Pork Tenderloin: Watermelon Marinade And Watermelon Salsa

Pork Tenderloin: Watermelon Marinade And Watermelon Salsa: Chef Jay Moore from The Culinary Institute of Platt College has a recipe for Pork Tenderloin with Watermelon marinade and Watermelon salsa

http://www.plattcolleges.edu/culinary/Culinary-Disclosures.htm
Since 1979, Platt College exists with one purpose; to create a workforce of professionals with the skills and training necessary to answer the needs of today's and tomorrow's workplace. The college is located in Tulsa, Moore, Lawton, Central and North Oklahoma City as well as in Dallas, Texas. For more information call 405-946-7799, or visit www.plattcolleges.edu.

Chef Jonathan Groth - Crab Cakes

Chef Jonathan Groth making Crab Cakes from the lunch menu.

http://www.plattcolleges.edu/culinary/Culinary-Disclosures.htm
Since 1979, Platt College exists with one purpose; to create a workforce of professionals with the skills and training necessary to answer the needs of today's and tomorrow's workplace. The college is located in Tulsa, Moore, Lawton, Central and North Oklahoma City as well as in Dallas, Texas. For more information call 405-946-7799, or visit www.plattcolleges.edu.

Chef Jason Lee and Oysters O'Conner - KSBI TV

On Tuesday of this week, Chef Jason Lee appeared on KSBI to make a special Oyster dish in recognition of the upcoming St. Patrick's Day holiday.











http://www.plattcolleges.edu/culinary/Culinary-Disclosures.htm
Since 1979, Platt College exists with one purpose; to create a workforce of professionals with the skills and training necessary to answer the needs of today's and tomorrow's workplace. The college is located in Tulsa, Moore, Lawton, Central and North Oklahoma City as well as in Dallas, Texas. For more information call 405-946-7799, or visit www.plattcolleges.edu.

Try this Healthy Version of Eggplant Parmesan for One or Two | Specialfork's Blog

Try this Healthy Version of Eggplant Parmesan

Just wanted to share this from a blog that I follow. I love eggplant parmesan, and this is a great looking recipe.

http://www.plattcolleges.edu/culinary/Culinary-Disclosures.htm

Since 1979, Platt College exists with one purpose; to create a workforce of professionals with the skills and training necessary to answer the needs of today's and tomorrow's workplace. The college is located in Tulsa, Moore, Lawton, Central and North Oklahoma City as well as in Dallas, Texas. For more information call 405-946-7799, or visit www.plattcolleges.edu.

Student Blog Entries - "First 6 Weeks" by Sarah Phelps

One of the first days of culinary school, Chef Rob Ferris was telling us about the different jobs we could vie for when we had graduated from the program.  As he listed the responsibilities of executive chefs, caterers, personal chefs, etc., one of my colleagues raised his hand and asked, in a very serious tone of voice, "What if you want to be an Iron Chef?"

After a second of absorbing the question and a slight twitch in the corner of his eye, Chef Rob explained patiently that if you wanted to be an Iron Chef you would probably need to follow a direction and become the very best there was in that genre of cooking.  He went on to dethrone most of the Food Network personalities.  Most of them were not chefs.  In fact, we would not graduate from the program as chefs, he told us.  Rather, to be a chef you must run a kitchen.  

You must be able to take charge of a team with skill and grace, eliciting from them not only fear but the kind of genuine respect that will prompt them to watch out for your best interest even when you aren't watching.  You must be a kind of wizard accountant, reducing your food costs to the lowest possible percentage while maintaining a standard of excellent quality in your product.  You must be a diplomat, schmoozing the ownership, keeping management happy, coddling the waitstaff, and training and overseeing the kitchen staff.  Oh, and it's also pretty important to be a talented culinarian.  

The first couple of months of culinary school did much to debunk many of the myths of "chefdom" that have become part of our collective belief system thanks to outlets such as "Food Network."  However, during that time I also experienced a moment of high drama which was absolutely made for television.  

The day had finally come for the final exam of the Soups, Sauces and Stocks class.  To understand how momentous this felt, you must understand what it took to get to that point.  We had all come into class the first day chomping at the bit to get into the kitchen.  We were ready to begin creating the masterpieces that would cement our reputations as phenomenal young chefs and etch our names into the annals of culinary history.  

Instead we got to sit on our hands and spend the first two weeks getting prepared to earn our certification in ServSafe.  Parasites, Viruses and Bacteria…oh my!  Sanitation practices, cross-contamination methods, minimum cooking temperatures and health inspection reports drifted through my subconscious even as I slept at night. 

After passing the ServSafe exam and proving that we had the knowledge to produce safe and wholesome food, we were finally issued our knife sets.  The excitement in the room was palpable as we went down, row by row, and collected our black bags full of the tools of our new trade.  There was a sense of anticipation as we entered the basic skills kitchen and set up our stations for the first time.  

