Mise-en-Place

(otherwise known in French as “everything in its place.”)

Two weeks ago, I finished a six-month, keep up, brain turn on, focus, focus, focus cooking course. And in a word… it was… delightful. To be exact, I attended classes at The Los Angeles Cooking School in Culver City where every Saturday morning at 7:30am, I woke up, grabbed a coffee, arrived at 9am sharp and with 12 other students, went through their 80-hour, 6-month program called the Pro Cooking Course. I did it and when I arrived, I listened, I watched a demonstration for about a half hour and for the remaining 3 1/2 hours, I concentrated hard, and I mean really hard, on the meal that was assigned and that I would need to prepare. Because I am not a chef. Trust me I’m not being humble. I am the kind of cook who can whip some dishes up with a few ingredients in the house and make something somewhat tasty. Sometimes it will have more flavor, sometimes it won’t. Most times it will look attractive because I actually do care about presentation. But again, not a chef. And I would say after 80 hours of cooking everything from stocks to macarons, I, thank goodness, understand the importance of Mise en Place and am an improved cook. I have a better knife with better knife skills. I have a chef’s coat with lots of stains. I add more salt and butter because you always should. And I understand the absolute need and exactitude when making pastries and desserts to measure by weight! 

This all makes me super happy. It was not cheap so coming away with some skills is a good thing. But what I will say, more than anything else, and in the corniest way possible, that class fed my soul. It fed a part of myself that had not been satiated in a long time. Like so many of us, and a lot of people I know, we forget about the things that we like to do, used to do, want to experience. It’s not that I didn’t have a life with a husband, a child, and a job, I’ve had all that, still have it and more. But there have been parts of myself I just didn’t have time for or didn’t feel I could indulge in, based on, well, the duties of life.  

So, when my daughter went off to college and suddenly I had my Saturday’s free, I thought, I’m going to choose time for myself with something I love. I remember my hand hovered over the enrollment button for about 10 minutes. It was a commitment I would have to stick to, money I would have to pay… I would be accountable. When I finally hit send, it was the first time in a really long time I felt excited about something. Maybe that’s kind of depressing, but I think after working for a thousand years, being a parent, being a person these days in this crazy world…saying yes to yourself is pretty important. Let me say it once more for the cheap seats in the back… I can’t recommend it enough! It doesn’t have to be cooking, it could be learning the bassoon (random), knitting class (more realistic), piano lessons in your house (it’s already sitting there). Who cares, just something that gets your head away from the everyday and guides you to a place in yourself that is perhaps more creative, more open, more alive. 

I chose cooking because I love to eat. A lot. And let me say this, not everybody does. But me, I get off on a really good meal, the atmosphere, the presentation and the absolute genius and skill of combining ingredients in a way that could only be described as sublime. You truly don’t know the work that goes into opening a restaurant, creating a menu, and executing it unless you watch “The Bear.” Kidding. Sort of. Until you have experienced cooking on a team, under a ticking clock and once completed, have it sort of resemble, as much as possible, the recipe that was given to you. And that’s just barely, and I mean barely skimming the surface. 

The truth is I find cooking meditative. I just kind of sink into what I’m doing and forget what’s happening around me. Sometimes I’ll have the TV on, but most times I’m listening to music and stirring or slicing or marinating, and I get into a zone of sorts. I also love hosting dinner parties. I romanticize them and the idea of friends sitting around our table, good music playing, laughing, clinking their glasses, and food glorious food everywhere. Like a scene straight from “Julie and Julia.” Pure joy. I also like I like the idea that if people are taking the time to come to our house they won’t walk away with a feeling of disappointment – at least not with the food. 

More than ever, I have such a deep respect for running a restaurant well. And if you’re blessed to be at a restaurant with a brilliant chef and magnificent food presented to you, consider yourself lucky. As for me, I’ve been learning a lot. And failing a lot. And practicing a lot. Here at Dahlia, I will share recipes and little tricks of the trade I have learned. I hope it helps. I hope it feeds a small part of you that fed me and inspires you to try something new. Anything really that gives you that little bit of joy that perhaps you’ve been forgetting about for a minute. 

For the curious reader, check out https://losangelescookingschool.com/