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It’s tricky to work in unfamiliar kitchen. You open the wrong drawers, bumbling around to get everything sorted and to be worse, are forced to use some dull blunt knives. It’s a challenge to cook meals for the masses, providing some ten twenty different dishes options to several hundreds of guest. The tools and cooking apparatus are different, the container that will hold up to buffet-style service are different, the time and space required are definitely different.
For the above reasons, I respect the neighbourhood ad-hoc aunty catering team. These aunties, mostly housewives, renowned for their cooking skills, will get together when a catering service is required, usually for events like house warming, festive season open house, birthday parties. Regular food on the menu includes: fried meehoon/noodle/rice, curry chicken, assorted deep-fried items like prawns, chicken wings and fish balls, stir-fry mix vegetables, fruits and jellies.
The aunty catering team certainly has experience cooking for crowds. They arrive at the preparation kitchen (usually an outdoor space extended from the kitchen of the host) early in the morning with their own pots, tools, ready to get started. Like a professional kitchen, there will be a head cook that determines “who do what at what time”. Just as soon as the washing, peeling, chopping, boiling begins, the gossips begins (and seems like it will never going to end).
“You are sooooo lucky, your daughter-in-law helps you clean the house,” says Aunty Envy.
“Not as lucky as you lah, your son brought you traveling to China,” echoes Aunty Never-Enough.
Aunty Curious joins in the conversation, “This prawn is very fresh, where do you get it?”
“I’m friend with Fishmonger-Ah-Sang, he gave me discount,” replies Aunty Who-Knows-Everything, proudly.
Even in someone else kitchen, these aunties sit comfortably on a stool or on the floor. With both hands and mouth working simultaneously, they even manage to cook for their own lunch and have coffee break in between preparation time. They don’t use a scale, they measure with shovel, bowl, or just by the ‘feel of weight’ in their hand. Watching them cooking with wok is like enjoying a martial arts performance. Roaring flames, clanging metals, aromatic vegetable dancing around the wok, these aunties demonstrate an abundance of “Wok hei” (in Cantonese) or “Wok qi” (in Mandarin), the distinct flavour and taste achieved through quickly tossing or stir-frying in a hot wok.
Hours of peeling and chopping can be tedious and monotonous. However, to aunty caterer, this is just another cooking session. The level of organization involved in aunty catering, from sourcing for suppliers to kitchen management, is impressive. Guests are satisfied with the food and aunty caterers happily bag home some side income and lots of gossip. Aunty Broadcast grandson’s birthday is around the corner. Next outing secured.
I ordered a cod dish at a restaurant the other day. Minutes later, a service staff came with a menu, apologetically, he said, “Sorry, the cod is eighty-six. Would you like to order something else?” I was surprised, not because the restaurant didn’t have cod on that night, but the restaurant term “86” just slipped out from the mouth of a service staff.
For most people who are not working in F&B industry or who are not familiar with American slang, “86” is just a figure. In restaurants, “86” means that an item has run out or not available. The origin of this expression is a puzzle, simply google on the net, you can find at least three different sources. “86” is used frequently not only as an adjective but also as a verb meaning “to ignore” or “to kick out”. You can start practicing this multi-purpose code in your daily life: “Hun, toilet rolls 86” “86 the salesperson at the door”.
There are certainly a lot of useful restaurant terms. In a fast pace kitchen, time is gold. Words are or given different meaning to speed up the flow of a restaurant service. “Fire” or simply a gesture of firing a gun is another common expression to indicate “start to cook now!” So, in your next dining out session, when you have finished your main course and ready for the dessert, try speaking to your service staff “Dessert fire, please.” He/she will probably respond with a delightful smile and your dessert will be ready before you know it.
If you aspire to become a foodie, speak the restaurant language. Perhaps, watching Hell’s Kitchen helps.
This is a fine dining restaurant kitchen during the peak dining hours.
“New order!” Chefs searing Wagyu beef, sizzling foie gras, adding final touches of truffle oil…There’re a bunch of demanding customers out there, eagerly waiting to savour these luxurious ingredients.
For many chefs, the luxurious ingredient is time. MSG loaded instant noodle, artificial flavoured and coloured crackers, greasy burgers and fries, you name it, they eat it. Fortunately, one of the blessings to live in Kuala Lumpur is that there are still hawkers stalls serving decent food at cheap prices even during late nights.
