By Tucker Berta Sarkisian, @tuckerberta
I can’t be certain how I discovered Zoom cooking classes at Charleston Academy of Domestic Pursuits. (Yes, that’s the real name and yes, it’s fabulous!) It was during “Covid Times” for sure. Likely on a day where I’d exceeded my steps goal of 10,000 by about an additional 14,000, and my dog was refusing to leave the sofa yet again. I’d probably already watched a go-to movie (The Help) or show (The West Wing). And no one was on House Party (remember that stage of the pandemic?).
So I probably took to the Instagram. I clicked on a gorgeous photo of a perfectly set table or plate of food that no Uber Eats could conjure, and set off down a rabbit hole. It probably lead me to @charlestonacademy. And praise Leslie Jordan, I’m so glad I found it.
The post du jour was for Carbs 101. It was a new series of Zoom cooking classes offered by the school’s dean, Suzanne Pollak. Because what-the-hell-else-was-I-doing, I googled Miss Pollak and discovered a fascinating person.
She was raised in Africa, daughter of a CIA agent, has since lived everywhere, seemed to land in Charleston because (like me) she craves a gracious life filled with joy, food, cocktails, beauty, and mostly, community. She’s the author of Entertaining for Dummies, and co-wrote Pat Conroy’s eponymous cookbook. She hosts an open-to-all Zoom every Wednesday for happy hour, “Sip with Suzanne,” complete with a tune from “the world’s best trombonist” Wycliffe Gordon. She’s Slim Keith chic. Seems to have dated either Hall or Oates.
I mean, I’m buying whatever she’s selling.
Immediately, I signed up for the newsletter and registered for the entire Carbs 101 semester, which included Biscuits, Pasta, Challah, and Pies. I was beyond excited—not just about the content, but because the Zoom cooking classes weren’t simply “watch and learn.” I would be cooking alongside other attendees under Suzanne’s tutelage (closest thing I’d come to an “event” in weeks).
A couple days before Biscuits class, I received an email from Suzanne with my ingredients list, and a little note about why her biscuits should really be called “criscuits”:
“The first time I tasted a croissant, visiting Europe from Africa, my head spun! I fell in love for life. I’d never tasted anything as light and airy as a croissant. However, as love affairs tend to do, I became a prisoner. I skipped school for two days and made croissants. I promise, if you are learning to bake croissants, even now, you are planning to open a French bakery. They are so hard it’s unbelievable. There is a great probability they will turn into hockey pucks.
Biscuits will not. I never had a biscuit until I moved South. My head spun once more. They are friendly, probably because they are not as sophisticated and as haughty as the elegant croissant. Croissants are the couture pastry. I took what I learned during my croissant cooking try and added that to biscuit making.”
-Suzanne
Mind you, heretofore my biscuit-making experience involved popping open that Pillsbury can with a spoon. Figuring this divine domestic dean would judge the you-know-what out of my equipment, I fired up the Amazon app and had brand new shiny biscuit cutters, a wooden rolling pin and silicone baking mats headed my way in no time. I masked up and hit Whole Foods with my list of ingredients, buying whatever looked like the best option.
Day of, I cleared my countertop and found the optimal set up for my laptop. Mind you again, Suzanne and my classmates would have full view of my kitchen and me during this Zoom, and like the profile of my face, my kitchen tremendously benefits from a flattering angle (the resolution: set it up high on top of a stack of cookbooks, upon my sterling storage chest, angled down).
There was zero need for the pomp. While the sneak peeks of Suzanne’s historic South of Broad charmer and other attendees’ kitchens (from Charleston to Manhattan to L.A.) were impressive, it was immediately clear that this wasn’t a stuffy group looking to one-up each other with their baking knowledge. Most everyone was in my Pillsbury-level experience boat. But we were all lovers of food and entertaining (dearly missing it), and we were all craving the same sense of community.
The most pleasant surprise was how much I loved this style of cooking class. It makes sense when you think about it: Of course you’re going to learn and retain more if you are cooking in your own kitchen, with your own tools. And having classmates asking the same questions you have. And having Suzanne preside over all by expertly instructing while also entertaining with stories of her worldly experiences. The end result: Not even kidding, the best biscuits I’ve ever had. As Suzanne described them, “a cross between a refined croissant and a plucky little biscuit with a can-do attitude.”
I’ve made them a half dozen times since taking my first Zoom cooking class, with equally impressive results. I’ve had them split open (never cut!) and slathered with butter and honey for breakfast. Another time, fresh herbs folded in and served with a gin martini. Once, layered with some strawberries and whipped cream for dessert.
Again, Suzanne with the wise words: “Friend to every meal and will even do appetizer duty if you only ask. The criscuit’s wide open smile stands ready to accommodate melted butter or ham and mustard. He just wants to be loved.”
The other Carbs 101 classes were just as delightful and successful, and I’ve since completed two additional semesters of Zoom cooking classes with Charleston Academy of Domestic Pursuits. My culinary skills have gone from “I could cook, but why when there are such incredible restaurants in Atlanta?” to “I could have this dinner catered, but why when I have x, y and z recipes that are so delicious?” And though I’ve always known my way around setting a table, I’m now an expert at four different napkin folds and have about a bazillion new uses for all my vessels and serving pieces (example: tiny florals in Beverly Bremer-procured sterling sherbet cups).
Another remarkable surprise: The friendships formed via these Zoom classes. Suzanne and I have somewhat regular phone chats, ranging from our favorite aprons (Heirloomed Collection) to forming an alumni group (it’s happening!). Students didn’t want classes to end even though quarantine did. You can sign up for the summer semester (all or individual) here: charlestonacademy.com
It’s a small but significant piece of my quarantine story. And while I certainly wouldn’t recommend another global pandemic (no, please and thank you), I am grateful for the lovely discovery of Charleston Academy of Domestic Pursuits.
Tucker Berta Sarkisian is a Georgia native (UGA and all) and lives in Ansley Park. She is enjoying her “second mountain” career in real estate, while also cultivating her love of cooking and entertaining.
Photo of Tucker by Sarah Wintherington
