From St. Barths to St. Honore

What can I say? It’s an untraditional lent.

Good thing it’s not my Christianity that’s being assessed these days. But in all fairness this experience is based upon indulgence and emersion so the thought of giving up sweets, sugar, or alcohol while in the thick of culinary school seems frankly counterproductive. I assure you that there are no brownie points for abstinence around here.

In fact the French have an saying “Faites le beurre” which serves the same idiomatic purpose as the English saying “bring home the bacon,”



but is literally translated: “make or bring the butter.” I bet that I bring home enough butter these days to feed the entire block, so thank goodness my husband’s doing his job as the breadwinner.

And in an effort to provide the moral foundation for our family, as any proper French wife apparently should, I give you a bit of Christian culinary history behind this devilishly delicious dessert.



The Gateau St Honore was created in France and named in honor of Saint Honore, the patron saint of pastry chefs and all bakers. In the 7th Century, St Honore was the Bishop of Amien, a cathedral whose impressive height and stature is recognized round the world. So I find it wonderful that we top this cake with a whimsical spun sugar tower.



I like to think we are honoring the beauty of our Saint’s beautiful contribution to history and culture.



A St Honore Cake is composed of a puff pastry base, with pate a choux ring that lifts up the 11 profiterole cream puffs that top the cake.



The center of the cake as well as each cream puff is filled with Cream Diplomat, a pastry cream based filling that gives a wonderful hit of Grand Marnier flavor to each bite. The Crème Diplomat is then piped across the cake using, appropriately, the St Honore piping nozzle.



The 11 profiterole puffs (meant to honor the 11 true apostles, excluding Judas) are secured with caramelized sugar and toped with roasted almonds. But the real show stopping element in this glorious gateau is clearly the spun sugar nest that carries crystalized violets high above the pastry base.



This cake is a beautiful ode to the sparkling brilliance of spring- I can almost hear the birds chirping with approval at the sight of this sugary shell.

It makes wonder whether the chicken, the egg, or the cake came first….

Disclaimer: do not leave by open window


Darcy Jones

Cheeseburger in Paradise : A Visit ReVisted

Legend says that when Jimmy Buffet wrote the now iconic island tune he was sailing a small boat throughout the Caribbean surviving on nothing but peanut butter and canned food. When Buffet anchored in the port town of Gustavia on St. Barthelemy (known to us all as St. Barths) he found a bar stool at the local island watering hole, Le Select, took one look at the menu, and the Cheeseburger in Paradise was born.



Whether this story fact or fiction, I can confirm that the food of St Barth’s is definitely something to sing about.

Now as romantic as Buffet’s rationing may sound to some, is about as frightening as facing the baskets on Chopped sounds to me, but that’s in fact exactly what chefs and proprietors on St. Barths experience everyday. An island restaurant is entirely dependent upon imports, and these often unreliable deliveries can pose a serious challenge for any chef any day.


I guess it’s all ‘island living mon.’

At least that is clearly Michelin’s view, as the guide refuses to consider restaurants in regions where the supply can’t always be guaranteed. But if you think anyone’s missing Michelin’s shinning light on this mouth-watering mecca think again:



Dinner at Le Gaiac at Hotel Le Toiny is just as sparkling and spectacular as any Michelin star. The Chef Stephane Mazieres just received the distinction of Relais Chateaux Grand Chef this past November. He is one of 160 master chefs in the world who hold this impressive title, and it is easy to understand why...


A Selection of Sweet Crab Starter


Lamb Three Ways


The Parmesan Wheel in which fresh Truffle Oil infuses pasta in prepared warm a la minute.


And the classic Crepe Suzette, table-side. Yep: Old school, and I love it.


Whether it’s breakfast, lunch, drinks, or dinner at Isle de France it truly doesn’t matter: you cannot go wrong with anything on the menu and the setting, well speaks for itself:


Welcome to La Case de L'Isle


Sunset on Flamands Bay

A light and luscious lunch at La Case always presents the freshest French meets Thai cuisine.



Ok, maybe not so light after all...


"And my Glass?"


Easily distracted


And 4pm... Barefoot Luxury at it's best.


I mean come on! Breaking up beach-time with a little lunch (and a libation, or two) a stone’s throw from the waves is the mark of true paradise.



So if you thought Paradise was Lost, news flash: I think I found it.


Discovering Saline Beach


Me and the old Island breeze

When sunning on Saline the secret escape to the shade can be found at the Tahitian style Le Tamarin. Fresh caught seafood and shellfish appear on the menu infused with exotic garden ingredients.


