It's 7.30pm on a Thursday night and I'm signed up for the first cooking class of my thirtysomething years.

Cooking up a storm

After confirming our registration, we slip on the requisite red aprons and are offered a glass of wine. It's not immediately clear who among the more than a dozen people scurrying around is the teacher, and there are no formal introductions, but we walk around glasses in hand and inspect the premises. A charming woman comes round with a tray offering bone marrow on toast, and although I politely decline the first time the next time the tray comes my way I feel pressured to try one. It's not that bad, if you don't think about what you're eating.

Our teacher turns out to be Virginie, an effervescent and enthusiastic devotee of French and Belgian cuisine. Though she doesn't work as a professional chef, preferring not to sacrifice time with her family, there's no doubt about her passion for and expertise in cooking. After we all wash our hands like doctors before surgery, we're ready for action.

There are four dishes on tonight's menu, which differs slightly from the one we signed up for: boeuf à la ficelle, blanquette de veau, cheese soufflé and the very poetic-sounding oeufs à la neige - all to be made within the next two hours (which easily expand into three)! This is no ''Ready Steady Cook'', the BBC TV show where chefs get only 20 minutes to whip up a feast from a few simple ingredients.

At Mmmmh!, we all get our own personal recipe book to consult during the evening and then take home. The 10-page, typed booklet even includes recipes not on tonight's menu, like beef salad, bone marrow on toast and a brief introduction to Parisian cuisine.

Tonight's recipes are also neatly posted at the four cooking stations in the room, which seem to be well equipped with all the ingredients and kitchen implements needed for the evening.

We split into two groups, and are ready to get to work. Virginie flits between groups so it's hard to follow what she's doing all the time, but it helps that some people have been to classes here before; they know their way around the place, while the rest look a bit like lost sheep.

Chopping spree

First thing we learn is a new way to chop vegetables; we're told to cut carrots into three parts, then take each piece, cut it in half, and do a kind of diamond-shaped trim. Sound easy? Not at all! Even harder are the mushrooms, which we're supposed to sculpt into pretty floral-like structures. I'm suddenly filled with jealousy at those who produce shrooms as if it's something they do every day.

Though I've separated eggs a million times, doing so in a public forum can be scary.
Stop! Stop!'' Virgine exclaims when a yolk plops into the whites, immediately clearing away the bowl and putting down a clean one; only whites will do for the soufflé. Mais oui! Is there a psychologist in the house who can treat egg-separation anxiety? Freud eggs are definitely on tonight's menu!

Above all else, chaos reigns in this kitchen, where no one takes charge and orders you around.  This isn't a bad thing; shouldn't cooking be fun and not work? But a little more organisation wouldn't hurt for the EUR 55 price.

A well-made oeuf a la neige is hard to beat

The evening's best productions are the cheese soufflés, made with grated gruyère, both of which seem to turn out exactly as they should. ''The second one's cheesier,'' my husband says, of course favouring the one made by our group. It's also probably the only thing from this evening that we would actually serve to guests - fun as it was to watch the 1.5-kilo piece of meat for the boeuf à a ficelle dangling on strings from a wooden spoon in a pot of simmering broth. Fortunately the broth was prepared ahead of class; otherwise, we'd have had to wait about four hours!

The finished product is served with two kinds of mustard. The sliced pieces of meat are nice and tender, and the mustards just the right accompaniment, but I don't think I'd spend four hours in the kitchen on this meal. The blanquette de veau turns out to be a standard veal vegetable stew – again, not terribly exciting, but you definitely can't get more traditional, down-home French cuisine than that.

After a couple of hours in class exhaustion takes over. But you'd be a fool to leave before dessert: poached egg whites swimming in crème anglaise and topped with caramel sauce – made from melting 10 sugar cubes and a bit of water. No cholesterol-watching tonight!

My spouse and I – who certainly know our way around the kitchen - leave the class a bit frustrated, but amused. Though we didn't get that much hands-on experience, we did enjoy ourselves, and maybe next time we throw a dinner party we'll knock their socks off with that cheese soufflé – but definitely no sculpted mushrooms.

We also learned some important practical lessons, like what to how to measure sugar and butter by teaspoons and tablespoons. Did you know that 1 tablespoon equals 15 grams of powdered sugar and 5 grams of grated cheese? Impressive! We also discover that you can't make caramel crowns to go over desserts with just any kind of ladle; at least Virginie could joke about her failed attempts. She certainly puts on a good show.

Perhaps it's only fitting that on the way home we pass a news kiosk with a photograph of Pierre Wynants, owner and head chef at Michelin three-star restaurant Comme Chez Soi. We may never make it to his league, but next time we see boeuf à la ficelle on a menu we'll know exactly how it's made.

Whether you fear the kitchen or feel completely at home, taking a class at Mmmmh! can be a fun experience, though the sheer chaos can be a bit frustrating to those who actually want to learn something or get real hands-on experience.

I'm in no rush to go back for more, but I don't regret the experience. It's a unique way to spend an evening, work on your French and get fed - and you may even make a new friend or two.

More Information

For information about catering schools in Belgium, contact one of the branches of the Federation of Hotels, Catering and Restaurants (HORECA): Brussels, 02 513 7814; Flanders, 02 513 6484; Wallonia, 081 72 18 88. www.horeca.be.

Agastache & Tonka at rue Royale 290 in St. Josse offers cooking and wine courses at your place or theirs Call Nicola Perini, 02 229 3232. www.resto.be/agastacheettonka.

For information on Mmmmh!, Chaussée de Charleroi 20, call Jean-Patrick Scheepers at 0477 5818 08. www.mmmmh.be. Besides evening cooking classes they also offer a ''day with a chef,'' wine-tasting courses or tailor-made events for private or corporate groups.

If you come across any other cooking classes we should know about, please let us know!

May 2004

[Copyright Expatica 2004]

Subject: Belgium, cooking classes, food