The bosses of the CIA
Cooking is very simple: "Tempo, tempo, zack, zack and please do not be hectic, but everyone understands!", Laughs Lynne Gigliotti, 43. She claps her hands. 36 feet are under her guidance between stove and work surface, water basin and oven, refrigerator and sink back and forth. The feet hit the hook when someone comes in, and then reinsert into orbit. "Getting around in a school kitchen is a science in itself," groans one of the 18 cooking students, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The kitchen number 27 is tight. Long steps are forbidden if you want to avoid collisions. So it is tripped and hopped.
Gigliotti wears a white chef's jacket, like everyone else in the room. However, with a yellow and a green band on the collar. Because she is a lecturer. At the Culinary Institute of America, called: CIA? not to be confused with the Central Intelligence Agency, the United States Foreign Intelligence Service. Gigliotti has even completed this school as one of the best. She then worked as a chef in Atlanta before returning to the Culinary Institute as an instructor.
In the classroom no. 27 of the Culinary Institute of America, 18 cooks and cooks have to fight for their place. Professional cooking is always hard work.
That this sounds military is no coincidence. When it was founded in 1946, the CIA was a kind of veteran school. Soldiers returning from World War II were sent here by the Department of Defense to receive sound vocational training. Some peculiarities from this time have remained. For example, the uniform-style chef jackets with the rank insignia, which of course have to be ironed and clinically pure. Men have shaved fresh to appear and short hair to wear. And long fingernails are just as taboo as nail polish or jewelry. Behind every sentence the students direct to the instructors is the word "Chef" (for chef): "Yes, Chef", "No, Chef". Even weekend courses, which the CIA offers for interested laymen, are called "boot camp", as in the military. Barbecue Boot Camp, Healthy Cooking Boot Camp, Big Flavors Boot Camp. They keep discipline at the CIA.
The CIA cooking school in Hyde Park, New York is considered an elite school
A young woman with a round face is tripping over. Gigliotti's stern look softens for a moment. "Those there," she says softly, "who can become a great one, she has the perfect blend of serenity, curiosity and aptitude." The Promised is about 20 years old, does not look at all strained, but laughs. She usually does that, no matter what the hustle and bustle. Her name is Hannah Loudin, from Boulder, Colorado, and is currently trading scampi for pineapple with a colleague. The two prepare a Caribbean appetizer, with avocado, scampi, rum, pineapple and lemon. Later, the classmates in the cafeteria will taste the menu.
Hannah is in her first year of education, has three more to go and will eventually pay about $ 80,000 in tuition. "Well, rather my parents," she adds and pulls her shoulders up to apology. "They also call every other day and want recipes from me." They would probably give her a little something at home. They have every reason to do so. Because the Culinary Institute of America, two hours' drive north of the city of New York, is just one of over 400 cooking schools in the US. But the only one who enjoys the reputation of an elite school. The degree is simply called "Bachelor of Professional Studies".
Nothing is left to chance.
But behind this modesty hides an institute with an annual budget of $ 110 million. 125 teachers from 16 nations work together with 2800 students. There are 41 pilot kitchens and hi-tech lecture theaters and a library that is considered the largest culinary library in the US. The huge campus has its own fitness center and five CIA-operated restaurants that are fully booked for months. 250,000 tourists visit annually, the school is simply legendary in the USA. Anyone who is admitted here has the best career conditions. Students take four compulsory courses: cooking, baking, nutrition and gastro-management. And they choose from a sheer endless range of their advanced courses: from soul food to table culture, from meat storage to enology, from stress management to sauce preparation.
Of course, an 18-month internship in a high-end kitchen is part of it. There are enough places.After all, the institute has more than 37,000 ex-students, including celebrities such as bestselling author and celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain ("Confessions of a Chef") and Walter Scheib, formerly "Chef" at the White House. According to Food & Wine Magazine, the CIA has produced seven of the top ten chefs in the US.
Old outside, high tech inside
The school is located on a hill above the town of Hyde Park, in the wooded valley flows the Hudson River leisurely towards New York. The building, a former Jesuit seminary dating back to 1901, has aged outwardly in dignity. And on the cutting edge of technology. That fits. Because in the CIA, you want to convey both: Tradition care and experimentation, the high school and the American Everythinggoes method, Italian elegance and relaxed "California Cuisine".
