When most people think about the Sunshine Coast images of sun, surf, golden sands and the need for sunblock probably spring to mind. I'd take a bet that cutting up a raw chook doesn't come into the equation at all — but it probably should. That was the position I found myself in after checking in at Spicers Tamarind — a luxury retreat in the Hinterlands, about 45 minutes from the coast.
I was one of about 10 people who were in Spicers' popular French cooking class and our chef, Philipp Kerkow, was in need of volunteers to help with the preparation for petite blanquette de poulet a l'estragon. The dish sounded flash and I knew from the get-go that I'd never be able to pronounce it properly but I was keen to master it and impress guests in the near future.
Apparently the key is in the preparation so that's where we started — prepping two chooks. Philipp started by calling for volunteers, suggesting it might be one for the men in the class. One older man jumped forward, clearly a pro with a knife.
A second slowly shuffled forward and needed a few goes at cutting through the bone. But, when it came time for someone to help with the second chook there were no volunteers. It was at that stage everyone looked at the ground, ceiling and each other — everywhere other than Phillipp — I figured I'd give it a go. It was only a bird, after all. With a bit of guidance I worked my way through the chicken, cutting the bird into eight sections — a highlight coming when I looked up at my fellow chefs-in-training and saw the looks on many of their faces — anyone would think I was murdering the thing. It was only a bird and a dead one at that.