It’s almost midnight when I reach home. I don’t normally eat supper but hey, there’s Mom’s curry chicken in the fridge!! It’s so tempting that I almost wanted to eat it cold. So, for friends who is too embarrassed to cook for me, here is the truth: I miss home cooked food.
“We received your application to work in our kitchen. Could you come to the kitchen for a tryout next Monday?” “Yes, sure!” I said confidently without any hesitation. Oh my god, a call from the HR of a Michelin-starred restaurant! Just right after my graduation at Le Cordon Bleu! My first job interview for a kitchen position! But…what exactly do they want to test me?? Should I know the recipes? Would I be requested to make a cake from scratch?
After countless question marks, I arrived at this Michelin-starred restaurant in London. Posh flashy dining area. Pastries on display look promising. “This way please.” I was led to the back stage operation area. Walking through several flights of dimly lit staircases, I got my uniform with an apron full of patches and holes, which was like Cinderella after midnight – plenty of works ahead.
Chef J introduced me to the pastry team. Everyone stopped working, all I could see was young faces waiting with a broad smile to greet me with a warm welcome. “Are you the only female in the kitchen?” I asked Chef J. She nodded. No wonder I felt like entering an army camp. “This is Chef A, our pastry chef, you will be working with him today.”
“Nice to meet you, Chef A”
“Ganache, you know?”
“Yes, chef.”
Waa.. straight to the point, like a commander.
“Scale 3.6 litres of cream, 300g glucose…”
No recipe folder? The ingredients just shoot out like a machine gun. Aye, aye, sir.
Err…where’s the scale? What about the maryse (French; a soft plastic spatula)? I realized that despite being in London, I was in a French speaking kitchen. With very limited French vocabularies, I felt handicapped navigating through the corners to get all the ingredients and equipment I need.
“Why so many bowls and pots?”
“Set up Bain Marie (French; an indirect heating method) to melt the chocolate, Chef”
“Use microwave”
Ya, why not? Chuck it in. “Ding!” Done. Oops, gone a little wild on the time, centre was a little burned. Quickly scooped out the mess, fingers crossed no one would notice. A colleague, French, passed by, right on time, pointed at the bowl of chocolate. I put a finger between my lips, with a smile, mimicking “Shh..Merci”. He nodded.
“The cream is heating. Anything else I can help, Chef?”
“Make apple compote. Get forty five apples from fridge.”
Damn, these apples are heavy! On the way back to my workstation, the other guy who is peeling a pile of potato gives me a ‘felt sorry for you’ face. I shrugged. Apples, apples, seemingly endless apples.
Around one thirty, Chef J brought me to staff canteen for lunch. Only wilted mix salad leaves and some boiled boneless chicken breast swimming in a pool of diluted tomato sauce were left. The chicken breast was tough and tasteless. I couldn’t believe these food came from the same kitchen that produced Michelin-starred dishes. Oh, please have some mercy, staff’s stomach is not a bin recycling whatever substandard items.
The day didn’t get any better after lunch. Chef A passed me a packet of sago pearls.
“You know how to cook this?”
“Yes, chef.”
Sago pearl is a common ingredient in Southeast Asian dessert. OF COURSE I would know.
When the sago turns translucent, it’s ready.
“Sift it” said Chef A.
“Sift?” Are you really sure about this?
“Yes!”
Chef A handed me a sieve and walked away. Well, well, maybe it’s the ‘Michelin-way’ of treating the sago. So, I pressed the pearls through the sieve. When Chef A came back, he was shocked looking at my bowl of gooey mess.
“Where the balls?”
“I passed them through the sieve, chef.”
“I want the balls!.”
“Sorry, chef. Yes, chef.”
Ok ok. French and English couldn’t understand each other well. I did the same thing again. The second time, I STRAINED out the sago pearls.
“Your job is finished. You can go home now.” said Chef A.
Did he mean I am done with you?
“Really? There isn’t anything else I could do?”
“It’s ok. I will let you know my decision later.”
Huh, what a day! Although my body repeatedly demand ‘I need food, I need shower, I need rest’, my brain was occupied by ‘I should have done this, I shouldn’t have done that’. Lessons learned. Life goes on. The next day, the HR from this restaurant told me “You’ve got an offer.”
What a surprise?!
“Smallest size please.” Excitedly, I tried on my first chef uniform. The Le Cordon Bleu logo was printed clearly on the top left corner. To my dismay, the double-breasted jacket looked loose from every angle. “No smaller one?” “Sorry.” Uniforms supposed to project professionalism. In this ‘one design fit all’ jacket, no matter how many folds I rolled the sleeves and how tightly I tucked the jacket, I still looked like a teen trying to wear his dad shirt.