For the next week we learned the different knife skills and basic cuts that distinguish a cook from a chef.  We burned though fifty pound bags of carrots and potatoes like nothing, learning to produce the perfect batonnet, brunoise, fine brunoise, dices of varying sizes, julienne, fine julienne, and the daunting tourne.  All had to be perfectly uniform and precisely shaped.  The smallest fraction of an inch would mean a deduction on the final exam.  

After completing the knife skills class, I felt I had gained valuable knowledge and established a foundation which I would build upon during the remainder of my time in culinary school.  However, unless you count chomping on the odd raw carrot which I had failed to coax into a perfect seven sided football shaped tourne, I had still not eaten anything I had cooked. 

So getting into Soups, Sauces and Stocks was very exciting.  Starting out, we boiled bones, vegetables and spices to create flavorful stocks.  Then we learned the five mother sauces, the classical french sauces from which all other sauces are derived.  Finally we made soup, soup and more soup.  Luckily I had just purchased a large freezer which sits in my garage, because it is now halfway full of soup.  

The day of the final exam had arrived, and it would be the first time I would formally present food to be tasted and critiqued.  We were instructed to prepare the five mother sauces and a soup of our choosing within the time allotted.  

Feeling very in control of the situation, I clarified the butter I would need for my hollandaise first and set it to the side to cool. This process involves heating the butter and carefully skimming the milk fats off as they rise to the surface.  The hollandaise would be the last sauce I would make, but the butter had to be cooled in order to incorporate correctly.  I went on, methodically making each sauce and putting my tomato basil cream soup on the stove to simmer.  I was happy with my results and had avoided major catastrophe so far.  Four of my five sauces were in souffle cups on a plate, and my soup was plated beautifully and garnished with basil chiffonade.  

With about twenty minutes left I felt very confident, and got ready to start my hollandaise.  This is a finicky process which involves whisking egg yolks in a stainless steel bowl over steam, removing them periodically from the steam to prevent the egg from actually cooking, then slowly adding cooled clarified butter while still whipping furiously to give the sauce just the right consistency.  

As I was gathering my mise en place to begin the sauce, I could not find the butter I had clarified at the beginning with the intention of having everything ready for this critical moment.  After spending a minute checking and rechecking everything on my work surface to be sure I was not simply overlooking it, I whipped out a saute pan and started melting a chunk of butter.  After going through the process again I whispered a prayer that the butter would cool enough in the time it took me to whisk the egg yolks and got to whisking.  As I finished the sauce it was not what I had hoped for.  Instead of being a smooth, beautiful yellow buttery sauce it was clumpy with the butter separating out from the egg yolk which I had obviously not whipped long enough in my frenetic effort.  I plated the sauce and looked at it unhappily.  I glanced at the clock and realized I had ten minutes left.  The worst that could happen was time would be called and I would have to present my inferior sauce, but I sure was not going to sit there and twiddle my thumbs if I could possibly finish a better one.  

After tweaking the seasonings on what felt to me like a miraculous hollandaise, I proudly got into line to be critiqued.  I was beginning to understand the feelings of anxiety and exhilaration experienced by aspiring chefs who competed on shows like "Chopped."  I had faced an unexpected challenge and overcome it and was feeling pretty good about myself.  

I set my plates in front of Chef Rob, and he started with my Tomato Basil soup.  He pulled a plastic tasting spoon from the pocket of his chef coat, tasted and let the flavor develop in his mouth for a couple of seconds.  "Very good," he said.  "Full points."  Going on to my sauces, he pulled out a new spoon and said that the tomato sauce could have been strained to a finer consistency but had great flavor.  The Veloute could have used a touch more seasoning.  One point off for each.  Hollandaise was perfect, which definitely provoked an interior victory dance after all I had gone through with that sauce.  

Then came the Bechamel, a creamy milk based sauce.  Chef Rob dipped the end of the spoon in the sauce, but as he pulled it out he did not bring it to his mouth to taste.  Instead he lifted it straight out of the souffle cup and held it in front of his face with a look of disgust.  My eyes followed his and, horrified, I saw what he was looking at.  An inch long hair dangled from the edge of the spoon.  I gasped and shrunk to approximately two inches tall with shame.  

How could this happen?  After weeks of training on cleanliness and sanitation!  I was wearing my hat, had my hair pulled back, had not once touched my face or hair.  He grabbed for the hair and gave it a little tug. It didn't budge.  He smiled looked at me and laughed.  It was not a hair after all, but rather a thin plastic thread attached to the spoon.  Not a breach of sanitation, but a simple manufacturing flaw.  As I returned to my station, one of my colleagues asked how it had gone.  "You're trembling," he observed.  I just shook my head and chuckled to myself. 

Student Blog Entries - "Death and Character" by Ebeth McLaurin

Death and Character, after an enduring and mentally challenging first few weeks these two words are what stand out the most when I think of Platt College and the Culinary Arts program. Death because it is a sheer miracle, luck, and or my mother’s internal instinct to initiate immunities in me that would allow me to live after all that I have learned in Food Safety and sanitation. Many examples, of closely avoided death traps lurched into mind as Chef Rob described the varied ways one could cross contaminate and fatally end your career as a chef. Not to mention your own life or that of a child and elderly people. Naturally, that first week I was in constant communication with my mother warning her of the impending doom of botulism and the horrors of Shigellosis. I hope she learned her lesson; as well I did and no longer left the chicken out on the counter to defrost.  Now, I know how naïve I truly was before entering the kitchens of the great Culinary School.

