Look who's cooking!

Pepper: Which is your favorite restaurant Mr. Salt?

Salt: Mmmm.. difficult question you put Pepper, you know that I am a foodie, I have so many of them, but the one next to the beach (read kitcherie) serves amazing food. I can bet on the mullet there, I always make sure I order that on every visit.

Pepper: Aha, I never tried that..

Salt: Oh.. you should, the Chef there is a friend of mine and an interesting person to talk, I just love the way he cooks my mullet to perfection and the way it is always the same... I think he is a gifted Chef, young and very talented. His recipes are just out of the world.

I guess all of us have our favourite restaurant, in that favourite restaurant we have our favourite dish. The one dish that you just LOVE!! It's a must have whenever we go to that restaurant. And also we do not forget to brag about this place and the food all the time.. as if you get paid to be the brand ambassador! The icing on the cake here will be if you are friends or happen to know the Chef or even someone in the Management. Its socialy fashionable.


The above dialogue between Mr.Salt and Mr. Pepper is a very common one, I can put my money on it that all of us must have heard or talked something similar at some point. What made me and Salt think about this is who is the real super star here? Who is the man behind the perfect steak all the time? Is he the same guy who cooks for me all the time? For me and many like me, its easy to identify him. 

Of course he is the Chef! The brilliant friendly Chef who visits the tables in the restaurants, wearing the crisp white jacket with embroidered name, the tall torque and talks about food like poetry.


Think again, is he the one behind the hot stove and grill, sweating it out to do your perfect steak? How does he manage to do it all by himself and still stay so clean in his jaket? You even see on the televison about this handsome pretty face, giving a warm welcome for food.
No it's NOT HIM!

If you observe a busy restaurant kitchen closly you will find that it resembles an orchestra, everyone moves and plays his instrument to precision and at the end what you get is beautiful compilation - MENU!! and all synchronized by a the conductor, the CHEF!

The Man might be the face of the restaurant, might have been a mozzart, but this is not about him. This is about the one violin player in the orchestra who has a very important chord to play. He is the one at the heat of the grill, pushing your orders with skill and craftmanship! He is the less heard of COMMIS CHEF! He is the line cook, or shall I say, he is the soldier with the gun at the front trench facing the first bullet from the other side.

He / she is the one who cooks.
Its the brigade of cooks and in kitchenese terminology  it's called 'Commis'
noun (es, pl2=commis)
1.(obsolete) A deputy or clerk of a foreign official
2.(especially in combination) An assistant to a chef


The second definition is more closer to reality.


It's the commis who actually cook that perfect dish of yours. Please don't take away all the credit from the Chef who make makes the standard, trains the commis and ensures that they cook every dish the same way as he made them see and taste for the first time.


Chef is more essentially a good leader, teacher, cook and a Flirt! I always see Chefs busy flirting with the waitresses at the food pass or anywhere else, atleast thats what my close friend Ms. J.R.C likes to believe. And she is not completely wrong. Trust me, Chefs are pretty good at what they do.. ;-)Anyway, as I was telling, this time it is more about the real action hero / or should I say the stunt man? this reminds me that a close friend of mine Ms.Z, will always tell me it should be less about you and more about others. I agree, thats the key to happiness maybe. So, the Commis Chef needs a special recognition here. He definitely deserves the applause. I always make sure to pass on the thanks from the guests to the team without whom the heavenly experience wont be complete for the guest, and at the same time also make sure to tell the guests that its the hard working Commis who made the perfect steak for him!

Many a times its difficult to find a commis Chef who will share the equal amount of zeal and passion as your very french poetic Chef will have. I believe its purely because maybe the for the commis Chef it is more of a livelihood than a form of art to follow or passion? It is indeed the bitter reality.

the Mozart of cuisine wants his violinsts (read commis Chefs) to be passionate but not always innovative. your favourite steak should taste the same every time you visit kitcherie. Chef likes his commis to display the repetoire of his dishes when he is in the process of making a menu. But once the menu is finalised, Chef does not like the commis to experiment with his menu. he trusts the commis to cook the same way every time.

A highly trained/specialist commis Chef has a good technique, precise movement, clean work table and all of it done with great speed. but the most important character he must have is endurance. he never calls in sick, shows up late, and works his entire shift even in pain or slight fever.

Professional cooking is not about about best recipe, best ingredients, beautiful presentations or the flavour or texture of food. as all of them have been decided much before you take your seat on the table with the beautiful view. its more about what is done at the moment of truth, by the commis Chefs. He cooks with consistency, performs same tasks over and over again in exactly the same way.

So lets give them the due credit for the good job done. a pat on the back and all the words and deeds of motivation for making your steak taste as delicious every time!!

