Lior Lev Sercarz is spice blender to the stars – star chefs, that is. From Eric Ripert to Michelle Bernstein, Paul Kahan and Apollonia Poilâne, his roster of clients is a veritable “who’s who” of culinary innovators. Even those chefs who know how to blend their own spices agree: Sercarz just does it better.

Lior teaches a recreational student how to prepare chocolate pots de creme.

Sercarz’s culinary education started early, as a young boy in Israel. His is not a romantic story of techniques and recipes handed down from his elders, but rather one of practical cooking. His mother worked late, and would leave behind ingredients for him to prepare dinner for his younger siblings. As years passed, and his family lived and traveled throughout Europe, Lior’s exceptional palate was honed by the wide range of cuisines and cultures he encountered.

Lior teaches a student how to segment a grapefruit for a fluke crudo dish.

At the age of 19, Sercarz joined the Israeli army, where he was charged with kitchen duty. It was there that he learned the simple but indispensable purpose of “food as satisfaction.” Upon leaving the army, he traveled throughout South America, and there discovered his interest in uncovering the source of food traditions. The spice trade, in particular, sparked his curiosity, because of the relative lack of industrialization in the creation of spices. His appreciation for these hand-harvested products only grew during his time at the Institut Paul Bocuse in Lyon, France, most especially during a culinary externship under the wing of Olivier Roellinger, a three-star Michelin chef renown for his rare knowledge of seasoning and spice blending techniques. From there, Sercarz moved on to New York’s Daniel, where he experimented with blends and eventually built an extensive spice rack, inspiring his current business, La Boîte á Epice.

For each of his 41 signature spice blends (plus 30 additional blends exclusively available to chefs), Sercarz seeks not to imitate a particular flavor, but rather to evoke a sense memory of a particular place. His “Cancale”, for example, is named for the town where he trained with Roellinger and features the region’s signature fleur de sel, as well as orange peel and fennel seeds from the plants that grow on Brittany’s cliffs.

A recreational student seasons raw tuna with Sercarz’s Salvador spice blend.

ICE recreational students had the pleasure of discovering twelve of Sercarz’s multi-sensory spices, including Cancale, in a cooking class that celebrated the release of Sercarz’s first cookbook, The Art of Blending. Like his spices, this book evokes an emotional response from its reader, with vivid pictures and anecdotes that span the world’s many flavors and cultures. Select chefs from Sercarz’s bevy of celebrity clients contributed recipes featuring each of his signature blends, from soups to sweets, smoked fish and even cocktails.

Sercarz himself is a highly skilled chef, and orchestrated the impressive production of fourteen different dishes that night. Yet his instruction was far from heavy-handed. As he explained to the class, he does not care how people choose to use his spices. He respects the creativity of the individual, and how they choose to interact with his blends. That said, the impetus to publish this cookbook originated with the frequent requests for recipe suggestions from his non-chef clients. Yet he believes that the cookbook also stands alone, regardless of whether or not an individual owns each of the spice blends included in the recipes.

Cocktails spiced with Sercarz’s Borneo blend.

It was in sitting down to enjoy our spiced feast that we were able to most appreciate Sercarz’s unique perspective. He diagnosed a certain ignorance in our treatment of spices, explaining that they are products like meat or vegetables. There is seasonality, labor and a variance in quality. His blends range from 9 to 23 ingredients, and can take as little as one day, or as long as six months, to create. Each blend is approached with a meticulous attention to detail that demonstrates a deep understanding of his raw ingredients. From the selection of salt, to heat, to more unusual flavors, no decision goes unweighed, infusing Sercarz’s products with an incomparable complexity. His spice blends are truly a pleasure to work with – for all the five senses.

Fluke crudo, eggplan relish, ratatouille pizzas and other dishes, all garnished with Sercarz’s signature spices.

Our first chef instructor was a man of clear distinction and significance. His list of accolades, accomplishments and credentials was longer than the length of my right arm (which is significantly longer than my left).

He commanded the kitchen when he first walked in. He demanded respect and he deserved it. He was able to rattle off recipes for French mother sauces and their derivatives without stopping to take a breath. I’m convinced without a doubt that of the hundreds of sauces in the French repertoire, he had committed most to memory. Never once in my 22 lessons under his tutelage, did he ever consult a recipe. They were all living as imbedded templates in his head.

He started working in a kitchen when he was 15. Now, 40+ years later, still working in the food services industry, and having worked in some of the finest food establishments on the planet to date, I have had the exceptional pleasure and the most intense pain of being his student.

