The mock CAP baker's certificate exam
The next instalment in my life as an apprentice baker at the French INBP professional school. I’m now halfway through training and it’s still as exciting as ever, and exhausting – but maybe I’m just getting old, or both… Anyway, a few days ago we had to go through the mock CAP exam. A sort of trial run for the assault-course of the real thing that’ll we’ll be facing at the end of May.
21 K 4.4/5 (20 reviews)
Keywords for this post:BakerBakeryCapTestWhiteInbpLast modified on: May 1st 2018
The mock CAP baker's certificate exam
For weeks we had been revising the basics, but we already knew we’d be given a list of required items to make (bread, speciality breads and viennoiseries) and this lived up to expectations. We’d have to be in place by 6 am, raring to go, for half a day that would seem much longer.
It began with 30 minutes gathered round for the briefing, where we were given our “order” of what to produce: what types and how many of each. We then had to make all our calculations and, most importantly, organise a work schedule with timings and use of equipment. We all reached for our calculators and recipe files then set to work…
The order:
Traditional French bread:
- 9 x 550g slashed loaves
- 8 x 350g baguettes, including 4 zig-zag split loaves
- 12 x 80g rolls in 3 different shapes of own choice (I chose "tobacco pouch", "pistol" and "volcano")
- 4 x 400g large loaves, 2 round with own choice of slashed top, 2 long with 2 slashes
Wholemeal bread:
- 4 x 350g wholemeal loaves in 2 different shapes, round and long
Viennoiseries 1: Raised dough (milk dough this time)
- 6 x 80g "shuttles"
- 6 x 80g plaits (single line)
- 3 plaits (double line) "with remaining dough"
Viennoiseries 2: Raised flaky dough
- 12 pains au chocolat
- 12 croissants
- 12 pains au raisins
We needed to calculate weights, how long everything would take, dough proving time, kneading, weighing out and shaping. As well as all that, and most importantly, we had to organise ourselves to avoid having too much to do at some moments (the biggest challenge) or twiddling our thumbs at others.
Then it was time to take possession of our “tour” (the workstation with its wooden worktop that resembles a kind of baker’s workbench, as shown in the photo lower down). We installed ourselves in the “fournil” (oven area), got out all our tools and everything else we needed: scales, baking sheets, trays, cooling racks, etc. Each of us had our own kneading bowl, dough mixer and an allocated shelf in the oven – so no bottlenecks, which was very useful. One touching detail: the taller people had been allocated the higher shelves in the oven. No need to tell you which my shelf was out of the 4 levels…
At 7 am sharp, there was an announcement: “At one o’clock all your items must be cooked, turned out and presented artistically on your workstation”, and we were off.
It was all systems go and a total hush descended on the “fournil”. We were all hard at it, with no time for joking, in an atmosphere of intense concentration. There were no great anxieties either; these were baked goods we knew and we had our recipes. It was more a matter of avoiding cock-ups (like forgetting the salt or yeast, weighing something out wrong, etc.). The two examiners walked around, not offering any advice nor replying to questions, but giving our batter a poke here, weighing a lump of dough there, measuring the temperature of another. They did all this, as you’d expect, with poker faces – they gave nothing away, not letting slip the merest look, smile, encouraging nod, pursed lips or furrowed brow, in spite of all our frequent searching looks. We were marked on everything: dress, hygiene, behaviour, how we turned out the dough, how we put everything in the oven, how we managed (or didn’t) the chaos on our workstations… and much else besides.
It all went fairly smoothly for me; no mistakes with weighing, my items were more or less uniform (I’ve not yet totally mastered this, my big flaw) and I only made one cock-up: just as I was putting my baguettes in the oven, I realised I’d forgotten to slash 4 for the zig-zag version. Remembering this when putting the loaves onto the baking tray left me completely distracted (but that’s me for you). Well, not too disastrous; time for Plan B: I slashed open 4 of the baguettes on the tray with the cutter. Not very elegant, but at least the “split” effect would be there.
Everything was looking good, when the equipment let me down: when I went to put my viennoiseries in the oven, I found the proving cabinet (visualise this as like a large fridge kept at 30° C and 98% humidity), was only at 20° C and down to 44% humidity so, of course, everything was dried out and crusted over. My first though was that I was sunk… Both examiners came over and took stock of the damage and my crestfallen air. The cabinet must have broken down mid-morning. Not to worry, they told me, you just won’t be marked on the volume of your viennoiseries. I took this on board, but my morale went into a nosedive. We transferred my items to another cabinet and, at the same time, I glazed them with a mixture of egg glaze and water to rehydrate them. As a result, I now had another hour and a half ahead of me, and when I thought I’d nearly finished. And how were they going to rise with this delay? I hung around in sullen mood, waiting for them to swell up again, if they would be so kind… And they obliged, so I cooked one tray after another, and they turned out pretty well in the end. Phew!
