Cooking School

How to Become a Great Cook

March 4, 2013 By Chef Chuck 1 Comment

Chef Chuck Kerber

How to Become a Great Cook

I’ve loved to cook from a very young age- luckily I had parents that encouraged my desire to be in the kitchen. I started with the basics- eggs, pancakes, and grilled cheese sandwiches. Simple fried eggs were mastered first- my folks had an ingenious way of making sunny-side up eggs perfectly. First, a small amount of butter was placed in the bottom of a non-stick pan. Eggs were carefully cracked on the edge of the pan and the raw protein would flawlessly ease onto the hot surface. The albumin (the white portion of the egg) would go from clear, to translucent, and ultimately a solid white. The orange yolk was still relatively raw at this point- to remedy this a small amount of water (a tablespoon or so) was added to the hot skillet. Small beads of water danced in the pan and viola, steam was created. A small lid was placed over the eggs, and within a few seconds the scorching water perfectly cooked the yolks. The results were impeccably cooked eggs with a permeable, custard-like yolk.

During my egg experiments I broke many a yolk… my parents would simply say, “Try again.” Finally, after a few hundred eggs, I was able to, on a consistent basis, make sunny-side up eggs.

In the years that followed, my experiments grew in complexity. I learned how to braise, sauté, pan-fry, bake, and fry. When I first began to cook fowl, many of my baked chickens were served partially raw and flavorless. Further experimentation yielded more favorable results. I realized that stuffing the bird with mire poix, (along with fresh citrus and plenty of salt and pepper) yielded a tasty, moist piece of meat. More importantly I began to pay attention to temperature- 165 degrees was the magic number- anything hotter than that would result in moist-free chicken. Also of great importance was letting the cooked poultry sit for at least fifteen minutes allowing the fat within the meat to become viscous, and not escape when the chicken was carved.

After becoming comfortable with the various cooking techniques, I moved onto baking. Baking is much different than traditional cooking in that precise measurements are required to be successful. Pie crusts were my nemesis- no matter how hard I tried, or what technique I implemented, my crusts sucked. Finally, a tip from my sister solved the problem and I was able to make a flakey, sweet crust (I may share the tip in a future post). Breads were next- after understanding how to properly feed the yeast, anything was possible- I made honey whole wheat, molasses, 6-grain, and French bread. The kneading of the dough was therapeutic- the smell of the bread as it was proofing and baking was intoxicating. My intention was always to make my breads as an accompaniment, but I inevitably ended up eating the loaf for dinner- all that was needed was some soft butter and warm honey.

Early in my career when mistakes were made, I was extremely hard on myself- I often lost my temper, and was even known to throw pans and other food objects around the kitchen. Slowly, I began to look at each cooking disappointment as a learning experience. My short ribs burned in the oven? I probably used too much sugar. If my bread didn’t rise I probably killed the yeast by using hot water instead of warm.

My main problem at this point is being overly self-critical… it’s my Achilles’ heel. People tell me over and over again, “Don’t be so hard on yourself…”

One of the most important lessons I’ve come to realize at this stage of my life is that learning is a continual, never-ending process. Regardless of what you do professionally, give yourself permission to make mistakes. Don’t call these errors failures (self-talk is important) see them as opportunities to continue your education.

Regardless of your chosen profession, mistakes are inevitable. Just the other day I was making eggs for breakfast- my yolks broke in the pan. I was immediately transported back to my childhood. Instead of getting frustrated, I continued to cook the imperfect eggs- they tasted just fine.

Chef Chuck Kerber

chefchuck@pittsburghhotplate.com

pittsburghhotplate.com

Filed Under: Food News Tagged With: becoming a chef, becoming a cook, chef, chef chuck kerber, cook, cooking, cooking school, cooking schools, cooks, learning to cook

Kitchen Abuse, Paying Your Dues

April 2, 2011 By Chef Chuck 7 Comments

What does it take to become a chef? These days, it doesn’t seem like much. Every day I run into people that say they’re chefs, but I become skeptical when they tell me about their lack of experience. I’m continually hiring people that assure me that they can cook, but end up being skilled at only one thing; complaining.

Not only do these fresh-out-of school kids expect the world, they don’t want to have to work their way up the ladder, putting in the necessary time and effort to truly learn their profession. I hope I’m not dating myself by saying, “When I graduated from cooking school, things were different…you really had to prove yourself before you got promoted…” The truth is things are different. With the gaining popularity of The Food Newtwork, and other food-related shows, everyone wants to become a chef. What the TV industry doesn’t tell convey to these want-to-be cooks, is that it can take years of brutal work, studying, and personal sacrifice to become a successful chef.

