Category Archives: FCI-International bread baking

Viennoiserie: Croissant and Pan au Chocolat



Viennoiserie played a major roll in my decision to go to culinary school. If you’ve ever had a really good croissant, and if you love baking as much as I do, you’ve probably spent a few sleepless nights wondering how that baker who made that perfect croissant achieves such gorgeous, buttery, flaky perfection.

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The Breads of Germany and Central Europe



I love looking at this photo because it demonstrates that I’m getting closer to becoming a professional baker. On Friday there were eight different types of dough to be mixed and taken through production for our practical exam on the breads of Germany and Central Europe. It was a tight schedule, made even more difficult by my team’s additional duty of baking the morning baguettes for lunch in the restaurant, but we pushed hard all day long and got the job done. These are the fruits of our day’s work; examples that we selected for critique by our chef instructor.

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The breads of France and Italy



It was on a train, bound for a weekend getaway to Fire Island, where I began struggling to define my relationship with bread.

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Jicama Slaw Recipe



Friday morning the alarm went off at 6 and I groggily went through the motions of what has become my new morning routine: accounting for all 6 pieces of my regulation cooking school uniform, ensuring that everything is clean and well-pressed, and then throwing it all into a bag and running out the door, bound for a non-negotiable coffee truck stop to coax me into consciousness so that by the time I’ve changed in the school locker room and arrived in the bread classroom, I might have a shot at having the mental acuity to hold my own for my team’s morning dough mixings.
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Our daily baguettes


This afternoon, I exited the French Culinary Institute building using the student door located on Broome Street, and proceeded to make a right into the throngs of gridlock choking the sidewalks on Broadway. I’m guessing that any day now I will begin to instinctually hang a left, seeking the relative serenity of Layfayette, but for these first days I’ve relished breaking my usually-brisk stride, because it makes me feel more rooted in my new surroundings and reminds me that this is real.

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