 I freely call it great because where else would such great fear be instilled in a person to the point that it had you studying nightly into the wee hours to make sure that you achieved that elusive ServSafe Certification . It was that one, sole piece of paper that told your future employers that you were worthy to step into their kitchens full of knowledge of sanitation and safety. However, your foot in the door is probably as far as you would go without further instruction of basic cuisine that could invigorate memories for your future clients or if fortunate enough, could bring back memories of your grandmother’s kitchen with all the aromas and mouthwatering flavors that would be captured in a single taste of chicken soup, done the correct way that is.

 As the journey is started you think you know who you are as a person but, soon you learn that perhaps you don’t know anything about yourself after all. Many opportunities are presented as soon as you start training in the kitchen. Some are quite easy if you have done it before such as mop, sweep, and wash a dish simple thing, right? Yet, this is exactly where your character begins to rear its head.

 Sure you can wash your own dish or your own pot, but are you willing to help your class and wash 10-25 pots and dishes. Or better yet, are you willing to sit there and scrub the burnt sauce that another classmate just tossed at the back of the sink as they hurried on to the next task at hand. Is mopping a whole kitchen at the end of an exhausting day worth demonstrating that you are that one student  who is willing to go to the next level to prove that you are worthy of a recommendation from your instructors?

 All these thoughts flow through your mind as you listen to Chef Rob reiterate the care you should take in improving your character, while you are here at school. This is the time to make mistakes and learn from them. Whether it is burning the béchamel, or plating the perfect catfish dinner or the menial task of sweeping a dirty kitchen.  This is the time to learn to stop and help a classmate whom is struggling a bit with keeping the flame low so as to not burn the fried chicken or grabbing that mop bucket while others move idly around not realizing that if you don’t get out by three you’ll have to pay that late fee at the day care. It is these two concepts Death and Character that are plastered into my mind as I go to bed each night and awake every morning. How can I improve my character, and what will I look out for in the kitchen to avoid death. Let’s see what the rest of these next couple of months will bring and what words will become my bedtime stories, until then Bon Apetit!

Student Blog Entries - "When I Grow Up" by Robert Nalagan

As the students from our most recent start in January were leaving 6 straight weeks of kitchen work and heading for their first round of Gen Ed classes, I challenged them to contribute to the Platt Culinary Blog. I asked them to blog about their experiences thus far here at Platt College. Below is the winning blog from Robert Nalagan.

"When I grow up"

 Sweat beaded off of my chef cap, and my heart was racing like water coming to a boil. I could not stand the heat and I was not even in the kitchen yet. Thus began a new chapter in my life, as my first day of classes commenced at the Culinary Institute of Platt College. I know I am talking like this happened a long time ago (at least, it feels it happened a long time ago) but in reality it's only been six weeks. Six weeks of school, four weeks of being in the kitchen, 42 days of pure action. This is culinary school, and I am a culinarian. The first time I looked inside the kitchen, the first aid kit unhinged by itself, as if it was daring us to try to dodge the bullet, taunting me and my class with impending danger. I remember thinking to myself "Bring it on!" And then I cut myself the next week.

 Okay, okay, that felt like a commercial for the Marine Corps. The fact is, for the first time in my life, I'm enjoying myself in school. I wake up now and look forward to class. It's pretty ironic, coming from a guy who, more often than not, opted to skip class in college. Even more ironic is that this is the best I've done in school at any point in time. There's a proverb that states that when the student is ready the teacher will appear. It's different this time, it's different in this school. I've always had problems taking criticism and always saw it as slander against me. I don't get the feeling that the chef instructors are enemies. In the last six weeks, I have learned a multitude of information in such a short time. I have actually had to become a fast learner in order to keep up, and I've never been a fast learner at anything before. This time, however, I find myself doing things I never dreamed I could do. I have learned so much: everything from how many ways a chef can actually poison or kill someone with food, to learning it's wrong to cut holes into meat to let a marinade seep in, to even learning how a self-doubting man (such as myself) could do things he denied himself to even dream of. It's been only six weeks since I started, but in the those six weeks, I feel like living a whole other life. It's like I'm looking at a whole new Robert each time I look at myself in the mirror.

When I slide on that chef's hat, when I button down that coat, I see someone different inside, even though it's the same face I've always seen on the outside. I'm still imaginative and creative and goofy, yet it's behind a new shell. It's no longer the dummy in front of the mirror, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm no longer the Robert who walked invisible wherever he roamed. Now I am seen, I am acknowledged, I am accepted. For the first time in my life, it feels good to be me. People used to always ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Second to being an NHL goaltender, I just wanted to grow up happy. I gotta admit.... It feels good to be a grown up now.