The word ‘CHEF’ translates to ‘BOSS’ or ‘CHIEF’.  Yes, the capital letters are absolutely necessary. And they remain necessary for all the chef instructors we’ve had over the last eight months. There was a definite philosophy in their kitchen. There was only one way; THEIR way (capitals continue to be necessary). Learn it right, learn it well, listen and don’t forget.

Fast-forward eight months. Our original class of seventeen has dwindled to fourteen. We have just graduated. Our externships take us to many diverse kitchens, but the same rules apply. The collective and sage advice of all our chef instructors is behind us. Now what? I continue to ask my self “WHAT NOW?”

This will be a messy split; a bad break-up. What will become of my weekends without ICE? What will become of my classmates? Who will I commiserate with about the heat in the kitchen, the number of pots in the sink, the paper I have to get done despite my full-time work schedule or the next practical or written examination? What will become of Class CA2DW.121011? What now…what now?

As of August 19, 2012, I will have washed my hands for the last time in kitchen 1402. We’re all a little uncertain. We’re all a little scared. It’s our turn to do something great with this culinary training. We’ve all come so far.

In order to be truly appreciated, all brilliant things must come to an end. So I’ll say a bittersweet goodbye to the class of CA2DW.121011, but not forever, just for now, and leave off with wise words that have remained with me for quite some time. “When you walk to the edge of the light, and take that first step into the darkness of the unknown, you must believe one of two things will happen; there will be something solid for you to stand on, or you will learn how to fly.”[1]

Chef Dan Stone’s “French Country Kitchen” class is every bit as enchanting and delicious as it sounds. I went into this class hoping that my nine years of French language studies might somehow offset my lack of culinary skills – however, Chef Dan would quickly ease any fears or doubts I had about my ability to cook a French dish. His expertise, patience and calm demeanor eliminated everyone’s concerns about executing tricky classical French recipes – he supplemented his focus on technique with demos to get everyone cooking (chopping/sautéing/baking) in the right direction.

First up was a simple demo: How to correctly measure flour.  Chef Dan explained that one perfect cup of flour equals 4.25 ounces, but this is contingent on the methodology used to measure the flour. For instance, by sticking a dry measuring cup into a bag of flour and scooping (as I always have), you inadvertently pack the flour into the cup. Instead, Chef Dan recommends using a spoon to scoop flour into the measuring cup and then scraping any excess off the top with a knife. This is to help ensure the accuracy of measuring and the tastiness of recipes – in my case, this technique enabled the pastry shell of my quiche Lorraine to be light, flaky and not oversaturated with flour. Voila!

Chef Dan then provided a brief historical overview about the use of potatoes in French cuisine; he explained that for quite some years after Colombus and his crew brought tomatoes and potatoes to Europe, people thought they were poisonous and refused to eat them. In France, this was until an army pharmacist Antoine-Augustin Parmentier was captured by Prussians and forced to eat potatoes. During this time he came to recognize all the high-calorie nutrients the vegetable provided and when he returned to France he focused on introducing the vegetable as a viable source of food instead of just mere hog feed. In 1772, the Paris Faculty of Medicine declared potatoes edible, and Parmentier was credited with help making this happen.

My Aunt Julie participated in the class with me, and we volunteered to tackle the quiche and dessert, while the other half of our group chopped, chopped and chopped their way to an incredible French country veggie soup.

The task of creating a perfect quiche Lorraine involved an incredible amount of patience and technique – the pastry shell alone was very intricate and required careful execution. Lucky for me, my Aunt has a more extensive cooking background (and all the patience necessary to prepare such a dish!) One of the most interesting steps to me was the “frissage,” an old technique wherein you take the palm of your hand and quickly spread out small sections of the dough to give it a light, flaky texture. It is very important not to overwork the dough because then it will lose its light flakiness. It seems so simple and insignificant, but this step really is critical in crafting a scrumptious quiche as it spreads the chunks of butter into thin sheets within the dough, evenly distributing for a light flaky crisp.

I may be a biased critic, but my favorite dishes were absolutely the soupe au pistou and the quiche Lorraine – the soup was so fresh and tasty; despite the fact that it used only water as a base and had minimal salt. Instead, spices like cumin and cayenne were used, and lots of fresh veggies to infuse it with flavor. On top was a freshly baked crouton and a dollop of fresh pistou – parfait! But truly, all the dishes were fantastic. French Country Cooking was truly a delectable blast to the past – after all the hard work that goes into every scrumptious dish, it’s no wonder Chef Dan said, “If I was given the opportunity to choose my last dinner, it would absolutely be French.”

Bon appétit and merci Chef Dan – wonderful class and wonderful food!

Ever wonder what’s cooking at ICE? Five Course Friday gives you a snapshot of what we are whipping up weekly. Whether you pop in to a recreational class, catch a professional demo or watch the transformation from student to chef, there is something scrumptious happening daily.