Together with other students, I waited in the demonstration room. The principal introduced us to the head patisserie chef. My oh my, she was a big mama. Was this because of all the sweet calories intake? I love patisserie but no, no, no, I couldn’t imagine myself “carrying twins” for years and years. I made a promise: I would put all my effort to learn from these great chefs, but I would never be an obese chef, not in my whole career.
Just how hard is it to stay in shape for chefs? Chefs live and breath food. They are constantly expose to hard-to-resist good food. Chefs often eat their meal at odd hours or simply grazing along when cooking or both. An easy way for chefs to release stress at the end of their working shift is gobbling down bowl of food accompany with alcoholic drinks. Yet, to me, staying fit is crucial as a chef. Imagine you are on your legs for at least ten hours a day. You move around the kitchen frequently, from the refrigerator to the oven; you stretch up and squat down to check the ingredients stocked in shelves; you carry pots and bowls fill with kilograms of stuffs like a dumbbell. It is indeed a physically demanding job that test your stamina.
To have stamina in a professional kitchen is to be able to keep focus and
efficient for long hours under high pressure. Staying active will definitely help in coping up with the pace in the kitchen. Michelin-star chefs, Chef Gordon Ramsay and Chef Michel Roux Jr. are keen marathon runners. More and more chefs make time in their busy schedule to exercise. The stereotypical chef’s belly image is from the old days. Being a chef is no longer an excuse for being obese.
I am not saying that chefs or any cook who deal with food a lot should start running marathon or gave up all the butter and sugar. It’s no fun to eat fat-free blanched vegetable. I do indulge in real buttery croissant and creamy ice cream. I believe the key to healthy eating is to get fresh ingredient with good quality and savour each bite of it. You may be surprise that you actually don’t need to eat that much of food to feed your crave.
How much is a cup of flour?
Is it American or Australian measurement?
Should I packed up the flour in the cup? Leveled? Sifted?
I’m really glad that I work with a digital scale rather than having cup and spoons lying around. Unlike seasoning a steak with salt and pepper, you can’t simply add a dash of sugar and a sprinkling of gelatin powder to a jelly mixture. It is important to respect the ratio of ingredients in the recipe that went through many trials and errors to achieve the desired balance of flavours and texture. A scale is vital if you want to achieve consistency in quality. After all, cooking is science.
However, one should never follow recipes blindly. Ingredients vary from batch to batch, even if it’s coming from the same supplier. “How long does it take to cook?” is probably one of the most common question asked. I remembered when I was learning at Le Cordon Bleu, Chef Christophe would never answer this question directly. Instead, he would say: “Till it’s done.” I come to understand that the timing will vary depend on the condition of the ingredient, the environment…it is more important to understand the why behind the how and know the result you want to achieve.
In an F&B operation, a good kitchen management will have scientific method to ensure the same dish look and taste the same every time. Recipes, digital scale, slicer and other gadgets are just some of the ways within a food producing system to minimize human variance, and thus lowering the cost of waste food. This definitely benefits the owner of the operation but not necessary for training a cook’s on cooking science and sense.
Look for the freshest ingredient you can get, feel the texture, smell the aroma, taste the food, analyse recipes, get to know your oven and tool. With a solid fundamental of good food in mind, you are then free to experiment with and express through food.
This is a concert hall. A round of applause is given to Prague Chamber Orchestra for their brilliantly performed notes.
“We will have a twenty-minute interval. Light refreshments will be served at the banquet hall on ground floor,” said the emcee.
Gentlemen in suits and ladies in evening dresses start inching along the stairs. Five minutes passed.
This is the banquet hall. Station one: coffee, tea or water. Station two: Selection of sandwiches and tea cakes. Station three: What’s going on? Why’s there a crowd?? Oh, there are hot finger food: curry puff, spring rolls and …hands reaching for fried chicken. In minutes, one tray gone. Minutes later, another tray arrived and gone.
“The performance is about to begin. Please make your way to the concert hall,” announced emcee.
This is the flight of stairs towards concert hall. Ladies and gentlemen inching along. Some with a fried chicken in one hand, some still chewing, and who is the one that just burp out ‘a stream of fried chicken’?
Thanks to the cooks who worked hard feeding the hungry stomach while the soul is enjoying a world class performance. A lingering night indeed.
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