CurvyMama’s puttin’ on her white chef’s jacket again. But this time it’s not my off-the-shelf chef’s jacket. It’s a jacket embroidered with the L’Academie de Cuisine insignia and my own name. Isn’t that the damnedest thing?
This kitchen adventure isn’t another hang-around in a New York City restaurant kitchen. It’s a five-month pastry course at L’Academie de Cuisine here in the Washington, D.C. ‘burbs.
For three hours every Monday night from now through May, I’ll be immersed in “Batters & Doughs, Bavarians, Creams, Mousses, Ice Cream, Chocolate, Hot Desserts, Cookies & Petit Pieces and Cakes,” as the course catalog says. (Note the capital letters. This connotes the extreme seriousness of the endeavor.)
Assuming I survive this odyssey, I’ll earn a certificate that says that, well, I survived this odyssey. More importantly, I will have learned oodles of fascinating stuff that I can bring to you every week in this space. I have to practice these new techniques during the weeks between classes. And I’m sure I’m in for some spectacular screwups, both in class and in my own kitchen. And I will bravely document them all for you here, to the best of my ability (and to the extent that I can juggle a notebook, a mixing bowl, a spatula and a camera in class).
I’m going to wear my pie necklace for good luck, even though pies do not apparently get the respect to warrant inclusion in this pastry class. That’s okay. I won’t take offense. I’m full of the Spirit of Pie Nation: buttery, down-to-earth and full of good will.
Wish me luck.