If you’ve recently graduated from culinary school, and are working at your first job, you are not a chef, you’re a line cook. Actually, you’re probably not even a line cook; you’re most likely a prep-cook. You have a diploma, sure, but do you have the experience required to give yourself a title that implies you have the required skills, experience, and education that most chefs have? And most importantly, have you paid your dues? Probably not.

When I graduated from culinary school, and began working, I can recall being constantly reminded that I was barely a cook. I was slave, someone to that was to be used, abused, and overworked on as many occasions as possible. Nights, weekends, holidays…I worked them all. If someone got sick, I got the call. “Get here ASAP.” Absolutely chef, whatever you need. If someone spilled five gallons of grease in the cooler, I’d be happy to clean that up for you. The garbage is full? Have that new guy take it out, and while he’s outside, have him run to the 7-eleven and pick me up some smokes- does anyone else need anything? And PS, “I don’t have any cash, I’ll pay you back…eventually; you don’t have a problem with that do you?” Nope, I sure don’t.

The first kitchen that I worked in after school was full of seasoned professionals; all proficient, and skilled at their craft. They had all been cooking for years, and didn’t care what I could, or couldn’t do. I started on the salad station- the lowest position in the kitchen, and was responsible for making the dressings, specialty, as well as regular house salads, and plating desserts. Another cook trained me- he was being promoted to the appetizers and sauté station, and was glad to be moving up the ladder. He didn’t care who I was, or where I was from- he just wanted to make sure that I was properly trained, and could get the food out…fast. It was also made clear that I wasn’t to ask for help or assistance; if I couldn’t handle it, there were 20 more culinary graduates that would gladly work for peanuts.

My first night we did over 300 covers. I kept up for the most part, but found out hallway through my shift that I needed to cut more lettuce. In between orders, I would run to the prep kitchen and cut romaine, made additional dressings, and pull desserts from the walk-in. When the orders began coming in, and it was time to dress the salads, I would pick up a ladle only to find the handle had been placed over a flame so that would scorch my hand. Apparently, this was done to all of the newbies; a can you handle it test. On one occasion, the Executive Chef walked by, saw my burns, and simply laughed. “Looks like they got you pretty good tonight,” he said. Yeah, I thought to myself, they sure did, and thanks for nothing. Throughout the evening, I had to leave the line to re-stock my station, and returned to the line, I would have to use my side-towel to pick up my dressing ladles to avoid further damage to my hands.

Besides the torture that I endured on the line, there were also end of the evening duties.

“See those drain covers? Well, the gray sludge that has been building up for the past few weeks needs to be cleaned out… the best way to remove the filth is to use your finger, but I recommend you put a glove on first.”

“Hose down the mats, and spray the hoods with these chemicals, but be sure not to get them in your eyes, or you may just go blind…”

Mop, clean, repeat. This went on for an entire year, until I finally had proven to the chef, and line cooks that I had the required toughness, attitude, and fortitude to be on the line.

Our broiler cook quit to be Sous Chef at a new steakhouse in town, so everyone on the line got moved around, and I was promoted to the appetizer and sauté station. Finally.

The next week I began training a recent culinary graduate. I showed him how to make the dressings, plate the salads and desserts, and prepare for busy nights. I didn’t warn him of the impending bodily injury that he was about to experience- this would have been frowned upon.

His first night by himself, newbie ran out of salad mix, just like I had many times. He ran to the prep kitchen to cut more lettuce, and as he did, two of the line cooks put his ladles over a flame while another stole his chef’s knife. The poor kid was quickly in the weeds, as he wandered around the kitchen looking for bandages for his burns, and a new knife to cut his desserts.

Congratulations for my promotion came in the form of a pie to the face with such force that it bloodied my nose. None of cooks apologized for the assault; the just laughed and continued to cook. I didn’t care, I was finally part of the team, and it only took a year.

I was the second person to leave the kitchen that night. I watched as newbie sprayed down the hoods. The chemicals would burn his hands and face just as they did mine; who knows if he would be willing or able to put up with the humiliation and punishment on the line- I hoped he did, because in the end, it was worth it.

