Skip to content
Food
Link copied to clipboard

Inquirer cooking classes expand to 5 Phila. schools

No one was more excited about cooking classes than Mark Ramirez, 10, one of the fifth graders at Bayard Taylor Elementary School in North Philadelphia, where we started lessons last week.

Maureen Fitzgerald sits down to eats with (left to right) Chanitza Sanchez, Yariel G. Fernandez, Mark Brown, Bianca Perez and Kareema Brown at  Bayard Taylor Elementary School in North Philadelphia, on Wednesday October 9, 2013. ( DAVID SWANSON / Staff Photographer )
Maureen Fitzgerald sits down to eats with (left to right) Chanitza Sanchez, Yariel G. Fernandez, Mark Brown, Bianca Perez and Kareema Brown at Bayard Taylor Elementary School in North Philadelphia, on Wednesday October 9, 2013. ( DAVID SWANSON / Staff Photographer )Read more

No one was more excited about cooking classes than Mark Ramirez, 10, one of the fifth graders at Bayard Taylor Elementary School in North Philadelphia, where we started lessons last week.

"I cook with my dad a lot," he said. "He's taught me all the basics."

His was the first hand to shoot up at every question. Who wants to read the recipe? Who wants to wash the vegetables. Who wants to chop the tomatoes? Mark was all in.

And he did watch closely as I demonstrated the most important first lesson: how to hold the knife, how to turn under the fingertips of your other hand, how to work slowly and carefully, so as not to cut a finger.

But in his eagerness to show off his skills, he was moving a little too quickly dicing those tomatoes. After a minute, he quietly spoke up.

"Uh-oh. I cut myself," he said, quite calmly, holding up a bleeding thumb.

"Ouch! Shoot! Are you OK?" I said, scanning the kitchen for something sterile with which to apply pressure. We washed the cut, determined it would not require stitches, and found clean tissues to stop the bleeding. A Band-Aid was retrieved and he was patched up.

"All chefs get cuts and burns," I told him. "It happens. Do you want someone else to finish the tomatoes?"

"No way," he said, incredulous that I would even ask. He took up his knife and proudly returned to his spot at the counter, like a sous chef on the line.

And our first crisis had passed.

The cooking space at Taylor, a public neighborhood school at Sixth and Randolph Streets, is not quite as warm and homey as the St. Martin De Porres convent kitchen where I taught cooking last spring. We are cooking in the cafeteria kitchen, an industrial space with tile walls and floors and bright fluorescent lights. But there's lots of stainless-steel counter space, a brand-new donated electric stove, and five enthusiastic students.

"Are you really coming every Wednesday?" said Kareema Brown, 11. "Next week too?"

"Do we get to keep the cookbooks?" said Yariel Fernandez, 10. "Can we take them home?"

I told them I'd be coming for 10 weeks and we'd be making easy, healthy dinners each time, dinners that I hoped they would, in turn, make for their families at home. So, yes, they could take home the binders of recipes.

For the first lesson we would be making quesadillas and gazpacho.

The students took turns reading the recipes aloud, and we were soon chopping vegetables. There were lots of willing hands, and, after our first casualty, everyone proceeded a bit more cautiously.

Yariel was a natural with the vegetable peeler, skinning the cucumber clean, then taking a spot on a cutting board to dice. Kareema had done a good job seeding and dicing the red pepper. And Bianca Perez, 11, and Chanitza Sánchez, 10, had mastered the measuring spoons, adding the olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper to a large mixing bowl for the gazpacho. Only the shallot remained to be chopped for the cold soup.

Chanitza took on the shallot, Bianca the onion, which we would need for the quesadillas, as I showed them how to peel, then chop. And soon the tears were flowing. Some of the other students feared another cut, but, no, it was just the sting of onion vapors.

"Whatever you do, Bianca, don't rub your eyes with your fingers," I told her.

In the confusion of the moment, most of the large chopped onion was swept into the large mixing bowl of gazpacho ingredients before I saw what was happening. The recipe called for the more gentle flavor of the shallot, but now the onion would have to do. We'd save what was left, and the shallot, for the quesadillas.

It was time to blend all the ingredients with the immersion blender, and I warned them to keep fingers away from the sharp revolving blade on the bottom. "A cut from these blades is not a Band-Aid cut," I told them, "It's a trip to the emergency room."

As I saw all of their eyes light up, I realized this had the appeal of a loud and powerful and dangerous power tool: "Can I go first?" . . . "I want a turn!"