Culinary Journey 1: An Introduction to Food (Pepper)

Culinary will simply mean “of or for cooking”.  Cooking relates to FOOD rather than cooking stories for me! As everyone would accept, except a few (sorry Mr. Molecular foodies) that food necessarily sustains life, I mean that’s the purpose of it.  Taking it to a new higher level does not necessarily solve the purpose what nature had envisioned for food but rather makes it to a super luxury and an experience to take back; which is very acceptable to me.  Rather I do that myself all the time.  Food has been holding a sacred place in all the cultures and traditions that I ever know, even religions for that matter.  Thanks to the continuous efforts and experiments from all Chefs and Mothers worldwide that Food has eventually taken a form of art which we now address by the word “culinary”.  I am no way trying to compare the Mothers to Chefs, I hold Mothers in high regards.

Gastronomy is another thing.  It would essentially mean the art and practice of choosing, cooking and eating good food.  Gastronomy is more of a social element to study.  It will relate the people to food of a particular region.  So, my journeys in time have taken me to and through a lot of gastronomies and eventually a lot of cooking and culinary.  However, the very beginning of my getting introduced to food is quite an eventful tale.

I remember an occasion where a journalist (trust me, media plays a big glamorous role in this sector of being a Chef) once asked me “Chef, what is your first memory of food? (Another interesting fact here which I went to share is that no matter who knows your name or not, even if your company promotes first name culture, you always get addressed by “Chef”, that too with a CAPITAL C).

This question actually got me up and thinking before even giving a well-trained crap answer from my media manager.  Anyway, I had done my practice well and gave a very media friendly diplomatic answer which I am sure made me sound like a born prodigy with a knife and apron! While in my mind I was still struggling with the answer.  I went back to the memory of my first food still struggling to get what it was.  Trust me, I knew that the first food what I had was surely my Mother’s milk but I could go nowhere near to recall how it must have tasted like.  That brought me to the next phase where I had much clearer memories; the first thing that I remember clearly was a mashed apple which my mom used to give as an infant food.  There it was my first memory of food – Mashed Apple! Wasn’t it just great? A fresh ripe plum apple carefully chosen and cooked till tender and soft in a pressure cooker, trapping all its flavors and aromas…oh, it was beautiful! Believe me, I do not remember anything else from those times but my pea sized brain well registered the taste, flavor and aroma of the simple apple mash.

Strange but I do not remember anywhere close to what a lot of packaged infant and baby food tasted like, which I am sure was fed to me as I saw my childhood pictures with the colorful baby food cans in them.  All I related to my first memory of food was a mashed apple.  Looking at the transition, the similar apple mash which as blissful to me then would not appeal me now!  What will appeal me now is the same apple mash but with little cinnamon, caramelized sugar or hints of honey! I can already visualize apple pie somewhere! So what is this transition? Is it the education combined with experiences and training that my palate or taste buds have gone through with each passing day of my life?  Maybe or maybe, it is just me.  I am not very sure if my mom will still choose apple pie over a fresh apple, but then, you cannot compare again; like I said, the Mothers to the Chefs.

Since childhood, I had been quite choosy about food.  Thanks to my generous upbringing and the fact that I was the only kid (read heir) in my entire family. I would usually get all what I wanted.  I never wanted to have candies, chips or chocolates to a major extent. My demands were more to the visually tempting foods like a roast chicken, kebabs, street food and barbecues. I would just tell my mother that I want to eat something every now and then, not that I was always hungry or obese as a kid, just that I always needed something to tickle my taste buds, I used to call it “chatpata” (there are certain things you cannot explain in English, well, this is one of those).  Sometimes my mom will toss this question back to me, “ok, tell me what exactly you you want me to cook?”  I usually had no answers.  When I would complain about the vegetables like Okra and bitter gourd or egg plants for that matter, my mom will take me to the vegetable store and ask me to choose what I wanted.  But going to buy and choose vegetables with her was fun!  I am sure I was a cute kid (or my mom was cute?) and that is why most of the vegetable vendors will give me a carrot or a tomato or a radish to munch on while she was happily bargaining for every penny’s worth.   Sometimes, I used to think how would the poor chap survive and sustain his business after everyone bargains so much with him.  Nevertheless, that was my first experience of raw vegetables and the sweetness of carrots and pungency of radishes is still fresh in my head.

Occasionally, I will get treated for the ice cream from the vendor in the old rickety bicycle.  I still remember his face, I sometimes wonder of all the years of seeing him and he never used to get older.  He was always the same old chap, even when I grow to a handsome teenager!  I would not like the expensive cones but loved the iced lollies (orange, mango), or the make shift vanilla milk cones where the ice cream was skillfully arranged on top of a waffle cone with a rusted steel spoon by my ice cream uncle…we used to call it softy!  That was my first ice cream memory! Then came the western companies with the live ice cream machines for the real soft serves.  We will flock to the neighboring sweet shop for a more than double expensive cone, and I will always struggle to read the name on the machine called “carpigiani”.  Now as a professional, I used this particular brand for making my ices and sorbets.

