What a fantastic, totally draining, fun filled week of teaching San Francisco high school students how to cook, bake, and serve just harvested fresh and healthy homemade meals at Pie Ranch – farm to table style – you pick it, you cook it, you eat it!
Um, Let me rephrase that: a fun filled week of thirty hormonally challenged high school students cooking, baking, farming, learning all about food systems, boning up on agriculture, and camping at Pie Ranch with no cell coverage – let the hunger games begin!
For the first time in my life, I was very popular. These young adults were keenly aware of who buttered whose bread. Either that or they just enjoyed listening to their “S.F. beats, yo” in my outdoor kitchen yo. A stereo with large bose speakers does wonders for one’s status. Who knew? And who knew that so many young people wanted to become chefs too? Pictured below is an upcoming culinary star…
Yes, I heard it several times throughout the week: “Chef Amy is sooooo raw.”
That’s slang for ‘cool’. In case you didn’t know.
I knew I would impress with a chicken parting demonstration. I began the demo slowly taking one chicken apart piece by piece explaining each cut with careful attention to detail and then sped through the next chicken with shouts and gasps of amazement for my speed and precision from the teenage onlookers.
Again, the crowd roared: “Soooooo raw……”
But I wasn’t the only “raw” instructor there. Oh no, there were several including their teacher Laurie, who has pioneered this partnership and program with Pie Ranch for the last five years. For half a decade she not only has camped with the students, monitored behavior, and provided lessons but also cooked 3 meals a day for them. I gave her a little break this time around with some culinary assistance.
Debbie my colleague from Echo Valley Farm (who is also “raw”) demonstrated chicken processing. By this I mean: capturing the chicken, putting the chicken head downward in the killing cone, holding the chicken still, cutting quickly through jugulars on each side to kill and bleed (not so easy), and then plucking and gutting.
Suprisingly, the kids were brave and respectful during this demonstration. And, yes, the students were heavily prepped for this experience and no one was forced to partake. Every student ate chicken for dinner no problem. And all said they would think differently about buying chicken in the market and choose organic!
For the quiche recipe, the students collected eggs. Which I found out wasn’t so “raw” because cleaning eggs is “sorta boring” and they feared the chickens would peck them. (No one was actually maimed however.) I sympathized with this feeling because I, myself, have the same fear when it comes to chickens. That’s not to say that I don’t care how they are raised and treated, I just don’t find them cute and cuddly like the baby lambs on the farm. (And I will never understand why France has adopted Le Coq as it’s emblem.)
Before I wax on about how cool it is to actually be considered cool for a week, please tell me you’ve heard of Pie Ranch. You haven’t? Whaaaaat??!?!
It’s a pretty big deal out here on the West Coast. Pie Ranch is a non-profit working farm teaching students and communities about sustainable agriculture & farming, food systems. They do community outreach with schools all up and down the coast, barn dances, weddings, events, team building workshops, they host a CSA & a farm stand, and help newly trained farmers with land aquisition to ensure our future food source in Northern California.
This is a great video. Take a few minutes and check out this slice of Pie. They do so much more there but this is an example of the program…
Their mission is to: “inspire and connect people to know the source of their food and to work together to bring greater health to the food system from the seed to the table”.
One of the products grown and milled at the farm is wheat. Hard red wheat that is very low in gluten, has excellent nutty flavor, and high protein. It is outstanding for pies and patries. I have never in my life had pie crust like this – so flavorful and flaky.
And if flaky pie crust isn’t enough for you, it does get better – we light up a fire in the enormous wood burning oven and bake all day and night in it. That’s right, quiche Lorraine out of a wood fired oven. Can you smell the smokey bacon & onions gently melting away into a farm fresh egg custard? Thomas Keller eat your heart out! Oh, and that’s Pie Ranch Bacon by the way. And Pie Ranch flour. Pie Ranch eggs. Pie Ranch goat milk. Pie ranch onions. You get the idea…
This experience was one of the highlights of this year. I am looking forward to more opportunities like this one.
Pie Ranch is very very RAW.
Ingredients
- Pâte Brisée:
- 1 cup Pie Ranch flour
- 1 stick unsalted butter
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 3 to 4 tablespoons ice water
- Custard:
- 4 eggs
- 1 cup whole milk
- ½ cup cream
- ½ teaspoon salt
- ¼ teaspoon black pepper
- pinch of nutmeg
- Filling Options (each can be added separately or together):
- 1 bunch kale, cut into strips and sautéed briefly
- ¼ cup parmesan cheese
- 1/3 cup chèvre (goat cheese) crumbled
- ¼ gruyere cheese shredded
- 1 yellow onion, thinly sliced & sautéed
- 2 strips of bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces, sautéed until crisp
- 1 bunch steamed broccoli
Preheat oven to 425˚F.
