Day 73 - The Finer Points of Salad Dressing

I awoke this morning knowing my fate but not willing to meet it. I had told myself when I went to bed last night that I would get up slightly earlier than usual so that I could do some last minute cramming before the wine exam and thus scrape the 60% required to pass. Accordingly, I woke at 6:30, looked at the clock and then went back to sleep. My body however was determined and woke me again at 7:00 so that I could have a quick flick through the wine book before the exam started at 8:00. I looked at my watch, turned over and went back to sleep. Eventually (having been determined) I got out of bed at 7:47: I can wake up on time, but getting up is a different matter, particularly when there is only an exam to look forward to.

I think that it is unlikely that I will be receiving first prize for my efforts (a first prize which is, I might add, sponsored by Bollinger), but hopefully I won't fail miserably either. I managed to correctly guess the difference between Pouilly Fume and Pouilly Fuisee and identify a good wine to serve with goat's cheese (Sancerre); hopefully some of my guesses will turn out to be right, otherwise I may be in big trouble, though. As is fairly usual with exams, when I handed in my paper and left the room I came across a large gathering of people anxiously discussing what answer they put for certain questions. I went over and joined in (because what else are exams for if not for working one's self up into a frenzy over a single mark?), occasionally making a comment, occasionally worrying people by declaring confidently that I had put a different answer to theirs. Ha ha ha.

We were given a short break after the exam before trooping back into the demonstration room for the last theory day of the course (...sniff...). So what would this last hurrah of a lecture be on? A difficult, obscure and impressive branch of cooking? How to decorate a wedding cake, perhaps; or possibly how to scream violently without damaging one's vocal cords unnecessarily in the process? No. Salads.

We had a guest speaker who's name was Barny and who spent a very long time showing us different salads, and it was universally fascinating. None of the salads were green - I don't believe that he used a leaf of lettuce anywhere - and none of them were designed as accompaniments to the 'main' dish: they were the dish. Salads of chickpeas, of chicken, of duck and of fruits abounded and in between he explained why they tasted good and why they were better than other foods. You would have been amazed, astonished and veritably astounded by the simple varieties of flavour, colour and texture that were achieved by putting cold ingredients together on a plate.

And then came lunch - salad.

Happily, Darina brought out a roast haunch of venison (from God knows where) which improved my lunch ever so slightly.

About a week ago, a piece of paper came around during the afternoon demo inviting us to list recipes that we would like to see demonstrated before we go. Students suggested things as far apart as rice pudding and vegetable soup. On the back row, we were feeling bored and slightly subversive, so when the paper got to us, we put down Roast Grouse as a suggestion. A friend sitting next to me put down toast. After lunch today Darina intended to show us how to make some of these requests and on the list of recipes I was somewhat astounded to see grouse: she had only included the recipe and wasn't going to cook it, but I still found it immensely amusing that we had been taken seriously. The recipe (if you are at all interested) runs to several lines, but the basic gist of it is: take one grouse and place it in the oven. Serves one. Toast was unfortunately not included - a pity I felt, as I had been having difficulty with toasting bread recently: it's something to do with the way that you turn the dial on the toaster.

After our request session we trooped off to Ballymaloe house for a tour of the hotel and tea. We were given a talk by Myrtle Allen who told us how she got started and what had gone into the restaurant over the years - it was fascinating, even though I am terrified of the idea of cooking in a restaurant. I can see how she has become a role-model for so many chefs over the years. The whole occasion reached new heights when the gooseberry tartlets and tea were brought out and we all left feeling thoroughly full (and inspired).

The final (and optional) lecture of the day was a visit by a local gamekeeper who had brought with him examples of the different types of game that could be found in Ireland. He also showed us how to skin rabbits - a surprisingly simple if ever so slightly gory procedure.

Thus ended the venerable institution of the theory day. I mourn its passing with much solemnity and gravity. May its memory be blessed and may it, in due course, be inflicted upon the next lot of hapless students who come through these doors naively expecting this course to be easy...