I grew up in New Delhi, India.  It is a cultural melting pot as it is the capital city of India.  I love the street side food from here.  I have a very fond memory of the chaat from this place.  We had this young guy from U.P. selling chat on a basket kept in his head and he would carry the earthen pot with spiced water covered with a bright red wet cloth shouting something which sounded like “gogaawaaaaaaeesss”.  I still do not what he meant but it surely was a welcome cry! I loved his combinations with sweet sour tamarind and mint chutneys and little spices on the papri chaat with curd and golgappas (my mouth is watery again!).  I do not say that his were the best of product but for a child, it was accessible and cheap. Until today, I cannot forget his signature mustache which looked like a captain’s mustache.  I saw him after like ten years once and his mustache still hold firm and looks the same.

Another of my fond food memory is fresh fruits.  There was this Bangladeshi fruit vendor who will sell bananas only.  He will carry the banana basket on his head and shout “kele lelo..kele company!”, something will catch my attention as to why is he saying kele company (translated to branded bananas by some company).  I do not know if he is influenced by the capitalism that he will try to tell everyone that his bananas are branded, or was it the sarcasm he is putting at the Capitalists?  I was too young to judge that but surely I did think on this.  He seemed like little crazy in the head at times but then who is sane enough.  Eventually, he diversified his business from just bananas to mixed fruits.  My parents in particular loved papayas for some reason.  Sometimes, the point of bargain will shift from money to sweetness of the fruit! I used to wonder how this guy guarantees the sweetness of the fruit.  I learnt about the artificial ripening process from this guy.  He secretly showed me the small packet of carbide which he carried in his head basket to ripen fruits.  First memory again!

There have been so many first memories in my life. First fish, first meat, first kiss, first accident in the kitchen, the very first perfect omelet for that matter.

Going forward to the first day at the culinary college, I was all dressed up in the Chef’s white with a strange funny looking apron and a tall hat.  It was weird at first but then, when you see everyone like feels comfortable, like sauna, first you feel that only you are fat and people are staring at you, but after two minutes you realize that everyone else is fatter than you.  It was the first session with our Chef Professor who seemed like a malnourished kitchen helper (no disrespect meant).  It was about equipment identification and egg cookery.  This was the first magical thing as I was here able to relate to the whys of cooking and see instant results like coagulation of proteins on application of heat and more.  It was just wonderful.

There were so many firsts to come and I was so much looking forward to them.  The culinary journey never ends.  It is a constant road to quest. Live curious.

Signing off now, my kitchen is calling me now.  Another journey tomorrow from the culinary school and beyond.

Birth of Kitcherie

Have you ever wondered why people talk, speak, paint or sing or for that matter blog?? I believe that its an essential human need to express oneself as man is a unfortunately a social animal!
When me (pepper) and my friend (salt) started talking after a couple of drinks on one sunday night we never had really thought that this would take us up to try and create a blog of our own. Actually for all those who have read "Kitcherie"as I have always maintained that it is not always about the food and related thoughts also its not about our urge to become writers or something. Its just a canvas where we want to freely express the thoughts that pop out in our heads and in the due mean inspire ourselves and others. I do not want to be living in a perfect always, spelling and typographical mistakes are accepted.

I still remember was the fall of year 2002, I was struggling hard with our country's education system to prove my intelligence worth and on the same time trying really hard to preserve my emotional quest. Its at times ridiculous that you need to secure great percentages to prove your intelligence. Isn't being intelligent and wise different from being well educated and learned? I remember a lot of people who were not educated, not learned were great visionaries, leaders and had a passion in their life. Need i give any examples? I had just mentioned the word "learned". When I look up the dictionary to check my understanding of the word "learned" it says "someone who has acquired much knowledge through studies"; fair enough, but when is the time to challenge the great gift that we were born with, called brain? Yes, books give the direction but its on us how we interpret them. We need to encourage the healthy habit of muddling what we read in our minds. I believe we should be absolutely free to choose the right from the wrong. What I always see happening is that young minds are always so much conditioned to see and accept things the way it has always been that even a small kindergarten kid will have a negative opinion about the cute looking red devil with tail! Come to think of it, its nothing but the way the surrounding of the kid. Like Pink is a female color! Ferraris are Red! Nurses wear cool sexy short white skirts! or Chef's are dirty and Fat!!!