Prepare pie shell: In a large mixing bowl combine flour and cubed butter. With both hands press the flour and butter together as if counting money until the mixture resembles small peas.
Pour the cold water over and with one hand continue to mix the dough pressing it against the bowl until it comes together.
Shape into a disk, wrap in saran-wrap, rest and refrigerate for 10 minutes.
Take dough out of refrigerator and roll ¼-inch thick. Place in pie tin and prick the dough with a fork. This will help trapped steam escape. Blind bake, preferably with baking beans or weights, for 10 minutes. Take the piecrust out and add filling of choice to the shell then the custard egg filling:
Blend the custard filling on high in a blender until frothy. Place pie shell back in oven and carefully pour custard into pie shell over dry ingredients.
Lower temperature to 375˚F and bake for 35 minutes or until the center of the quiche is just set.
What a fantastic organisation to be involved with. Impressed and jealous!
I can’t even begin to say how great Pie Ranch is. I wish that they could replicate themselves around the country because I think it really helps communities and kids to think about food and where it comes from and also to enforce healthly eating habits during a time when most schools serve fast food for lunch. Public schools take the lowest bid on food contracts – sad but true. This was fun for me. I’m wiped out, but wow, what a great experience!
You get the strangest comments on this new site I’ve ever seen! I made the mistake of ticking the “notify me of follow-up comments” last time. I don’t think some of those commenters even read the essay about the crab boil, and I’m pretty sure the commenter above me didn’t read this one, and the one before that seems to have only skimmed to the bottom to leave a gibberish comment. I wouldn’t click on the links in those comments for love nor money.
Now, on to one who DID read the essay AND watch the video: This looks like a great program, especially for inner-city kids who don’t really see crops growing around them. Before I became disabled I wanted to start a program for kids here that would have involved creating a garden and then teaching them healthy, flavorful ways to cook the food they grew.
I wanted to use the empty lot where my great-grandfather’s blacksmith’s shop used to be because it is within walking distance of all four of my small town’s schools. It has good morning and afternoon light and the only tree is a huge, old valley oak tree that was there when the shop was there. It would have provided a little shade in the after school hours for all the weeding, hoeing, mulching, vine training and other garden tasks before the evening drip line irrigation. (We would have had to irrigate that way to keep from killing the old oak tree.)
It would have given the kids something to do in the summer when school is out, too, since gardens are most productive then. I could even have offered classes in more involved things like making jelly or canning tomatoes and peaches for the older kids. After all, the high school home ec room is just six mini home-style kitchens sitting there empty all summer.
Ultimately, I was hoping to teach them that there is a unique sort of pride and honor associated with feeding people good, healthy food– from growing it, to harvesting it, to packing it, to cooking and serving it. Up here in farm country many of the kids’ parents work in farming, packing and processing. It would do those kids a lot of good to know that someone out there appreciates the hard work their parents do for very little money in most cases.
But, alas, my body didn’t cooperate, as usual with me. Disability (or the pain associated with it) is a real dream killer.
I know! I’m back from my European vacation now and dealing with amazing amounts of spam like never before! Yikes! Just uploaded a new plug-in that should help…
CaliChef – That is a beautiful vision. I’m starting a new program in Pescadero with Puente that is an Edible Afterschool Program with students from the area that are, for the most part, low income. It’s a very rural area with out a lot of after school activities and the commute to even get to a dance class or a karate class would be about 30 minutes away which is far for parents after a long day of work. I hope to bring some of my passion for food & teaching to the community. I love teaching kids. Adults, sometimes, kids, all the time.
I’m sorry about the pain. This is not a profession (as you know all too well) that is easy with any sort of disability. This work takes so much out of the body…
Sorry for the late response, but I didn’t think to come look for the comment until the latest entry came up. More on that on the next page.
I was staring 40 in the eye when I fell in a hole full of chickweed. I thought it was solid ground, but it was a little lower than anticipated and not at all level and I broke my ankle. As an actual working-behind-the-stove chef in a one-woman kitchen, 40 is a hard age to be. It’s very physically demanding, as you know well, and let’s face it, working/cooking chefs have a shelf life. Jet-setting executive chefs, or even executive chefs with an actual CREW, have it pretty easy by comparison– at least physically. Mentally, I’m sure, it’s still a grind.
While I was still on disability I ran into a local restaurateur who offered me the executive chef’s position at a new place he was going to open in a year. It was a block away from my home in a historical building. He wasn’t raised here (it’s a pretty insular community) and he wanted someone who would be a sort of local ambassador, I think. Businesses owned by people who didn’t grow up here tend to close pretty quickly.
After my ankle healed I went back to work at the gun club and gave notice that I wouldn’t be back the next season because of the new situation. However, we were planning to have a private dining room and that I would be more than happy to cook their wild game or poultry if they would like.
