The Baguette

I went into culinary school with a chip on my shoulder as did most of the culinary program students.  We all thought we would become a hot-shot chef, the next big thing, and we all shared a disdain for the Baking & Patisserie students.  It was nothing personal, it was just the thought that they sit in their air conditioned kitchen all day, twiddling their thumbs waiting for their bread to rise while we are out slaving over a 350 degree grill, getting grease burns, developing calluses on our knife hand and snapping the leg joints of chickens.  Their undeviating use of recipes and their meticulous measuring were a sharp contrast to our throw in ingredients will-nilly method.   So it was no surprise that there was much murmuring over being required to partake in two baking classes.

The first day of Intro to baking was just that, an intro to baking.  We got the syllabus, did a quick overview of the book, were assigned our partners, were introduced to the foreign equipment, and were treated to a vitriolic diatribe where we learned that the baking side hated us just as much as we hate them.   The second day is where it all clicked for me.  I got to class 20 minutes early as was customary for me, I looked over the syllabus, determined what we were doing that day, opened my book to the recipe, and prepared my mise en place*.  We were making baguettes (I’ll Share the recipe with you soon) which is about as simple a bread as you can get, the recipe simply consists of flour, water, yeast, and salt.                                                       *For those of you who don’t watch food network, mise en place is the gathering of all your ingredients prior to cooking.

Before we started any mixing or baking we had to have a demo by the chef.  He demonstrated the bread making procedure to us like we were 3 year olds who had never seen a loaf of bread, and somehow he had maintained the level of hatred he had established the previous day.  We were finally released to make our own baguettes.  I was one of the few in the class to actually take the chef seriously.  I carefully measured out my ingredients by weight, I timed exact mixing times, rising times, proofing times, and baking times.  As I looked around the room though, I realized I was in the minority.  Most tables didn’t even have their scales out, they just tossed the ingredients in the mixer and went for it.

I must say, my finished product wasn’t perfect, but to me it was a thing of beauty.  A near perfect 24 inches in length, 6 inches in diameter, 3 evenly spaced slits in the top, a crunchy dark brown exterior with a soft wonderfully textured interior.  I was in Love.  I ate one whole baguette while cleaning and another half while listening to the chef yell at all the students who didn’t measure their ingredients.  At the end of the class he extended the invitation to us to come in early and practice our baguettes because they were a part of our test that coming Friday.  I was in 45 minutes early every day that week to get my baguettes started.  By the end of the week I was an expert baguette maker and had become pretty good at making the other types of bread also.  This classed changed my whole outlook, I had begun to enjoy baking equally as much as cooking.

Today, years later, I still love both sides equally.  I see the merits in both styles and I know that one would not be as good without the other. but I feel a special sense of wonder when I pull that bread from the oven and realize I have just created this thing of beauty.  Its a sense of wonder that has yet to be equalled on the culinary side.