As required, everyone displayed the finished items on their “tour”. The examiner came over to see us and began a long and rigorous debriefing: he counted all the items, checked how well they were cooked, the flavour and colour. He cut one of each through the middle to check the crumb quality for texture, flavour and holes. All the good and bad points were indicated and noted. The result: a fairly good score for my wholemeal, rolls and viennoiseries (just shows how important it is never to despair), average score for my loaves (just a touch overcooked), and a poor score for my plaits (I’m useless at this, sad to say).
This is what it all looked like:
In the photo you can see my colleague from the second wave still hard at it, top left the cursed proving cabinet (!) and lower right the knife with which I was tempted to slit my wrists. :-)
As the photo doesn’t show the full end result very well, here’s a very short (9sec) panoramic video.
Next step, the real test on May 29th…
It began with 30 minutes gathered round for the briefing, where we were given our “order” of what to produce: what types and how many of each. We then had to make all our calculations and, most importantly, organise a work schedule with timings and use of equipment. We all reached for our calculators and recipe files then set to work…
The order:
Traditional French bread:
- 9 x 550g slashed loaves
- 8 x 350g baguettes, including 4 zig-zag split loaves
- 12 x 80g rolls in 3 different shapes of own choice (I chose "tobacco pouch", "pistol" and "volcano")
- 4 x 400g large loaves, 2 round with own choice of slashed top, 2 long with 2 slashes
Wholemeal bread:
- 4 x 350g wholemeal loaves in 2 different shapes, round and long
Viennoiseries 1: Raised dough (milk dough this time)
- 6 x 80g "shuttles"
- 6 x 80g plaits (single line)
- 3 plaits (double line) "with remaining dough"
Viennoiseries 2: Raised flaky dough
- 12 pains au chocolat
- 12 croissants
- 12 pains au raisins
We needed to calculate weights, how long everything would take, dough proving time, kneading, weighing out and shaping. As well as all that, and most importantly, we had to organise ourselves to avoid having too much to do at some moments (the biggest challenge) or twiddling our thumbs at others.
Then it was time to take possession of our “tour” (the workstation with its wooden worktop that resembles a kind of baker’s workbench, as shown in the photo lower down). We installed ourselves in the “fournil” (oven area), got out all our tools and everything else we needed: scales, baking sheets, trays, cooling racks, etc. Each of us had our own kneading bowl, dough mixer and an allocated shelf in the oven – so no bottlenecks, which was very useful. One touching detail: the taller people had been allocated the higher shelves in the oven. No need to tell you which my shelf was out of the 4 levels…
At 7 am sharp, there was an announcement: “At one o’clock all your items must be cooked, turned out and presented artistically on your workstation”, and we were off.
It was all systems go and a total hush descended on the “fournil”. We were all hard at it, with no time for joking, in an atmosphere of intense concentration. There were no great anxieties either; these were baked goods we knew and we had our recipes. It was more a matter of avoiding cock-ups (like forgetting the salt or yeast, weighing something out wrong, etc.). The two examiners walked around, not offering any advice nor replying to questions, but giving our batter a poke here, weighing a lump of dough there, measuring the temperature of another. They did all this, as you’d expect, with poker faces – they gave nothing away, not letting slip the merest look, smile, encouraging nod, pursed lips or furrowed brow, in spite of all our frequent searching looks. We were marked on everything: dress, hygiene, behaviour, how we turned out the dough, how we put everything in the oven, how we managed (or didn’t) the chaos on our workstations… and much else besides.
It all went fairly smoothly for me; no mistakes with weighing, my items were more or less uniform (I’ve not yet totally mastered this, my big flaw) and I only made one cock-up: just as I was putting my baguettes in the oven, I realised I’d forgotten to slash 4 for the zig-zag version. Remembering this when putting the loaves onto the baking tray left me completely distracted (but that’s me for you). Well, not too disastrous; time for Plan B: I slashed open 4 of the baguettes on the tray with the cutter. Not very elegant, but at least the “split” effect would be there.