Never mind, coming back to Fall of 2002, I had done my bit to prove my worth in the country's education system, and was happily moving forward to take up an engineering course without even having a clue to what it will be to be an engineer. Would I be making roads and bridges (at least thats what I think of when I hear engineers, although my dad happens to be an engineer and trust me, I never seen him doing either) or would be sitting in the USA in some software company, punching a monotonous keyboard, having coffee and enjoying my NRI status back home. I didn't know then and i don't see many now either to proudly make bridges and roads, ones I see making roads don't look handsomely paid.Yet, I had this grilled in my head that life after school only starts at an engineering college. But within me, I had to do something more instantly creative! I liked to cook, I always felt that I will be able to take up this easiest form of world's oldest profession and do justice to it as i wont be able to do justice to the other world's oldest profession which, as i know is prostitution!

So here I come to a strange place called IHM&CT Pusa, New Delhi. Believe me, its not one of the campus one would want to be, its not bright and its not welcoming, but there is something in the place which attracted me. The BTK (basic training kitchen) was my first ambush with a professional kitchen and i was in love... As my friend SALT had put it in the previous post APPETIZERS, the beginning of a romance!!! then came ATK (advanced training kitchen) and I was madly in love by now. Passion was brewing like a flavored stock within me, slow and steady only grew stronger and richer everyday. Add to this the spice of having some lovely friends for life.. Abhinav, Raheja, Ravisha, Shradha, Nanzu and of course you Aki.. thanks guys! am I getting too emotional and all? Ok Ok, Cut to the birth of Kitcherie.... After I finish college and secure a decent job and while still keeping the passion on a slow simmer and hunger to learn more and more I met this young business person by the name of Mr.Abhinav Agarwal who had a similar passion like me and he had a major role to make me realize what I wanted to do in my life (that will be a different story for some other time). This was the evening where we usually sit down with god's own drink of a single malt in a delhi bar and trying out our first smoke, the tickling idea of opening a place of our own came back again. It was strong like a thrust and we even went to decide the name of my own restaurant. After some thousand names I came up with the name of kedgeree as the idea was to make the restaurant a place for comfort food, what more could be more comfortable to eat like a rissotto? The indian brother to risotto will be khichdi! or kedgeree which is again a transformed dish in its own. When I thought more of it, i wanted to call it KITCHERIE!!

Its been more than 3 years now, that I had that word with him and it was never forgotten since then. We always talk about this. I always say that alcohol will never lie, hurt or cheat, it will simply heal what needs to be fixed. I was with my friend salt the other day and we thought of voicing our thoughts to the dumb internet where our human need of getting to express is met, we promised to start a blog and then eventually after a long session we passed out.  This time the feeling was all the more stronger to be heard.  Very next day Mr. Salt gives me a call and asks me what will our blog be called? In a flash I respond "Kitcherie".

Kitcherie will be our attempt to voice our mixed emotions and feeling and all the unheard of voices in my little head about eating, passion, relations, friends, everything that is complicated, none the less - Food and beyond.  To me Kitcherie means the kitchen in my head where always something is cooking!! Like a melting pot of thoughts and beyond thoughts.

Appetizer

Becoming a Chef is not like ‘Love at first sight’ it is more like an ‘arranged marriage’

The very first instance an aspiring Chef walks into a professional kitchen, all the dreams of a perfect workplace get a very rude wake up alarm. You are here standing in a big, hot area divided into sub sections where Chefs work like an army simulation. It’s strange, confusing and shocking for many to see how that bloody operation works.

As the newest (and many at times the youngest) member of the Brigade you need to perform a lot of petty tasks like receiving, peeling, turning, slicing, and most important CLEANING. The chance of actually cooking food is very rare. And since you are new and have a lot to learn, you are obligated to work extended hours.

So why would any one still want to become a Chef?

Passion? for food/cuisine

Vision? for future endeavours

Dreams? To become a celebrated Chef, and blah! blah! blah!

Etc…

I believe, that they are all important. But at the start these take a back seat, and the budding Chefs needs determination, perseverance and willingness to learn.

It is with time that a young trainee chef gets acceptance by the kitchen. Every single day you learn something new, you do things that you had only seen other Chefs doing. And of course you TASTE and SEE the ingredients you had read about and seen in books. the first taste of a dish always stays with you and becomes a standard.

It was a sense of achievement I got when I made my first bread in the tandoor. It was not perfect, but the motivation to make it perfect comes from within and from the senior Chefs who encourage you seeing your effort.

Slowly Kitchen becomes more than just a workplace. It becomes Home. You love spending time there. The more responsibility you take for your work the more willingly others teach you the tricks of the trade. Earlier it was the Chef who used to push you and made you do extra hours and later it becomes a routine for you. Even if you leave on time on an occasion you have that feeling of guilt.

With time and study you start understanding the philosophy of cooking. How and why a certain ingredient is treated in a certain way. Why you add salt after the tomatoes, why you need to brown the onions slow and well to get that perfect curry. Slowly these theories that you had learned in college come to life as a practical session in front of you.

Different ingredients, different cooking techniques, different combinations. You start relating to food.

THAT’S WHEN THE ROMANCE STARTS…