Soufflés d’Alencon en Timbales (cheese souffles in mushroom sauce)

Rabbit braised with prosciutto red onions and white wine, served with sautéed broccoli rabe 

Cotes de Porc Normande from French cooking course in culinary arts program

Focused on frosting this week in pastry and baking classes

Chocolate bar with color splash from pastry and baking class

Have a delicious weekend!

As important as culinary innovation may be, it is also important to recognize the classic desserts that place such new ideas in context. Michael Laiskonis, creative director at ICE held a class on Friday where iconic dishes were studied, deconstructed and rearranged with new flavor combinations and presentations as homage to the original.

The recipes included Tarte Tropezienne, Paris-Brest, Saint-Honoré, Financier, and Crème Brulée. The four hour class was action packed with students mixing, baking, tasting and plating. To see more classes from Michael Laiskonis, check out our schedule and see below for some eye candy from Friday’s class. Enjoy!

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This week, students had the opportunity to cook with Master Chocolatier and Executive Pastry Chef, Jean Marie Auboine as part of the Center for Advanced Pastry Studies (CAPS) series here at ICE. This is an ongoing program of continuing education courses for working pastry and baking professionals taught by visiting chefs and pastry artists from around the world.

Auboine’s shop is based in Las Vegas, though he teaches and consults all over the world. For some background, he was a finalist Meilleur Ouvrier de France Chocolatier 2007, named “Best Chef of the Year” from Mexico’s Vatel Club in 2008, won 5^th place in the 2005 World Chocolate Masters and he was named “Best Pastry Chef of the Year” by France’s respected Champèrard Guide in 2003. His mastery in chocolate at the 2005 American Chocolate Masters secured him a first-place victory and an invitation to participate in the World Chocolate Masters in Paris, where he earned the competition’s coveted Press Award.

Thrilled to work with such a renowned pastry chef, the students learned unique techniques ranging from sugar pulling to achieving temperatures for perfected caramel. They made an assortment of delicious treats such as praline paste, chocolate bars, soft salty caramels, flavored marshmallows, gummy worms and sugar candies. When discussing what they learned over the course, the students were all in agreement that learning the science behind sugar was the most fascinating.  As was learning from the French!

Check out some of their work: More…

I’ve been feeling the strawberry love this summer, eating them as much as possible and in every sort of combination, always coming back to my favorite: a big old bowl of greenmarket babies with some real whipped cream. Sadly, it seems that they are already moving on to make way for the heartier berries, peaches and cherries, and with my severe allergy to stone fruit, I find that I’m left longing. Even the organic ones at Whole Foods look as if they have been left to dehydrate in the summer heat. Strawberries are one of those rare fruit exceptions that I allow to possess me despite my devotion to all things chocolate.

So I was deliciously surprised to find a most excellent strawberry treat at Paris Baguette, a high-end Korean bakery in midtown. Green tea cake layered with strawberries and whipped cream — as soon as I saw it I knew it would be mine. Having spent lots of time traveling Asia as a classical musician, I was already an expert on the classic hot dog wrapped in the equivalent of a potato roll and I’ve definitely eaten my fair share of coconut cream buns in Chinatown, but this place was on a different level. When I walked in I was greeted with the typical Asian bakery-style display of help-yourself buns and simple pastries. There was variation upon variation of cream cheese–filled goodies, buns, and brioche. I got as many as I could fit on my tray. They also had what was called soft cake, and I got one in strawberry. It looked like a strawberry cake mix and I knew my elder child would be all over it. I wanted to get one of their fun flavored baguettes but apparently I was much too late as there was not a single one left. More…

As I tend to be a bit obsessive-compulsive about things, I recently found myself possessed with the idea of getting to Paris after learning about a bakery that specializes in what is the equivalent of a French version of the Hostess snowball. It was all I could think about.

To curb the insanity, I find myself trying to recreate the experience. I made and ate those French snowballs every day for two weeks until I couldn’t stand them anymore. I needed a fix, and bad. So when I heard about this new French pastry shop that had opened downtown, well I knew it was on my to-do list. Cooler bag in hand, I made my way to Mille-feuille Bakery. It is a tiny sliver of a shop in the Lupa neighborhood, hardly where one would expect to find perfect French pastries. When you walk in the first thing you will notice is the incredibly heady smell of butter, real butter, not the fake popcorn butter smell that perfumes the Food Emporium bakery at 8:30 am on any given morning. The display of available pastries is very small but just a few feet from you is Chef Olivier in his kitchen, preparing whatever deliciousness is at hand. Now, I’m a bit of a cleanliness freak, so I can appreciate seeing exactly how my food is prepared (again, the obsessive-compulsive in me comes out). More…