Life in a vacuum

No, this isn't about living in Florida.

My job is a little different than a restaurant chef. In the course of my week, on a slow week, I make 35 different meals based on a client’s individual preference. Easy, right? Now add to the equation the questions of a) can the dish be frozen or refrigerated? b) will the dish stand up to reheating c) what kind of kitchen does the client have? and d) can I do 10-15 meals with a side in 3 ½ to four hours? In this, I’m always looking for new techniques that make my life easier and, more importantly, result in some kick-ass food. I finally had a chance to try a technique today that I’ve been curious about for a long time. Sous Vide. French for “under vacuum”.

This technique isn’t new, it dates back quite some time – possibly to post war France. It was devised as a means to prepare food in one location and serve it in another. Possible uses could be, say, preparing food in a restaurant kitchen and serving at a banquet on the beach. I first heard of it about 14 years ago, when the only people doing it were the French and those elitist nutjobs in NY.

I say “elitist nutjobs” in the sense of the time. Back then I was working on the west coast, and the east/west rivalry doesn’t only exist in the hip-hop world. These were the days before celebrity chefs - although names like Waters, Tower, and Trotter were well known, but mostly to those in the business. In fact, those of us who weren’t sweethearts of the media, who toiled away night after night to adoring crowds but to relative media anonymity, looked down their nose at those who were with a sneer (perhaps jealousy) and used the derisive term “glam chef” – as in “You don’t even cook anymore, you f*cking glam chef, poser.”

Whut, OK, I’m back. Anyway, I left the business for a while and found myself playing catch up when I got back in. Sous Vide is now so commonplace that you can probably find it in Iowa City. However, I missed those years and was eager to try it.

My Experiment

As the “vacuum” part implies, food is cooked in a vacuum, a seal-a-meal. The idea is to put a piece of protein in a vacuum package and cook the package in water under a controlled temperature. The vacuum, combined with seasonings on the meat, force the flavorings into the meat, resulting in a flavorful, tender piece of meat that cannot be over cooked because of the controlled temperature. In my case, I tried a plain, old boring chicken thigh.

I seasoned the thigh simply with fresh thyme, garlic, and salt and pepper. I sealed this using a Food Saver vacuum sealer. In a technique of cooking that is highly unnatural, direct heat is never applied to the food. I put a pan of water on the stove and brought it to 158 degrees. Why 158? Well, the recommended temperature for cooking a piece of chicken in this manner is 151 degrees, just enough to cook it. However, due to the force of the stove that I was using, at it’s lowest setting the coolest temperature I could attain was 158. So, anyway, at 158 degrees, I placed the bag in the water.

Here’s where the beauty of sous vide kicks in – by cooking the meat at this temperature, which goes no lower nor higher, you cannot over cook the meat. Over cooking comes with temperature, so if I put this into a pot of boiling water, sure, I would over cook the meat simply due to the ambient temperature of the pot, if I left it in too long. The meat would eventually reach a temperature of the water that surrounds it, which is way too much. However, at 158, the meat will never reach a temperature higher than 158, you following me? You can leave it in for days, and it will never over cook, because it’s not hot enough to over cook it. This is a stoner’s (or, like me, someone who’s easily distracted) dream. You can’t screw it up.

So anyway after 2 ½ hours in the 158-degree bath, I estimated the heat of the water had made its way to the center of my tiny chicken thigh. Proper experimentation process would probably dictate that I put a probe thermometer in the center of the meat to ensure accuracy of the 158-degree goal, but hey, I’m workin’ here. I don’t have time for such niceties and if, 28 years after I first set foot in a professional kitchen, I can’t judge the doneness of a piece of freakin’ chicken, I should get my ass out of the business.

The transformation was a bit on the strange side. Yup, there was a cooked piece of chicken, sitting in a vacuum sealed bag, but all of the juices that come out during the cooking process were surrounding the meat.

Now for the tasting… Will it be good, or will it be a freak show adventure into technique for technique’s sake……

Well, I can honestly say that the meat is incredibly tender, moist, and flavorful, thanks to the vacuum sealing and the pressure exerted forcing the flavoring into the meat. No weird texture, which was my biggest fear. It tastes exactly like a braised piece of chicken.

2 ½ hours for one braised chicken thigh? It’s good, but it ain’t that good.

This was an experiment in the technique’s most basic form. Expanding on the technique, I’ve read about chefs cooking a loin of lamb sous vide and then grilling or pan searing the meat for the Maillard carmelization. This sounds pretty interesting and stands some further investigation. Until then, I can only say that the results were good, but nothing deserving of it’s wide spread hype, and this might serve me well in my day to day work.