They were jockeying for position. As they got the hang of it, they explained the process to each other. "You have to push down, when you see the stuff is blended, then move it to another spot," said Kareema. And the blender was passed around until the soup was mostly smooth.

"OK, now that goes in the fridge to chill and let the flavors blend, until we are ready to eat," I said.

Next we turned to the chicken quesadillas, and the chicken thighs that needed to be roasted in the oven. "Oh, thighs! said Mark, licking his lips. "I love thighs!"

Yariel and Bianca spread the boneless, skinless slabs on the baking sheet; they were sprinkled with salt and pepper and then popped into the oven.

Once we got the shallots, onions and peppers sautéing on the stove, I think the kids were really starting to feel like they were cooking, that this was actually going to come together. It didn't hurt that a lovely aroma filled our little space.

"Oh, that smells so good," said Bianca.

When the chicken looked done, I showed the kids how to test for doneness, comparing the feeling of resistance on the tip of their nose, with the middle of the chicken. Soon five little fingers were poking their noses and the chicken and all pronounced it done.

After the chicken cooled, it was sliced, we prepped the other ingredients and the assembly began. On one side of a flat tortilla, the kids put a layer of chicken, a spoonful of onions and peppers, a handful of fresh spinach, and a sprinkling of cheese, then folded the tortilla, put it on the baking sheet and back in the oven.

While the quesadillas cooked, the children buzzed around like elves, cleaning up the work space, and transforming it into a dinner table, setting it with plates, silverware, soup bowls, and water glasses.

As they ate, the reviews came in. The quesadillas were a rave, spinach and all. The gazpacho, not so much. Perhaps the shallot would have made a difference, but perhaps not. "It was too cold," said Bianca.

I asked the children to write down their thoughts, and it was a good start.

Bianca thought the spinach was going to taste "nasty" but it wasn't so bad. Kareema liked using the tools and the blender. "I even liked cleaning up. The food was good!" she wrote. Yariel thought the food was going to taste bad, "but it didn't."

Chanitza loved the quesadillas, but not the gazpacho - "too many vegetables," she wrote.

But Mark gave himself and his classmates the highest compliment of all: "The best part of cooking class was tasting it!"

Gazpacho

Makes 4-6 servingsEndTextStartText

6 tomatoes, chopped

1 medium cucumber, peeled and chopped

¼ red pepper, seeded and chopped

1 shallot, peeled and chopped

1 garlic clove, peeled and chopped

1/4 cup olive oil

21/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepperEndTextStartText

1. Combine everything in a large pot.

2. Blend with a hand blender, but leave just a few chunks of vegetables.

3. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until ready to eat.

Nutritional note: No cholesterol, high in iron, potassium, Vitamin A; very high in B6, Vitamin C.

- From the Vetri Foundation for Children

Per serving (based on 6): 111 calories, 2 grams protein, 8 grams carbohydrates, 4 grams sugar, 9 grams fat, no cholesterol, 105 milligrams sodium, 2 grams dietary fiber.

Chicken and Spinach Quesadilla

Makes 6 quesadillasEndTextStartText

1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs

Salt and pepper to taste

1 medium onion, sliced

1 medium pepper, seeded and sliced

Juice of one lime

Olive oil

4 cups baby spinach

4 ounces low-fat Monterey jack cheese, shredded (about ½ cup)

6 whole-wheat flour tortillas

Garnishes:  

Prepared salsa

Greek yogurtEndTextStartText

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

2. Season the chicken thighs with salt and pepper.

3. Roast in the oven for about 15 minutes or until 160 degrees.

4. While the chicken is cooking, toss the onions and peppers with olive oil and lime juice and sauté until soft.

5. In a mixing bowl, toss the spinach with 1 tablespoon olive oil.

6. Remove the chicken from the oven, and let cool slightly before slicing into thin strips.

7. Lay the tortillas out on a work space. On one half of a tortilla, layer the chicken, then add onions, peppers, spinach, then top with cheese.

8. Fold in half.

9. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes or until crispy.

10. Slice into quarters and garnish with salsa and Greek yogurt, if desired.

Nutritional note: Low in sugar, high in dietary fiber, very high in Vitamin A, very high in Vitamin B6, very high in Vitamin C

- Adapted from the Vetri Foundation

Per quesadilla: 230 calories, 11 grams fat (3 grams saturated fat, no trans fat) 53 mg cholesterol, 384 mg sodium, 14 g carbohydrates, 8 g dietary fiber, 2 g sugar.

Support the Cooking Classes

215-854-5744

www.inquirer.com/mydaughter