fraiche
Homemade gravlax
Beef and chorizo meatballs with either a mango or raspberry sauce
Melitzanosalata (roasted eggplant and garlic dip)

And for dessert, either profiteroles with banana mascarpone cream and chocolate sauce, or red velvet cupcakes. The cupcakes are very popular with the family, so that’ll probably be what I end up with unless I’m feeling ambitious enough to do both.

What’s everyone got on their plate (literally!) for this Sunday?

- I like to use two eggs for a 5″ pan, or three eggs for an 8″. This keeps the omelet thin enough to cook through and fold over, but thick enough not to tear.

- Equipment matters. The pan should be a non-stick pan with sloped sides for sliding the omelet out. I like to use a silicone spatula to maneuver the omelet out of the pan, but more power to you if you don’t need one.

- Beat the heck out of the eggs with a teaspoon or so of water. If the whites and yolk aren’t well incorporated, your omelet will develop white and yellow swirls as they cook. This isn’t so much a flavor thing as it is a looks thing.

- Heat a generously buttered pan until the butter is juuust foamy. Then, pour the eggs and season with salt. At the right temperature, the omelet will cook through without the bottom turning brown.

- After pouring the eggs, do not touch. Leave it be for 10 seconds or until the bottom is set, then swirl the uncooked egg around so it is distributed and cooks more evenly. Leave it alone some more.

- When the omelet looks almost done (but the top is still just a wee bit runny) add your filling and begin the omelet migration process. Don’t worry about the runny part; once you fold the omelet over, the egg will continue to cook just long enough to finish that bit off.

- If your pan is non-stick and you buttered very well, the omelet should slide out with minimal effort. For a bi-fold omelet, slide half of it out onto a plate and use the pan to fold the top half over. For a tri-fold omelet, flick your wrist so that the omelet slides back toward you and use your spatula to fold it over a third of the way. Then, slide the omelet the other way onto a plate and use the pan to fold the omelet over one more time.

Omelets are cheap to make, delicious, and a perfect vehicle for cheese, bacon, or even leftovers. I’ve spent the last week living off omelets, using everything from chard to smoked salmon as filling. I only wish I had learned to make them while I was still in college instead of sucking up all those bowls of 10 cent ramen.

There are a few dishes I have made in the past that made me go, “Wow, I can’t believe I made that.” This one joins the ranks easily—eggs are so crazy versatile, it’s absolutely amazing.

- Diagonally slice two asparagus spears so that they are about an inch long and 1/4″ thick. “Steam” in microwave for about 30 secs with a pinch of salt.

- Poach eggs in any manner you see fit. I did mine in a shallow pan with pinch of salt and a splash of rice wine vinegar (it was all I had) in the water. My biggest fear about poaching eggs was assuaged after I painlessly removed my eggs from the water with a slotted spoon.

- While eggs are poaching, make hollandaise sauce. I used a recipe from James Beard’s Fireside Cookbook, seasoning with rice wine vinegar instead of the recommended lemon (again, it was all I had—but I was so happy about how it turned out, that I’ll probably continue using it). I think the key to success here was just to whisk like a crazy person!

- Assembly: toast an english muffin and split in half. Top each half with as much smoked salmon as you like, then with the asparagus. Put the poached eggs on top and spoon hollandaise sauce over it all. Add a dash of pepper over the sauce, and garnish with asparagus tips.

Verdict? Holy crap, tasty!

Make again? Heck yes!

Improvements?
- Only one: the smoked salmon was just a wee bit too strong. Next time I’ll probably either put a smaller amount into the hollandaise itself, or use lox instead.

Yay! I am so psyched about how well this dish turned out! Now all I have to do is pull off a souffle…

- Cook pasta. I made shells because that’s all I had, but penne might have been better.
- While pasta is cooking, saute some minced garlic and chopped asparagus in olive oil with red pepper flakes.
- Chop up some leftover chicken (I like dark meat) and throw it in the pan with the asparagus.
- Saute until chicken is heated through, then add a few splashes of white wine. Cook until wine is almost all evaporated.
- Toss over pasta.

The verdict? Considering I am not a huge chicken fan, it was pretty good.

Make again? Sure, but I’d like to have brussels sprouts next time.

Improvements?
- Add more salt. I’d thought the chicken would have enough salt, since it tasted pretty well-seasoned when I first got it. But maybe I am just a salt pansy.

- Add parmigiano-reggiano or pine nuts? I thought it was missing some dimension of flavor, and I have a habit of adding rich, nutty flavors to my pasta. May be just a preference thing.

I am not posting the recipe but it is, with a few minor changes, a standard chocolate chip cookie recipe. The key thing here is the candied bacon, which is rubbed with brown sugar on the top side only and baked around 350-400 degrees (depending on thickness) for 20 or so minutes. Once they were done, I drained the excess fat, cooled them, then finely chopped them and dropped them into my chocolate chip cookie dough.

The verdict? Candied bacon is pretty damn tasty.

Improvements?
- Next time, use milk chocolate chips. I used Guittard semisweet chips this time, which were delicious, but overpowered the candied bacon.

- Don’t chop the candied bacon too fine. Steven’s cookies had bigger pieces that imparted just the right amount of sweet, salty, porky flavor. That sounds a little disgusting, but believe me when I say that it is one of the best things you will ever put in your mouth (possibly the only thing better is the aerated foie gras from wd-50…).

- The standard chocolate chip cookie recipe is burned into my brain, but I forgot to make my usual sugar adjustments (brown sugar > white sugar). This resulted in a texture I did not like as much. More brown sugar makes a chewier cookie.