My Favorite Class at Harvard

They say that one sign of a good cook is being a good eater. By that measure, I should be a very good cook. Instead, I'm a hack in the kitchen. Every meal I make starts with a package of boneless, skinless chicken breasts or a box of pasta (or both). One summer I got my roommate sick by cooking week-old chicken. I learned all I know about cooking from "The Frugal Gourmet" and "Great Chefs" on TV. (Those were the bad old days before Emeril and the Food Network.)

Which is why I jumped at the chance to enroll in Executive Chef Michael Miller's cooking class for graduating seniors, "Cooking for the Culinarily Challenged." Taught in five two-hour sessions scattered over two weeks, the class starts with the utter basics-meet the appliances in your kitchen-and ends with an afternoon cooking with a guest chef.

Miller is an excellent teacher; he explains kitchen basics in just the right amount of detail without making us feel that we're being talked down to. (The only slow lesson was the second one, on going shopping, which was at times reminiscent of an elementary school nutrition class.) The course answers all the questions you never bothered to ask, and then some. How long will those chicken breasts last in the fridge? Use the four-day rule for all protein-based foods. What's the best way to peel ginger? With a spoon. Don't know the difference between bass, cod, salmon and mahi-mahi? You'll cook them all.

The emphasis in the kitchen is on experimentation, and indeed Mike discourages you from shackling yourself to the recipe. (Perhaps this explains why the Friday clam chowder seems so inconsistent from House to House.) Yes, some of our attempts at stir-fry ended up as clumps of carbon stuck to the skillet, and most of our "omelets" looked more like bad scrambled eggs. But most of learned something, if only how to cut a wide variety of vegetables.

The best part of every lesson was the end, when we "evaluated" our day's work. (A piece of advice for future students in the course: don't eat dinner before class.) Of course, the best-tasting items would be the ones we team-cooked with Mike. The sheer amount of food we cooked was enormous-I have enough leftovers in the fridge to feed certain small republics. If only every class at Harvard were this enjoyable...

For the budding chefs and restaurateurs out there, don't hold your breath-this ain't culinary school. But for the 95 percent of us out there planning to get by on Pop Tarts and mac-and-cheese after graduation, it's a step towards survival. At $25, the course is a bargain. You get a tote bag of promo goodies, including a comprehensive beginner's cookbook (Lora Brody's The Kitchen Survival Guide), a meat thermometer, a can opener and an apron (no chef is complete without an apron). Unfortunately for current seniors, the remaining sessions are full.

But Miller says he hopes to make the class available to more seniors in coming years. Finally, the class furthered my belief that Dining Services is the by far most innovative organ in the University, and is certainly the most attentive to student needs. Dining Services has added student-friendly programs like Crimson Cash, visiting chef dinners, "fly-by" lunches and continual changes to the menu (thank goodness the occurrence of "Asian food" has now dropped to once every 10 or so dinners).

Plus, Mike's semi-annual tour of the Houses for face-to-face feedback shows that Dining Services cares. When was the last time you saw Dean of the College Harry R. Lewis '68 making the rounds of the dining halls? (At least Radcliffe President Linda S. Wilson has picked up on the idea.) Perhaps other Harvard administrators can extract a lesson from something the folks at 65-67 Winthrop St. seem to have discovered long ago: While there's only so much you can do to make the food taste better, there are other ways to keep the students happy.

Andrew S. Chang '99 is a neurobiology concentrator in Kirkland House. His column appears on alternate Wednesdays.