Chef Chuck Kerber
Pittsburghhotplate.com
chefchuck@pittsburghhotplate.com

Filed Under: Food News Tagged With: apprentice, baking, cooking, cooking school, culinary, culinary arts, culinary arts programs, desserts, foodnetwork, internship, kitchen, kitchen abuse, kitchens, knives, Pittsburgh, pittsburgh cooking, pittsburgh dining, recipes

March 18, 2010 By Chef Chuck 13 Comments

So you’re thinking about becoming a chef? Well, there are a few things that you should consider before taking the plunge. First, let’s look at some culinary history. Several years ago, someone approached a small cable network and decided to start a food network that would run continuously, 24 hours a day. I imagine at the time he/she were laughed out of the room. Who would watch cooking shows non-stop? Surely there wasn’t a market for something like that. Well, someone was listening, because in February of 1993, the Food Network was born; an all-food, all-the-time channel. They began programming very slowly, and the audience grew, and fast. There was public interest from the earliest days of Julia Child, but nothing like this. As the ratings and audiences of these popular shows grew, so did the popularity of cooking schools. Students rushed to enroll; the lure of popularity and possibility of becoming a star was too great to resist. Well, let me be the first to tell you it’s not like it is on TV. The Chefs that you see on these shows have most likely been cooking for several years; at least 10 to 15, and beyond. The reality of cooking school is this: it’s tough, and requires countless hours of study and practical knowledge if you want to be successful.

I remember my first day of Culinary School very well. There were 25 of us sitting at metal tables in a kitchen. Our coats were crisp and clean, and our knife kits had yet to be opened. We were all checking each other out- who was the best? Who would still be around in two weeks? The Chef walked in; she wore a standard chef’s outfit with one difference from ours; she had a real chef’s hat. The long kind that you see in movies and TV…it was majestic, but more than that, it was intimidating. The Chef sat quietly, and with great purpose. She put on her spectacles and began calling role. Most of us at that point realized that this wasn’t going to be easy; we were going to have to earn our grade.

We were asked to open our knife kits. Inside were: a knife, fork, and spoon. Also in the kit were a Chef’s knife, a boning knife, and a filet knife. Cutting shears (scissors) and sharpening steel were also included to help maintain the edge on all of our knives. Lastly, there was a serrated knife for cutting bread. My classmate next to me decided to take out her butter knife first- she cut herself badly and was taken to the hospital for stitches. After that, the rest of us were careful removing the contents of our kits.

The Chef instructed us on how to properly hold a knife, and cut vegetables into tiny strips and cubes. This went on for the next two months until everyone was proficient enough to move onto the next class. We got yelled at continuously for not curling our fingers to avoid cutting ourselves. We got yelled at for wasting vegetables. We got yelled at for talking during our cutting exercises. At the end of our two month cycle we all realized that this wasn’t going to be a cake-walk, it would be serious work. A dozen students who dropped out also recognized this. As we continued to learn our basic cooking skills we would hear stories of other class schedules within the school. A student cut herself, passed out with the knife still in her hand and stabbed the Chef in the leg on her way to the floor- they were both hospitalized. We also heard horror stories of other Chef instructors at the school. One in particular was the seafood Chef. Apparently he was particularly tough; only 80% of his classes passed. Thank goodness we wouldn’t have to deal with him for several months. Our very last day of instruction of Skills Kitchen was going to be fun. Those of us left were beginning to feel a small sense of accomplishment- we felt sure that we could excel in the next kitchen; Soups, Stocks and Sauces. We got the Chef a cake in appreciation of her brutality and willingness to tolerate us greenies. I was excited- one day, a few hours of relaxation making anything we wanted and eating some good chocolate cake. One of my good friends in school, his name was Eli, severely lacerated his finger while cutting the Chef’s cake. I took him to get stitches, 14 in all – it took two hours; so much for chocolate cake.

Our Chef instructor for Soups Stock and Sauces was a short, jovial man. He was continuously happy, and an excellent teacher. He truly loved the subject he was teaching, and it was obvious from day one. As the class progressed I noticed something interesting; all of my classmates began to evolve and come into their own. The first kitchen, Skills, didn’t really allow students to show their particular talents, but this class did. It was fun coming to this kitchen each day; we truly learned and absorbed the material. Hollandaise, tomato, and Demi Glace sauces were made on a daily basis until they were perfected. We learned how to make basic stocks, consommé, and stews…we even got to sample the Chef’s famous clam chowder. By the end of this cycle we were sad to leave. Our instructor taught the students, and not just the subject.

Meats kitchen came next. Our class was excited, because this is when the program truly became hands-on. We were able to implement some of the skills we had learned in the previous two kitchens, and learn about meat fabrication at the same time. Also, we would learn all of the basic cooking techniques; sautéing, braising, and grilling. Our Chef instructor was an excellent Chef, but clearly distracted. For two months he taught us all about meat. It was great to finally get our hands on some product and cook it. We were also able to pair a starch and vegetable with each dish for the first time. We all passed our practical exams and were ready for the next round.

