"Now, for the rules of this culinary competition, our chefs will have a total of three hours to make their dishes. However, at each hour, they will be required to submit a dish for the judges to rate. That means they have one hour to prepare the appetizer, two hours to prepare the main entree, and three hours for the dessert. Our chefs have prepared their own ingredients for this competition, but they also have fully stocked pantries and fridges with any last-minute supplies they might need. Now with introductions out of the way, let's get this show started, chef's light up your grills, your time starts now!"
--[Ramon POV]--
"Your time starts now!"
I was already moving by the time the large digital clock hanging above the judges' table lit up and began to count down from our allotted time.
The pressure was on, but I felt my hours of practice kick in, guiding my hands before my mind could interfere and mess up my tempo.
Reaching under the stove, I pulled out a heavy sauté pan and a stock pot, with the former going on the center burner, which I turned to low. The stock pot stayed with me as I carried it over to the sink and began filling it with water.
Knowing it would take at least a minute, I used the time to run over to the fridge and pantry to gather my ingredients. Already knowing where everything was, I stepped away a second later with garlic, shallots, a bottle of very high-quality olive oil, a bottle of similar quality balsamic vinegar, a block of Parmesan cheese, and a cluster of cherry tomatoes.
I set everything down on the wooden counter before stepping back over to the sink, and turning off the faucet just as the stock pot reached three-quarters full. Lifting the pot, I carried it back over to the stove and set it down before turning the burner on high.
Leaving the water to boil, I returned to the countertop and began preparing my ingredients. Grabbing a head of garlic, I broke it apart with a firm press of my heel, then discarded the papery skin and collected the precious cloves, loaded with flavor.
Grabbing my chef's knife, I somewhat ironically used the flat of the blade to crack open each clove, saving me precious time from having to peel each one individually. It was a crude method that left the actual garlic fractured, but that didn't matter, as I began to mince all the cloves into an almost paste-like consistency. Gathering the garlic on my knife, I scraped the pungent stuff into a small ramikin that I set aside.
Next came the shallots, but I took a quick second to pour a generous glug of olive oil into the saute pan, which started to bubble after only a few seconds.
But by then, I was already moving onto the shallots, which I treated with far more care than the garlic. I cut off the roots before gingerly peeling off the outer skin, exposing the light violet flesh.
Gripping the shallot with my left hand, I folded over my finger tips as I lined my knife up with the back of my fingers. I let out a single breath before my right hand turned into a blur as I finely chopped the shallot, producing thin, almost see-through wafers no thicker than my fingernail.
"And would you just look at those knife skills!"
I looked up just as my knife came to rest and found Lois standing in front of me, a camera capturing both of us in the frame. "Now tell us, Ramon, what do you plan to do with all those shallots?"
"Well, let me show you," I replied, mostly as an excuse to keep myself moving. Grabbing the ramkin of minced garlic, I scooped out the paste and threw it into the pan of simmering oil, volatizing the aromatic compounds and filling the air with the unmistakable scent.
I gave the oil a quick stir before throwing in the shallots, making sure each slice landed flat against the pan, "Now the garlic and shallots are going to infuse the oil with a lot of flavor, especially the shallots as the sugars break down and caramelize, which is when you start to see that nice golden brown color build up on the bottom."
"Very nice, but the oil isn't the final product, is it?" Lois asked in her best excited reporter's voice.
"Nope, that honor goes to these beauties right here," I said, matching Lois' tone as I gently patted the large cluster of cherry tomatoes, "After these are cleaned up and de-vined, they'll go right in this pan for over thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes won't they burn after that long?"
I shook my head, "Not if I keep the heat nice and low."
"Well, I'll trust your expertise and leave you to it," Lois remarked, wrapping up her mini interview and thankfully leaving me to my work.
Grabbing a paring knife, I did as I'd detailed to Lois, cutting the tomatoes off the vine and removing the small bit of core left behind that wouldn't cook down. The process was somewhat tedious, but something I had taken deliberate care to practice, so it wasn't long before I placed a lid on the saute pan with the tomatoes inside. With the main component of my appetizer done, I could move on to preparing my entree.
The oven was turned on to pre-heat while potatoes, carrots, celery, onions, and more garlic, all hit the countertop with a thud, along with three cans of tomato puree, a tube of tomato paste, and an assortment of herbs.
The potatoes were the first to feel the razor-sharp edge of my knife as I roughly chopped the russets into quarters before throwing them into the now boiling pot of water.
Carrot, celery, and onions met a similar fate and were added to a separate pan with a pot of oil to cook down and sweat, forming a holy trinity used in countless cuisines across the world and for good reason. But I added a little extra to the trio in the form of garlic to round out the sugars present in the carrots and onions.
'It doesn't get much better than that.'
When the onions turned translucent and the carrots browned, I turned down the heat and poured in my cans of tomato puree along with the entire tube of paste. Before long the whole pot was simmering and bubbling but it wasn't done yet, not until I tossed three pieces of a chuck roast, a spring of rosemary and thyme each. I then covered the pot and placed it into the oven to slow cook and render.
As I stood up from closing the oven a buzzer went off and I looked over at the clock to see that forty minutes had passed since the start of the competition.
"And that is your first warning chef's, you have twenty minutes before your first dish is due for presentation."
Switching gears with the announcement I moved to finish my appetizer, getting out a baking sheet that I lined with paper before grabbing a cheese grater and the block of parmesan from earlier.
In quick succession I filled the baking sheet with several piles of grated cheese spacing them out and gingerly coaxing them into an oval shape before throwing the pan into the oven.
Setting a mental timer I moved onto the star of the show and lifted the cover on my cherry tomatoes only to be smacked in the face by a fragrant wave of steam,'Time for the big reveal.'
Waving aside the smoke screen I grinned when I saw the perfectly cooked tomatoes with the skin blistered and drastically reduced in size after all the water inside had been cooked off. The shallots had crisped up as well fully infusing the oil with their flavors.
Taking a fork I used the back of the tines to gently mash the tomatoes revealing that the slow caramlization process had turned them into a jam like consistency perfect for spreading on bread, specifically an italian baguette that I sliced up and toasted.
Another buzzer went off.
"Five minutes remaining."
'Down to the very last second…just like I practiced.'
Reaching into the oven I pulled out the now parmesan crips and began assembling my first dish. With three judges I made three plates, each one getting two slices of toast topped with a parmesan crips, slathered in the tomato jam and then finished off with a drizzle of balsamic vinaigrette.
"One minute remaining."
Picking up the plates I walked over the judges table with a calm but confident stride all while internally screaming at myself not to drop the plates.