Do you feel your cooking skills could benefit from a little
professional tuition? Perhaps your soufflés fall flat, your fish looks
battered or your dinner parties turn into a dog’s dinner? Well help is
at hand in the Gallic shape of Nic Rascle.
Nic’s idea is simple. He comes to you to give a cooking master class but the clever bit is that you invite people round to sample the results. It could be a small soiree for four or a full blown meal for twenty, Nic will help you make it work. To test the plan I challenged Nic to come around to my house and work with my wife Pauline to create a special evening and he readily agreed.
Nic is no stranger to london-eating. For nine months he was the man who ran the canteen for the massive 70’s building we rented space in. Each lunchtime he and his team produced a range of meals to satisfy every taste of the four hundred plus people inside; from the simple to the exotic. The only thing we regretted about leaving that building for our new bespoke space in Clerkenwell was leaving Nic and his food. Soon after we left Nic, who is a classically trained chef, decided to leave too. He didn’t want to go back to the late night grind of working in a restaurant, although with his impressive CV which includes stints in top French restaurants, he could have landed a job easily. Instead he came up with the concept of ‘Nic Rascle in your kitchen’.
It all begins with Nic popping round for a chat. He came to our house and
eyed up our less than enormous kitchen, tried our remarkably blunt knives
and totted
up our collection of disparate pots and pans. We apologised profusely but
the Nic, who was always so charming, cheerful and positive in the canteen,
hadn’t
changed a bit. ‘No problem, no problem!’ is his battle cry, along
with ‘No stress!’ He knows what can and can’t be done and
has infinite faith in his pupils.
Pauline and he decided that as our table would only seat four we should go for a buffet. ‘Eight people?’ I suggested tentatively. ‘No, no, eighteen, twenty. It’s no problem,’ he replied and the idea he came up with was for a tapas meal. ‘Perhaps ten dishes, maybe fifteen,’ he continued. ‘It’s up to you.’
A few days later he emails a menu. Loads of items, including Paella, Albondigas,
Calamaris Rellenos, (Squid stuffed with mince pork), Chorizo and spinach,
Tortilla, Dorada a la sal (Sea bream in salt crust) ensalada mixta, Stuffed
and grilled
jalopinos, roasted vegetables, a boned and stuffed chicken and Cream
catalana (Spanish crème Brulée). Can we do this in our kitchen? ‘Yes.
Yes. It’s no problem,’ he reassures us. Oh well, you’re the
chef.
The next day Nic emails the ingredient list for us to buy, but takes care of the fish himself, going to Billingsgate market at 3am. ‘It’s not a patch on the Paris fish market, ‘ he ruefully informs us, ‘ but it has what we need.’
Come the Saturday and Nic turns up at 1pm carrying his case of knives and a very heavy bag of fresh fish. He nips upstairs to put on his ‘whites’. ‘Once I am in uniform,’ he informs us, ‘it is all business. So let’s go!’ Pauline is immediately set to work prepping – peeling scores of garlics, peeling and chopping vegetables and pulling beards off of mussels. Nic is over her shoulder, advising and giving away cheffy secret short cuts and other useful tips. I sneak away and leave them to it.
When I next pop my head in the kitchen, it’s all go, Dishes are lined up in various stages of preparation, the oven is going full blast and our cat is firm friends with Nic who occasionally flips a tasty tidbit into his bowl. The stuffed chicken is a bit of a tour de force and so, armed with two chickens, Nic shows Pauline how to ballontine (basically open a chicken and remove every single bone). It’s not easy but Pauline shadows Nic’s every move and because he is such a patient and inspirational teacher it gets done. His, chicken being neater, of course, is to be the one that gets stuffed with a hearty mixture of mushrooms and pork then, stitched and roasted. Pauline’s is broken up for the paella. Two fat sea bream are cleaned and stuffed with masses of herbs and lemon then buried under rock salt ready to be baked. The crème catalana mixture suddenly curdles on the stove, but as we despair Nic leaps in with yet another cheffy trick and saves the day.
As the hour for the guest’s arrival approaches, Pauline is allowed to
leave the kitchen to get changed and I get roped in to stuff chilis with goat’s
cheese. A tricky task that has me getting cheese just about everywhere but
in the chilis. Nic is still cheery and out the in the garden, where snow is
falling gently, the prepared foods are stacking up under cover. This low temperature
is very handy as our fridge door will barely close because of the amount of
stuff now inside it and the garden makes handy storage.
Then, as always seems to be the case with parties, time suddenly speeds up. From no one to everyone arriving. Cava is served, then loads of Spanish wine and dishes are being cooked and appearing out of the kitchen in a never ending stream. Nic is in charge, Pauline is allowed time with guests then summoned back to help out again. This is, after all a lesson. Nic is not ‘catering’. The food, when I can fight my way to get some, is brilliant. The stuffed chicken is particularly popular and the paella excellent. The stuffed squid are pretty as a picture and the baked fish in salt a real theatrical dish.
As the crème catalana is served Nic is finally persuaded to leave the kitchen and come and have a drink. His work is done and soon after he leaves, his giant box of knives under his arm. All that’s left for us, when the last guest leaves at 2am, is the washing up. That’s my job I suppose, Pauline has more than done her bit. ‘Was it worth it?’ I ask her. ‘Oh yes. Great fun and I’ve learned so much. I want to do it again, now I really feel I’m capable. Nic really gives you confidence in yourself and I never knew you could do so much with a small kitchen.’
You can get Nic Rascle in your kitchen, visit his website www.nicrascle.com.