Le Lobster


Spicy Shrimp Tartare

I promise you’ll find flavor-packed pairings and fabulously colorful presentation. And you’ll never be without Rose in your glass, a Stephane Pompougnac remix playing, or a that perfect boutique sitting, conveniently, steps away from your table.

Now, if indeed you're craving pasta midday, (because all that body surfing can spark a serious appetite) Pacri is the best on island.


Herb Gremolata Stuffed Macaroni with Parmesan Emulsion and Tomato Butter Sauce

Personally, I prefer it for dinner where it becomes a lively atmosphere to enjoy squid ink linguini, or a respite for romantic rigatoni and a well-balanced red: heaven, pure heaven.

We came, we saw, we consumed. And I was more than pleased to discover that St. Barths is also where you’ll find a foodie in Paradise…


Gone

Eating.



Darcy Jones

Proof!

First day back in London. Rainy and wet but there are signs of a spring soon to come.



Today we began with an easy introductory to the second semester of pastry. Just when I thought I had finally gotten over the exam embarrassment of my wet pate a choux and burnt pastry cream, what is our first recipe? Gateau St Honore (a cake composed of non other than pate a choux and puff pastry). I hoping this was not done in my honor, or should I say in my memory…

We’ll see how it turns out tomorrow.

Despite a two hour torturous reminder of the past, I received a sweet reward that made it all worth it:



Pain is Beauty





Darcy Jones

Judgement Day

En early Monday morning wake-up. What a surprise: I couldn't sleep.

After taking our written theory exams in the morning, I took a walk to kill the time and clear my head of anything food-related before hearing how I did. As I wandered throughout the sunny streets the first signs of spring were popping up everywhere

But despite my mind clearing efforts, sometimes fate won't allow you to avoid the inevitable...


Store Window One


Store Window Two

Yes, that's a french bean bundle pillow and a crab chair. No comment.

But more importantly, after an excruciating 72 hours waiting for the verdict, I got my results... I passed!

See you in 2 weeks for Part Deux: Intermediate Cuisine and Pastry.
I will also have some delectable details from the divine food of St. Barths so stay tuned for more sweets and savories this Spring!



Darcy Jones

Case of the Cordon BLUES

A gloomy peace this morning with it brings. And what a tearful 24 hours it has been. As you may have guessed, the cuisine exam did not go well. And now you know that I am a rather dramatic mourner of all things lost in testing situations.

I was given a break, or so I thought, and pulled the beef as my test recipe. I will spare you the long drawn out details of how and where I went wrong, how I couldn't get anything right, and how despite getting the easiest of the 3 recipes, I still managed to run 2 minutes late (costing me 2% points per minute off my score). This is all acceptable, until the shocking news arrived: the judges had made a horrifying discovery on my plate. It arrived to the table with a hair hidden in the carrots... Not only could this hair never have come from my head, but there was absolutely no sign of it when I checked the plate prior to leaving the kitchen. Eat your heart out lemon sole; when chef returned with this news, I was the gutted one.



And so this morning reared it's ugly head and for the first time, in I can't remember when, I had to forgo contacts for glasses.
Assessing the damage done to my living room from the previous post-assessment evening: a kicked bottle of Bordeux, two bloodied and beef-jus-stained aprons, a cell phone convulsing on the last legs of low battery, and a barrage of increasingly depressing and indecipherable text messages to anyone and everyone who would listen, I realized I was acting more like a carnivorous beast than the distinguished culinary student I am supposed to be.

With that (and with a big fat Please Forgive Me gift in route to my husband's office) I stumbled into my kitchen to resurrect another fallen hero...



With a clear disdain for travel of any kind (see their previous appearance), these pate a choux swans have become my Stay-at-Home-Swans. Let's just hope that if I get these Homebody Birds on the pastry exam they'll be suffering from a rare case of cabin fever and relish an outing to the schools patisserie...


Chantilly Crack


Ducks in a Rows


Squawk Box


Love Birds


Darcy Jones

The Awful Offals

You knew it was coming.

It had to be done.


(que the ominous chords)

The Offal Practical
If you've ever wondered where the phrase 'waste not want not' comes from now you know. Offals: tripe, sweatbreads, kidneys, liver, oh I could go on, but I've decided to spare you.

No matter how you disguise it and dress it up (and believe me we did) it's hard to get over the foreign taste, texture, and smell.



But as it's important to expand your mind, it's equally important to expand your taste buds...as hard as that is to swallow.

Today we breaded and pan fried liver placing it alongside deep sautéed and seasoned potatoes and drenching the liver in a heap of caramelized onions.



Proof that I did experience this acquired taste.

Darcy Jones