Also theory belongs to the cooking school.
Room number 27 teaches the "Cuisine of America," the three-week course is called. Admittedly, that's a bit short for a whole continent, says Gigliotti, but it's just an advanced course. And with a grin, she adds ironically, "We're superficial, that's what you Europeans expect from us Americans, is not it?" Today is the Caribbean, yesterday it was Mexico, Brazil and Argentina coming in the next few days, then the United States of America. Lynne Gigliotti goes into her small office, which is connected to the kitchen, and brings a blue book. There are recipes in it, curricula and contributions to the geography. "If we had nothing to say about what's going on beyond the meal, students could go through a cookbook," she explains. "We tell the whole story." And that includes the culture of the country whose cuisine you want to get to know. "If you do not know how a recipe came about, you can not work with it."
Hannah Loudin listened with one ear. That's what she finds so good at the Culinary Institute, she'll say later, "Enthusiasm for details and a view of the big picture". She cuts fruit now small, and you can see that she still lacks the routine. She says, "Fruit is not necessarily what I'm used to at home." That's surprisingly honest. In fact, many who meet here would claim the opposite, Hannah says. She grimaces and wiggles her head as she imitates the accentuated manner of the classmates: "Well, I grew up with good food, and then it just turned out to make me cook." She says, "Okay." And then after a pause: "They can not tell me something like that." The negation is emphasized: "Not me." At any rate, her grandma meant a sandwich when she used the word "menu". "And I'm not an isolated case!"
Talent of the cooking school: Hannah Loudin
The Culinary Institute will only accept applicants who have six months of experience in a kitchen? in a kitchen that uses fresh ingredients. Therefore, the students already understand something of their craft. Even if they did not meet at home. That's not all a good cook needs. Basic knowledge in history, math, foreign languages, hygiene, commodities, biology, chemistry and ethics are equally important. Ethics? Gigliotti brings a worn book from the shelf. It's about sustainability. "Most people here are in their early 20s," she says, "they have not seen much, and some seriously believe that meat is growing in the supermarket." But not for long. "We teach her to get to the bottom of things." Because as a chef you have responsibility, especially when you train.
"Not everything you can eat should be eaten," says Lynne Gigliotti. "Species that are threatened are not processed here, I love swordfish, but it is overfished and therefore completely taboo." Hannah Loudin nods in agreement and adds, "One does not patronize us here, it's just to understand the context." Gigliotti is happy about the compliment? and immediately averts it: "Well, of course, I do not know what those on the other side of the Atlantic think, I suspect that in France everyone only smiles when they hear our name." Jeff Levine, press officer of the CIA, comes up. Oh yes, the French. He does not love the subject. CIA students come from 16 nations, mostly from Asia, he says. But Europeans are only a few. They usually did their apprenticeship in a restaurant. "And we almost never have students from France." French cooking is seen by many in the US as the measure of all things. It hurts to be ignored.
When a Guide Michelin for New York City first appeared three years ago, the French chose the Big Apple as their city? second best food of the planet. Behind Paris. The New York press, apparently inexperienced in dealing with the French worldview, responded offended. While the New York Post mocked the pomp of a car tire maker, the New York Sun wrote that New Yorkers did not need a fussy Frenchman to tell them where to eat.
Lynne Gigliotti smiles. She also values French cuisine more than French arrogance. "But actually it should be something else when cooking," she says. Not rivalries, but team spirit. Lone fighters would not get far in a kitchen. Loudin assists: "There is no room for egos here." But that does not mean that there is no competition. Two-thirds of the students at the CIA are men? as with all educations that promised good job prospects. Occasionally, Loudin says, let her feel that as a woman she belongs to a minority. Sometimes she wanted to break off. But the career lures. CIA graduates, whether male or female, are so sought after that they do not even have to apply. On average, each student receives three quotes for one chief post. Twice a year, companies come to campus to introduce themselves (!). And to which candidate does Hannah wish to show her favor after graduation? "Phew," she says. And then: "I'll take a break first." She will be able to afford it.
Info: to the homepage of the Culinary Institute of America
