On the chopping block in front of the room was a selection of ribs, with pork, beef and lamb all there. Another secret of the Iron Chef competition is that the producers tell the contestants beforehand that they will be competing with one of five different possibilities for their secret ingredient. So it wasn't like we were walking in totally blind. We even knew who we'd be competing against, one of my culinary heroes, who specialized in Mediterranean food and had a spice palette similar to my own. It made my palms sweat, but I felt good about it.
"All right guys, huddle up," Shannon said. She used a lot of football analogies, her father played quarterback for Nebraska back in the seventies I think. "Okay, here's the plan. Pork ribs broken down into pulled pork for sliders, baby back beef ribs, a lamb crown roast, and pork bits pan roasted for a caramel on a pork fat ice cream. Smith, I want you making up our sauce. Hobards, you're on the crème anglaise and getting the fat off of some pork ribs. Aksoy, you're on the crown roast. Remember, we only have an hour, so you'll need to move your ass."
Moving my ass was an understatement. A crown rack of lamb usually took at least an hour alone to make, half of the time being prep and another half being cooking, before worrying about plating, presentation or side dishes. I'd have to shave time somewhere, that was for sure.
The timekeeper tapped his table, and Horst, who was playing our host and referee, nodded. "Ready? And go!"
"Bang the gong, we are on!" the timekeeper, a funny man who loved using cheesy lines from the original dub of the Japanese version, yelled. Ignoring him, I sprinted over to my station on the line and immediately started my mise en place, or preparations. In a professional kitchen, having everything in just the right place saved precious seconds later.
I tore through the Frenching of my lamb rack, where I shaved off the lower end of the rib to make it look like bare bone in a rapid pace, while Horst overlooked my work. "Keep going," he said, slipping out of his referee role to do some coaching. "Don't miss that silver skin just to save some seconds!"
I saved some time by using garlic paste rather than chopping fresh garlic, and had my rack in the oven by the thirty-five-minute mark. I immediately turned to Shannon, who was chopping away like a madwoman on her own dishes. "Chef! Station clear!"
"Good. Help Smith with his vegetables."
"Yes, Ma'am!" I immediately went over to help one of Alinea's best saucers with the vegetable prep for the other dishes. He told me what to do, and for the next ten minutes the only thing we focused on was working our way through potatoes, bell peppers, some radishes, turnips, and a pile of parsnips that I figured would be quick roasted and turned into a puree. With ten minutes to go, we were doing pretty well, I thought.
The last five minutes was total chaos, with all three assistants bringing things over to Shannon at full speed, either plating them as she ordered us, or turning the pots and pans over to her to plate. I got a dollop of hot parsnip puree splashed on my right hand, burning me, but I didn't stop until the timekeeper counted down the last seconds. As soon as the time was up, I ran over to the sink and stuck my hand under the cold water, soothing the already red section on the back of my hand. Shannon came over to check on me. "You okay?"
"Yes Chef," I replied, gritting my teeth. Burns were one of those things you learned to deal with in a professional kitchen, as much as you tried to minimize them. "Just got some parsnip on me."
Shannon nodded. "Sorry about that. I was getting a bit wild with my spoon there." It was nice of her to admit she had been the one who burned me. In all the hubbub, I didn't even know who it was. "Keep it there for five minutes, then we'll all sit down, taste and critique."
It was my favorite part of each practice, the tasting and critiquing. Whereas in the real show we'd have food critics and different TV personalities giving us points, in the practices we only had the four of us, Horst, and the timekeeper. Horst also rotated out, making sure we got different points of view on the food.
The first course was the sliders; which Shannon had done herself. Everyone agreed the pork was juicy, but there was some debate as to whether the sauce needed more spice or more vinegar. "It's going to come down to the judges, really," the timekeeper said. "Like, if you have Judy Joo or Curtis Stone up there, then you can really lay down the spice. On the other hand, if Amanda Freitag is up there, lay off the spice in favor of the vinegar. Total judgment call."
My course was up next, and I was happy that everyone praised my prep work. "The French cuts on this and the spice rub are perfect," Hobards, one of Alinea's pastry chefs said. "Great work."