03 October 2007

Day One and Two

Starting school has been a whirlwind. I will summarize, as I am sure that you, dear reader, do not want to hear about every single thing that happened. I realized this when trying to tell someone about my first day and their eyes glazed over and then they lost consciousness and fell down a flight of stairs. I, if nothing else, learn from maiming people who are close to me.

Our class is big- 23 people. Our teacher, two Michelin star Chef G, has promised that there will be only twenty of us by the time this first term is over. Which, on the first day, is news that is terrifying when delivered by a balding and slightly crazy looking French man. I wasn't worried. I'm smart. I can arrive on time. I can take notes. I was sure I would be fine, until today. We began our knife skills practice.

I. Suck. At. Cutting.

Oh, humble pie, you are not sweet.

Give me a big ol' chef's knife and a Frenchman staring me down and all the sudden the onions in my hands some how separate themselves into crazy, unwieldy, uneven piles of slices. I performed what I would call a ch-ice. It's a cross between a chop and a dice, and it is none the prettier for being from two worlds. An unclassically trained observer might called it “mashed-up onion”, or possibly just “butchered onion”. Bleeding to death quietly, my onion sat in a sad pile and stared reproachfully at me as Chef G suggested I quit holding the knife “like your girlfriend holds it”.

More tomorrow.

Run food! Run from me! I will cook you in my magic cooking dress!!


Bits and Pieces:

We have six hundred pounds of reference books, including a tomb called the North American Meat Buyer's Guide which is full of delicious animals I will eat.

Cooks wear way to much clothing. My daily uniform: ridiculously loose and wildly patterned pants, designed by MC Hammer, clogs that even the Dutch would be wary of claiming as their own, an undershirt, a cotton-poly blend chef's coat that has the twin virtues of being both hot AND non-flame resistant, a kerchief (that's right- tied in a Windsor knot), and, to complete this heat-retaining outfit, a four foot long apron.

The State of Maryland required us to take an examination today that certifies that we read and write at an eighth grade level. I'm not sure everyone in my class passed.

I love this so, so much already. Gimme more, gimme it now.

8 comments:

Princess Amber said...

My my, that is a magic looking cooking dress! I feel like you could tie that apron into a cape and fly over here and mash me up some onion. Or make me an Elmo cake. Or just get me some beer from the shop. Or something where it's you and me making funny jokes at the expense of others, and sometimes even ourselves, and laughing at the good fortune which has brought us together to wreak havoc on sanity and good manners...

dckatastrophe said...

handsome! it's like i have a whole new friend! less hair! no piercings! uniform! new "life direction"! Your name is now Bartholemew and you are my new friend! dc

english guy said...

Good job that tunic's flame resistant 'cos you are looking hot ma friend.

Believe.

MB said...

Bartholomew. Perfect!

Arjewtino said...

Hey, I carried that couch in!

I know for a fact your girlfriend holds knives correctly.

Thanks for the new term ch-ice. I'll add that to my culinary vocabulary, which currently includes "microwave" but used as a verb.

Sassenach said...

Mighty dashing in that getup!

David M said...

Wow. U look cuter without ur glasses... keep them off!

HRH King Friday XIII said...

yes, yes, you do look good w/o the glasses.

now like i said, get in the kitchen and make me some blueberry pancakes, bitch.