Everything was looking good, when the equipment let me down: when I went to put my viennoiseries in the oven, I found the proving cabinet (visualise this as like a large fridge kept at 30° C and 98% humidity), was only at 20° C and down to 44% humidity so, of course, everything was dried out and crusted over. My first though was that I was sunk… Both examiners came over and took stock of the damage and my crestfallen air. The cabinet must have broken down mid-morning. Not to worry, they told me, you just won’t be marked on the volume of your viennoiseries. I took this on board, but my morale went into a nosedive. We transferred my items to another cabinet and, at the same time, I glazed them with a mixture of egg glaze and water to rehydrate them. As a result, I now had another hour and a half ahead of me, and when I thought I’d nearly finished. And how were they going to rise with this delay? I hung around in sullen mood, waiting for them to swell up again, if they would be so kind… And they obliged, so I cooked one tray after another, and they turned out pretty well in the end. Phew!
As required, everyone displayed the finished items on their “tour”. The examiner came over to see us and began a long and rigorous debriefing: he counted all the items, checked how well they were cooked, the flavour and colour. He cut one of each through the middle to check the crumb quality for texture, flavour and holes. All the good and bad points were indicated and noted. The result: a fairly good score for my wholemeal, rolls and viennoiseries (just shows how important it is never to despair), average score for my loaves (just a touch overcooked), and a poor score for my plaits (I’m useless at this, sad to say).
This is what it all looked like:
In the photo you can see my colleague from the second wave still hard at it, top left the cursed proving cabinet (!) and lower right the knife with which I was tempted to slit my wrists. :-)
As the photo doesn’t show the full end result very well, here’s a very short (9sec) panoramic video.
Next step, the real test on May 29th…
Lasts posts
Who's making the croissants?
When you look at a bakery from the outside, you naturally think that in the bakery, the bakers make the bread, and in the laboratory, the pastry chefs make the cakes. It's very often like that, with each of these professions having quite different ways of working, but sometimes there's also one...November 23th 2025651
Oven height
When we put a dish or cake in the oven, we naturally tend to put it on the middle shelf, and that's what we usually do. But in some cases, this position and height can be a little tricky, so let's find out why.October 8th 20252,1565
The importance of sieving
In recipes that use a fine powder (flour, powdered sugar, etc.), you'll often see the advice to sift before using it. To sift is to pass the powder in question through a sieve (a very fine strainer) before incorporating it into your recipe. It's often advice, but is it really useful?September 3rd 20257,1873
The grease spray
As soon as you have something in a recipe that sticks to the mold, the question always arises as to how difficult it is to remove from the mold. There's nothing more frustrating than breaking your cake when unmolding it, because part of it has stuck in the mold. The classic way to avoid this is...August 26th 20256,7065
Cake moulds
When we make a cake, or a cake of the same rectangular shape, we usually take out our usual mould and tell ourselves that the recipe is anyway "for a cake", but is it really that simple?August 25th 20256,7385
Other pages you may also like
Cooking time for pasta
What is as good and simple as pasta? Not much, I think, and it's so easy to prepare: boiling water, salted (or not, depending on your taste), a few minutes of boiling and it's ready. The only "difficulty", so to speak, is the respect of the cooking time and the risk of, unfortunately, overcooking...July 18th 201923 K4.6
The right weight of pastry for a pie
Let's try to solve a thorny problem: How much dough will I need when I make my next pie? You're planning to make a pie, you're going to use your favourite mould or circle, but how much pastry will you need to fill it completely with a well spread pastry, without being too thin, or on the contrary...March 20th 202066 K4.3
How to zest a fruit?
You will have no doubt noticed that many recipes call for the zest of citrus fruit. The zest is that outer layer of the skin which adds so much flavour to a dish. There are many different ways to peel off the zest and various tools are available. Here is a summary of the “dos and don'ts” of...November 5th 201347 K3.8
Steam for baking bread
What does steam have to do with bread-making? This is not only a bakers' secret, it is something you might not think of at all: if you make bread and bake it like a cake, you will end up with bread, but pale and with a thick, hard crust – a long way from the golden-brown crusty loaf you had in...June 16th 2021146 K4.5
Egg yolks and caster sugar
We often come across recipes where we need to mix egg yolks with caster sugar. This would appear to be a very ordinary and simple thing to do but, be warned, these two ingredients can behave oddly together.February 15th 201882 K 24.3
Post a comment or question
Follow this page (as 7 people already do)
If you are interested in this page, you can "follow" it, by entering your email address here. You will then receive a notification immediately each time the page is modified or a new comment is added. Please note that you will need to confirm this following.
Note: We'll never share your e-mail address with anyone else.
Alternatively: you can subscribe to the mailing list of cooling-ez.com , you will receive a e-mail for each new recipe published on the site.