Culinary school: Fire scallop!

Smoked scallops with butternut squash puree, brussels sprouts, brussels sprout leaves, pomegranate seeds and fried shallots
Photo taken by Jake Yont

The pan stayed hot on the burner as I waited for an order of scallops to be called.

It was our fourth day on the line at L’Ecole, The French Culinary Institute’s restaurant. My classmates and I had moved onto Level 5, the second to last level in our program. Mark, Christopher, Alejandro and I had been assigned to Poissionner or the fish station. Alejandro cooked the branzino, while I seared scallops. Mark and Christopher plated each dish.

“Fire a scallop!” Chef C yelled.

“Scallop heard!” I replied.

I squirted oil in the pan. The oil began to ripple and vapors started rising from the surface, telling me the pan was hot enough. I heard a sizzle as I placed two scallops in the pan. We had smoked the scallops before service, which made them taste like bacon.

I watched as the edges of the scallops turned brown. I lifted one up to check the color. It still didn’t have a good sear, and I put it back down.

“Fire 3 scallop!” Chef C yelled. “That’s four all day!”

“Scallop heard!” I chirped back.

I had to cook four orders of scallops, including the order I was cooking now.

I dropped cubes of butter in the pan. The butter boiled and browned quickly as I flipped the scallops. I basted the little seafood medallions with the browned butter, making them turn a shade darker. I gave the scallops to Christopher to plate, as well as the caramelized brussels sprouts and brussels sprouts leaves I had sauteed.

Christopher had made an arc of butternut squash puree with his spoon on a square plate. He arranged four brussels sprout halves and leaves around the scallops that he nestled above the squash puree. He dropped pomegranate seeds on the plate, laid fried shallots on the scallops and squeezed pomegranate molasses vinaigrette in a circle around the scallops.

I seared six more scallops and gave them to Christopher.

“I need those scallops!” Chef C yelled.

“They’re coming, Chef!” Christopher and I said.

Alejandro and Christopher ran the plates up to Chef C, putting them under heat lamps.

More orders kept coming. I just stared down at the deep brown color of butter in my pan and frantically basted scallops.

Christopher took a break to get plates of family meal from the kitchen next door.

“Jenny, you can eat. I grabbed food for you,” Christopher said.

“No,” I shook my head.

I squinted at the board, my body all tensed up, waiting for an order to be fired. Finally, I gulped a few bites of scalloped potatoes, not even touching the chicken leg.

I seared more scallops. I had thought the Monday before Christmas wouldn’t be that busy because the last Monday was slow. But we had 66 covers--- 66 people who expected their food to be perfect.

It was almost 10 p.m. The only fish order left on the board was for scallops.

Chef C leaned forward from her perch at the front of the kitchen.

“Jenny, you have four orders. You need to anticipate,” she said.

“Yes, Chef,” I said and nodded.

I had already sautéed the brussels sprouts for the orders and was keeping them warm on the grill.

“Fire four scallop!” Chef C yelled.

“Scallop heard!” I replied.

I seared eight scallops and then hit the pan with butter. I flipped the scallops. Two scallops had browned too much, a couple were on the light side and some were browned just right. I drenched the scallops in browned butter and gave them to Christopher.

“I burned those,” I said. “I think I should make them again.”

“No,” Christopher said and he turned the offending scallops over, showing a lighter side.

With the last order out, we cleaned up.

“You did good today,” Chef C said later.

“Thank you, Chef,” I said, feeling relieved.

I could do this. I just needed to trust myself more. 


Photo taken by Jake Yont
________________________________________________________________
For more culinary school-related posts, click here.