Seafood kitchen was next. We were scared to death because this was the most difficult class to pass. In other classes we were graded on a cumulative amount of class work, in seafood kitchen we would be graded on one practical cooking exam. If you failed this exam, you had to repeat the class. It didn’t help that this particular Chef had a bad reputation for intimidating students, and not giving passing marks. The rumors were true; our Chef instructor actually took pleasure in frightening us. He also took pleasure in mocking us, and our mistakes. There was so much to learn in seafood kitchen, but it was difficult because there was always an underlying anxiety amongst everyone, and the nervousness created a difficult learning atmosphere. The day of our final cooking exam came, and we were horrified. We didn’t like our instructor, and the thought of repeating the class with him made us sick. There were four possible dishes that we had to prepare, and the Chef would pick from a hat, and inform us what we had to make. I had to prepare horseradish-crusted monk fish with roasted pepper coulis. I received a 90%, and was pleased. Some of my classmates didn’t fare as well. Unfortunately, six failed and had to repeat the class- three of them dropped out of the program. The rest of us were relieved and eager to start the next kitchen, Bake Shop.

Bake Shop, or “Brake Shop” as some referred to it, was fun. It wasn’t as demanding, and our Chef Instructor was an excellent Pastry Chef. She taught us about yeast breads, cookies, proofing, and how to use pastry bags. Instead of using pastry cream, we would made pounds of instant mashed potatoes, and used the heavy starch to practice our piping skills. Our instructor graded us on everything we did, but it was never nerve-racking because she always created a setting conducive to learning. She spent hours with us teaching the intricacies of fluid and weight measurements; all essential to being a good Pastry Chef or Baker. We learned how to make croissants from scratch. Our morning meetings were started with brownies and fresh coffee- it was a blast.

The final section of school was International Kitchen. We read about, and prepared dishes from many different cultures. During this cycle there were no related classes. We spent almost six hours in the kitchen, every day for two months. It was a pleasure to come and cook for such a long time with Chefs that were good at their jobs. They weren’t judgmental when we made mistakes, they simply showed us the correct way of doing things, and we moved on. Our final exam took place over three hours. We had to cook a several course meal in the allotted time, and present it to our instructors. By this time, everyone had grasped the basic knowledge required to be successful in the program. We all passed, and were happy to complete the program.

Upon completion of school we had to sign up for a three months externship. During this time, the Chef we were working under was to stay in contact with the school with updates on our progress (or lack thereof). During this externship, you are unable to quit for any reason. If you choose leave, the Culinary Institute would withhold your diploma. Most of the time these pairings are successful, but I have heard of situations that were not tenable, and the student simply had to suffer during the 90 day period.

Le Cordon Bleu Pittsburgh is currently $42,600.00, for the basic culinary program. Upon graduation, you will receive an Associate’s Degree in Specialized Technology. So, that’s actually 12 months of classroom and practical instruction for $42,600.00, not 15. Let’s do the math. For each month of school, you’re going to be paying $3550.00; pricey right? There are grants and scholarships available, but you have to qualify. There is another option. Contact the American Culinary Federation. Last time I checked it was $100.00 a year to join. There are apprenticeship programs available, and you’re only responsible for the cost of the initial membership (fees are due yearly). The programs are ACFEI certified. What happens with this type of certification program is this; the student is paired with a professional Chef and works under him/her for a set amount of time, usually at least a year. When the student completes the training, they will have the same type of certification as if they had gone to a certified cooking school. The advantages of doing an apprenticeship program are two-fold. First of all, you save money. Secondly, you get real-world experience. After you receive your certification I encourage you to complete your degree. What this does is set you apart from all of the other culinary graduates. It opens door, believe me. Many of the management jobs I got were because I had completed my undergraduate degree in Business.

If you truly want to become a Chef, I encourage you to go work in a restaurant for six months before considering school. Many people, because of television and media, have an unrealistic idea about what cooking for a living is all about. I’m not saying that it can’t be glamorous and fun, but you have to sweat, and work long hours (for years perhaps) before you get to that point. I also believe you have to have a natural talent and passion for cooking to be truly successful in this field. If you’re interested in cooking, but aren’t sure if you want to become a professional Chef, consider individual classes. They are usually offered at community colleges and cooking schools. If you excel in these courses, you may just have what it takes to become a pro.

Filed Under: Food News Tagged With: chef instruction, cooking school, culinary school