In the meantime my limp got worse. The restaurant got stalled, first by code requirements and then by the senior citizen apartments that were slated for the upstairs half of the building. A new location was found and couple of years passed. As I waited I got more and more depressed and just felt myself getting weaker by the day, no matter what I did to try not to lose ground. By the time the place was ready to open I physically couldn’t do the work of opening a new restaurant anymore. That, my friend, is how dreams die.
I’m really glad that you are so physically fit and more, that you actually enjoy it. It will save you my fate. Working out has ALWAYS been something I have had to force.
P.S. I’ll tick the button for notification now that you are back. 😉
I was wondering why you weren’t still cookin over the fire because I know your heart is in it still and I love your stories. The physical aspect to the job is beyond demanding and it’s hard to explain to people outside the restaurant world unless they’ve actually lived or dated a chef or cook. I’ve had a lot of issues surrounding it. The cuts and burns notwithstanding, the adrenal fatigue is crippling. After the last ten years of pushing, pushing, pushing I’ve got to the point that I almost can’t get out of bed without an adrenaline rush. Sleepless nights from adrenaline coupled with pure exhaustion equals bad relationships, health, and wellbeing. This year I’m focusing on moderation and trying to reverse the poisonous and powerful side effects of cortisol. I’m trying to find the balance. I’m trying to create a new career in which I can do every thing I love to do but also have a life/love outside the kitchen.
It’s not enough to me anymore just to be a chef in the kitchen. I want more. When I teach cooking to young adults it feels like the missing puzzle piece and it makes the career more meaningful to me. My dream is shifting from being a restaurant chef to wanting to be part of a community in a deeper way while still bringing great food to the table…hopefully I’ll have a new story in this line to write about soon ;-))
Much love
Amy, my dear friend, I am the poster child for the damage cortisol can do– gigantic gut and all. The only symptom I don’t have is high blood pressure. Let me put it this way: I can easily fit in a pair of size 14 jeans– as long as I don’t try to zip them up. Once I have to accommodate The Blob my jeans size jumps up to a 22 or even a 24 sometimes. It’s pretty hard to find clothes when your waist is six sizes bigger than your hips and four sizes bigger than your bust. I was always a little disproportionate, even as a child, but after the misery of my teen years it got worse. When I got divorced shortly after having my son by cesarean in my early 20s it just exploded. Add in job stress, health worries, financial worries, single parenting issues, relationships doomed to failure and a couple of endoscopic abdominal surgeries, et voila, massive gut. In a society where a woman’s value is set inversely to her waist size, well, you can probably imagine how painful it has been, emotionally as well as physically.
I really found solace in my own kitchen where nobody cared about my waist as long as what went to the table was delicious. I didn’t even mind when my club nickname became “Kitchen Bitch.” I told the managing partner that it was a compliment because it just meant that I was a strong woman who didn’t take any crap, and he agreed. Men are called “demanding,” or it is said that they don’t “gladly suffer fools.” Women get “bitch.” I can live with that, but I might say, “That’s CHEF bitch to you!”
I just wish I could find a really old-school place that wanted a REAL hostess. By “REAL” hostess I mean a mature woman, not some over-dressed, empty-headed high school cheerleader who doesn’t know what you’re talking about when you say “Please show our guests to the four-top.”
I remember the elegant, mature hostesses that all the really nice places had when I was a kid. They always dressed in evening gowns like they were just stopping in on their way to the opera or perhaps the Getty’s cocktail party. I guess they were a sort of female maître d’. They ran those dining rooms with an iron fist in a velvet glove. They never raised their honeyed voices but those servers (male and female) were already in the air (without even asking how high) when those lovely ladies in up-dos whispered “jump.” That is what I’d really like to do now that I’m almost in my dotage. Albeit, with either a slightly more casual work wardrobe or a BIG clothing allowance. I already wear my hair up as a matter of habit. 😉 My classmates in culinary school didn’t call me the Hair Nazi for nothing!
I’d love to get together with you and your new mate sometime. Perhaps a Hog Island oyster feast in the early fall when bay area weather is really nice? Or maybe I’ll just come to you. I’ve never been to the beachy areas south of Daly City and north of San Luis Obispo. I hear there is a resto down there that serves the best cioppino anywhere and a place that makes fabulous artichoke soup, and I’m sure you know those places well. Or, perhaps you guys would like to come up somewhere near me. While I am not a runner, there are many great hiking trails, Table Mountain, the Sutter Buttes, a waterfall, a covered bridge, the best olive oil producer in California and a lot of gorgeous, natural scenery. I only wish I had a guest room to offer, but with four people, (only two of whom share a room,) two cats and three dogs in a small two bedroom house we are stacked in here like cord wood so it’s just not possible.
I don’t do much “Facebooking,” but I will email you my Facebook info and hope to see a friend request soon.
OK, I searched all over the site and I can’t find an email address anywhere so I shall have to leave it up to you to send me an email. Sorry. I tried.