Lucas et Le Pot Magique (French Edition)

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Quotes delayed at least 15 minutes. Market data provided by Interactive Data. All rights reserved. Powered and implemented by Interactive Data Managed Solutions. EU Data Subject Requests. Skip to Content. Tech Disney. Facebook Twitter Linkedin. For more about Star Wars, watch this Fortune video:. Chris Morris. The early repertoire on which I prided myself included such gastronomic delights as tuna noodle casserole, English muffin pizzas, and a mean tasty spaghetti sauce that we ended up eating quite often. I was befriended there by an activist mother of a fellow thespian in the high school drama club, of which I was a member.

My new friend had graduated from the renown Bennington College and she was co-owner of the revered Bennington Pottery. Apparently she liked my energy, and one day came to me with an offer to work at a new small restaurant that she was opening in the pottery courtyard to be called The Brasserie. She said she needed a dishwasher and someone to help with kitchen prep for a famous chef who was coming up from New York City.

The logo for the restaurant was a cross section of a hard cooked egg with its yellow yolk and upside-down egg shape, lines much in keeping with the clean design of Bennington pottery. I was grateful for the recognition from Gloria and intrigued by the idea of becoming involved in the fun world of a restaurant and working with very cool Bennington College gals also enlisted by Gloria.

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I took the job. I had never heard of this chef from New York. I was told she had a sister who taught at Benn College and a young son who lived in the area. Well known to many, she had operated several successful restaurants in New York City and now wanted to semi-retire in Vermont to be close to her son and her sister.

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The college waitresses from Bennington and and the friendly men who came from nearby Williams College to tend bar took it on themselves to educate me about the prestigious cooking school and how our new boss, Dione Lucas, broke through the glass ceiling by becoming the first woman graduate of the centuries old school which had been dominated by men since its inception. When you enter the room, you have a sheath hold your finest knives tucked under you arm.

You are impeccably clean and dressed in cooks whites and hat yes-the height of the hat states the rank of the cook ; your exam room larder is stocked well; no preparations can be made ahead of time. Usually one would have to prepare three different courses in a given period of time. Each course is very detailed and must be perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned, and perfectly presented.

The critics can be very cruel. But then—that just means that you should continue instruction classes and more time in the general practise students actually preparing and cooking. There were also written parts to the examination: termes de cuisine, ingredient identification and names of equipment.

I stood outside of the small restaurant, peering through the window which looked into her kitchen. Gloria introduced me to Dione Lucas. She had a charming demeanor and seemed genuinely pleased that reinforcements had arrived. There was a mountain of pots and pans and copper and whisks. She pointed out that she likes Lemon Joy dish detergent and that I should use lots of it.

I had no clue that my life was about to be changed forever. Dione Lucas was the consummate teacher and believed that everyone in a restaurant operation should be involved in some capacity with food preparation. My first chores were to tidy up the pots and cooking equipment and to polish some of her exquisite copperware to hang on the walls.

She had a collection of stock pots, saute pans, and beautifully intricate molds that I envy not having to this day. I was soon shown how to carve the breast meat, or supremes, off the bones of chicken; whip cream in one of her large copper bowls; stuff escargots; properly use a knife like a little saw to remove the skins off of pineapples and citrus. I was an apprentice and there to learn.


Dione dee-oh-nee was born in Italy and raised in France. It was the most exclusive order in France until The sumptuous banquets accompanying their award ceremonies became legendary. It contributed to the codification of French Cuisine and, in essence, established some of the guiding principles of Le Cordon Bleu: hands on teaching, top quality chefs from the food industry, and the best ingredients and techniques combined with vibrant informative demonstrations. Following the success of the publication, Le Cordon Bleu officially opened its doors as a culinary school in Paris in The cooking classes were an immediate success.

Her talents were acknowledged and rewarded by an unprecedented and successful petition to Chef Pellaprat to open an extension of the historic school in London, along with another graduate by the name of Rosemary Hume. Long before Julia Child came onto the scene to bring the joys of French cooking into the homes of America, Dione Lucas had laid the groundwork. From the time I first started working with her, Dione would spend hours in her small office in the rear of the restaurant after the last customer had left, writing out recipes from her memory on a yellow legal tablet that would later be compiled into the last of many cookbooks that she authored, The Dione Lucas Book of French Cooking.

I was given it as a present in Many of the pages are stained by splattered sauce or chocolate, which I believe is the sign of a much used and loved cookbook.

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  • I remember going to her just before Christmas for a suggestion of a nice meal that I could prepare as a surprise Christmas dinner for my family. She hand wrote out a divine recipe for small individual game birds to be served with savory orange potatoes. Somewhere in the archives, I still have it.

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    She could bark orders and did so one day when Gloria brought in her elderly housekeeper to help out on a busy shift. She makes me ner-r-r-rvous! She bestowed on me an education of immeasurable value. It was at her urging that I packed up and shipped off to Paris and Europe to attend classes at the Cordon Bleu. She taught me that the proper preparation and appreciation of good food is not unlike an artist who paints, or one who sculpts.

    Transforming raw ingredients into a finished product, knowing that my fingers and my skill were responsible for this creation, gave me a tremendous sense of satisfaction. She was an inspiration and mentor to many great cooks who came after, including James Beard and Julia Child. Her famous cooking schools and three world tours in which she taught the Art of Good Food and how to prepare French cooking spawned the awakening of the American palate.

    The Cordon Bleu has expanded with schools in many countries, and there are now countless excellent institutions for students to be taught the Art of Cooking. There are many delicious recipes that were taught to me by Dione, which I have prepared over and over through the years.

    In her last restaurant in New York before moving to Vermont, called The Gingerman, a window was installed so that patrons could watch her in action. She carried with her a set of small pans used exclusively for this purpose and were never washed. They were perfectly seasoned and food never stuck in them. Wonderful fillings such as bacon, onion, and potato slow cooked together that she called Bonne Femme, or sauteed chicken livers made these dishes into complete, nutritious meals.

    Heat the salt butter in a heavy pan and saute vegetables over high heat for 2 minutes. Add water, salt, and pepper and bring very slowly to a boil. Cut up the sweet butter and put it into the mixture. Put a lid on the pan and cook over low heat until the vegetables are soft. Add remaining cress and stalks to potato mixture. Puree the mixture in a processor or blender. Careful with hot liquids Add the milk and reserved leaves. In a bowl, whisk the yolks with the sherry and stir in the cooled scalded cream. Ladle a little of the hot soup into the yolk mixture to temper it, then pour it all into the soup pot.

    Do not let the soup boil. On my first day there, I hurried myself to the school expecting to register. The two women behind the desk pretended not to speak English and my French was fractured. I told them that I had been communicating with them for months, but in my haste of packing had forgotten to bring the letters. I said I was here to enroll in the class sessions which were to begin the following week. My world flashed before my eyes as I went to find my college buddy from the University of Vermont who had come with me. I sat there stunned and told him what had happened. No sooner had I said it all when I felt a little heat under my collar and stood up, turned about face, and marched back into the school.

    Taken aback, the French lady was at a loss for words. We may be able to fit you in. As it turned out, the pastry course was the prize of my whole schooling. The Cordon Bleu had fallen on hard times with the death of the last great chef. It was quite a disappointment when I discovered that the menus we were to learn repeated every other week. By the end of the six month general cooking course, I approached both the pastry chef and the cooking chef to ask their advice on my idea of requesting to take the final exam for the Grand Diplome- the coveted certificate of a Cordon Bleu chef.