* Non-Weeping Willows

I feel wickedly self indulgent.

I am not even going to portray myself as

giving one rip about feeling guilty.

Part of my education includes doing an internship with a chef for 360 hours of hands-on learning time before graduation. My internship has been arranged and its time to tell you all about it. Its pretty sweet, actually. Try not to be jealous.

In southern Oregon, the Rogue River cut a valley out that is as fertile as any region in Tuscany. Right at this very moment in this valley, pears are blooming, mushrooms are peeking out of the soil, calves, lambs and kids are being nursed on sweet milk and the first strawberries are hitting the farm stands. Soon, olives and other tree produce will be growing, cheeses will be formed and set out to age, and salmon are getting ready to be snagged. The world is waking up with the climbing of the mercury.

Nestled into the hillside of this valley is an inn called The Willows. Its part of what used to be a 1000 acre farm from back in Teddy Roosevelt’s time. The inn has a cooking school as well as rooms to let. Weddings, private parties, seminars, dinners, cooking classes- it does everything. Chef  Sandy Dowling and her husband Joe host an intern for the summers, sometimes through grape crush in the fall, to learn the Inns and outs of innkeeping, banquets, breakfasts, teaching consumer classes, table service, decoration, culinary and baking/pastry. Its also chock full of networking opportunities. This year, I am that lucky duck intern.

My internship will include, and try not to whine here: Rogue Creamery (world champion Bleu cheese a few times over) and another award winner, Lillie Belle Farms Chocolates. Yes, that means I will be making cheese and chocolate confections while I am here. It sucks to be me, totally.

After I interviewed with Sandy a few weeks back, I was asked to join Sandy and a guest chef named John Ash for classes at the school. Chef Ash is the “Father of Napa Valley Cuisine” and has a great history with some of the greats in the food world- M. F. K. Fisher, Julia Child, and Jaques Pepin. I am glad I also did not previously know that he has been on the Food Network, has three IACP/Julia Child Award winning books and a slew of other awards. No pressure- just come down and sous chef for his two classes, right? I ’bout crapped my pants with nerves all month long waiting for the opportunity to work alongside him. After all, he is an insructor at the CIA Greystone- would anyone not feel that kind of exhilarating intimidation?!?

I bargained for a week off from school (desperately needed) as long as I promised to do double shifts to make up the time. With blessings upon my head from my chef instructors, I hauled ass down to Central Point and hit the ground running. First task after 5 hours in a hot car was to help make dinner for Chef Ash and 8 of his closest friends. What an engaging bunch they were! Everyone made a point to speak to me and my partner ( a part-time intern who will be popping in and out) and ask us what made us tick, what our goals were, about our philosophies and any other points of intrigue. They all took that data and began to weave us networks of potential adventures and experiences we need to have as students and future culinarians. Words were encouraging, passionate, supportive, and most unusual to me- familiar. Being with people who are driven by food and quality ingredients as this collection of people are was a comfort and a joy to behold. I was finally able to carry on an intelligent conversation about locavorism and sustainability with people who live and promote it. It was totally fuckin cool.

Chef Ash is a delight to work with. He cares a great deal about the next generation of cooks that go forth into the world, and he has respect for every individual he encounters. As he was teaching the class, he was elaborating on subjects that he and I spoke of privately not only for the students’ benefit, but for mine. He addressed a few of my philosophical issues while I hustled in the wings, prepping for him. He was so generous to include me as a valid pair of ears, even though I was his backup pair of hands and nearly invisible to everyone else in the cooking studio. He never stopped teaching me insider stuff as he taught everyone else outer fringe stuff. He is one cool dude.

I have one more class with him tomorrow evening, then I head home. As a treat before going, Sandy is taking me to meet Monsieur Louie, the French mushroom hunter at the farmers market, perhaps a trip to the grain mill, and to learn where all the purveyors are located for later on this summer. Joe’s parting gift to me is supposed to be a hellacious batch of jalapeno poppers he is famous for. Its gonna be a good summer, I think.

School Update

Last week was grueling. My legs had totally forgotten how to stand for umpteen hours since leaving scrubbing full time. My ass and other parts south have gone soft from sitting at a desk job, then leaving the medical world for academics and hours of bun-numbing study sessions. Embarking on the joy that is Third Term made my legs wish they had never been born.

My schedule for this term is Demo Kitchen first, then Pro Skills (classroom) before leaving for internship in June. Demo kitchen means that we are feeding customers, working on the line, rotating through five stations every few days. My first station was Pantry, or Garde Manger, the preparation of cold foods. I will move to Saute’, Grill and through two Sous Chef assignments in the next few weeks.

Prepping for a brilliant spring menu sounds like a joy until you realize that you have tons of shit to roast, peel, par-cook, blanch and shock, marinate, rest, whip, saute’, bake and such BEFORE you ever get out on the line to make plates. My salads were gorgeous compositions of the season’s best offerings, but the mise en place was a total bitch. My first day of production was 8 full hours of cooking and plating. I barely had the energy to be nervous out on the line.

When we opened up shop, I waited for my starting gun. Three of one, four of another, two of the third salad… It was a little slow at first. I got the call to haul ass and I made up some serious time, yet still plated beautifully I was told.  Not bad for a first night- only 20 something diners. The next night it nearly doubled and I got into the weeds (Linespeak for “screwed”). I accepted a hand from Chef Saran Wrap, gratefully. Not implying anything other than total respect, I gotta say, that man can really toss a salad. Third and fourth nights were equally hairy, and I kept up as well as I could manage, delivering a pretty plate every time.

All the while I was on Pantry station, I read Chef John Ash’s book From The Earth To The Table. I stuck to the salad section, reading along at his brilliant instructions and garnishing details. It was all coming together for me as a producer of plates at last, that understanding of how foods go together, why they are used in a dish, what it looks like when it is plated in a creative way, and why accents are added before sending them away to the table. I was finally being able to envision his dishes in my head as he wrote of them. I no longer felt totally blind or lost. I was learning how to plate food, by golly!

When I get back to PDX next week, I will be on some other fast and furious station. None of which does not scare the ever loving shit out of me. I am in good hands with Chef Saran Wrap, though. I told him of my weaknesses and I trust him to help me conquer the beasts. Sometimes, the best way through a malestrom is right down the middle of it, and I am not one to miss a good fight.