Big news fail

So my big news was supposed to be that two of my teachers suggested me to be a chef's assistant for Sheryl Crow's tour chef for her concert in Upper Darby.  Nothing was final and I was waiting every second for an email or phone call saying I was chosen.  I just got a call from my mother saying she heard the show was cancelled. I took to Google and found she was right, as per the usual.  Sheryl cancelled her show due to acute laryngitis. 

Hopefully another time. Frown.

Feel better Sheryl.

if it makes you happy.

i'll hopefully have some huge news.  thats a big hopefully.  until then, keep your fingers crossed for me!

Have we met?

I just figured out how to check my stats on here and I'm surprised.  So to all of those anonymous readers out there, (especially those in London and Alaska... wow) thanks. Not sure if we have met but feel free to say hi.  I hope you enjoy it and the fact that someone, anyone out there, is reading makes me want to continue to write. So thanks again.

Last week was our last official skills week of class.  Tapas for H&A and cake decorating for Baking.  All and all, a success.  I made a roasted red pepper hummus for the first time and it turned out wonderfully. I was surprised at how simple it was to make. It is so easy to think that different foods are difficult to make since they are unfamiliar, but in the end you need to realize that it's just food.  (If any after-school programs are looking for a life lesson writer, let me know.) So yes, hummus.  I also made some asparagus crostinis with tomato fresca. I was a bit disappointed with my presentation (check out the far right of the picture on the left,) however this was my secondary dish that I made because I was bored with just one dish. At least it tasted good.

Cake decorating in Baking class was an actual nightmare.  I haven't been a fan practically all quarter but this task stressed me out like no other.  We assembled a tri-layer strawberry shortcake and I felt so out of my element.  I like to think I am pretty comfortable in the kitchen and treat it a bit like my safety zone.  Well, not that night. I panicked with almost every step. Slicing the layers, remembering to coat the layers with simple syrup, lining the layers correctly when topping, etc. etc.  Non-stop stress. Once all assembled we were able to decorate which was actually quite fun. We used the techniques we learned in weeks past to make pretty rosettes which would be topped with strawberries.  I eventually brought home this (pictured below) and it was sooooo good.

One more test until break.  I'm still keeping super busy.  I'm brainstorming ideas to start working on my casting video. A good friend of mine is using his generous photography skills to help me make business cards.  I'm in my first wedding and planning the shower under some serious time constraints and yes, I'll be preparing most of the food which I am really excited about. I'm going out and becoming more social because, why not. I am participating in and rallying up some of my awesome friends for the International Coastal Cleanup (it's not too late to sign up... click the link!) to do some good.  I'm also looking to get involved with another volunteer group promoting shark conservation.  If you know me you know this is a little obsession of mine.  I'm (hoping not to jinx anything) trying out for my school's competitive culinary team. I'm trying to welcome fall while mourning my summer clothes and dusting off the ol' North Face body suit parka that keeps this sunny girl warm and "happy." I'm sure there is plenty more that I am forgetting and before I know it, fall quarter will be here and gone.  Then graduation. Then...who knows?  I have lots of ambitious ideas and some are pretty tangible.  Not sure where they will take me but the world is my oyster.

Happy Labor Day

Like I said.

So I didn't end up going to the casting call. I figured with my nerves I'd be better off sending in a video.  That way, I could give a better idea of who I am as opposed to being all bitter for standing in line for hours (which I did enough of this weekend, thanks Flugtag) and give a poor 30 second interview.  And let's be honest... I couldn't choose two photos I felt best represented myself.  So my video will be made and hopefully will get me to the top.  I'll post it on here when I'm finished.

School is coming to an end for the quarter and I'll be happy to have some time off.  Charcuterie and Intro to Pastry are scheduled for the fall quarter.  Currently I am working on my final project which will somewhat act as a stepping stone to the business I hope to start.  We have to build a catering company more or less.  From menu design to demographics, the only thing not covered is pricing and the address of my kitchen. I'm pretty happy with what I have so far. My 4 course, 3 option table d'hote menu is all based on Italian cuisine with the menu written in Italian to boot.  (Ciao tutti.)  Last week we made eclairs and puff pastries and I got to enjoy this guy to the lower right: chocolate mousse eclair with raspberries and shaved white chocolate. The last two weeks of Baking class we will be doing cake production and decorating.

I'm trying to enjoy the time I have left in school since it is flying by.  I've made some friends and met a lot of mentors.  My roommate told me to enjoy it when I started in January because it flies by.  She was right.  I need to keep my head on straight and focus on the positive and keep moving forward.  Good things are to come.

Things may get interesting and it could involve Bobby Flay.

So a friend sent me an email today with the subject "casting call." Knowing me and my friends this could have been for anything; a role in a zombie movie (they were only casting for victims. No thanks.) or in this case, for The Next Food Network Star. It seems like more and more, I should start believing in signs. As cheesy as it sounds, they keep coming.  First the restaurant decision and now this email.

Last night I laid in bed, not sleeping, tossing and turning and thinking about my possible catering business and how I am terrified of what is going to happen. While I love being busy I don't think I want the life of a restaurant chef. And so I lay and freak out about what do I want?  Do I want to work for someone else or do I want to call the shots?  Do I want to just take the first job that comes my way because it's a job and money or do I want to hold out for what will make me happy?  Isn't that why/how I got into this anyways?  I decided to take this culinary route because it is something that makes me happy.  I will pick cutting fat off of chicken thighs any day over trying to figure out a balance sheet. So this email comes along as soon as I'm wondering what I should be doing and where I should go next.  And let's admit it...  I could never pass by a mirror without looking so why not TV?  Seems like a good fit.  Maybe we will meet again Mr. Flay... maybe.

Change.

So as I mentioned in the post I lied about (sorry for never updating) lots of things are changing.  I went to Costa Rica and it was amazing.  A kind of place I could see living in.  It's interesting to go somewhere so different from what you see every day. We came home and purged our rooms of junk we've been hoarding.  So much "stuff."

Back to work at the restaurant and another week until school started and back to the grind. Same routine every day.  Same exhaustion.  Same stress.  Starting to catch up.  I chalked it up to post-vacation depression.

School started again: intro to baking and hors d'oeuvres and appetizers.  H&A was pretty much my job at the restaurant in class form so I was excited and knew it would be fairly easy.  Baking on the other hand is very much hurry up and wait... and I can't stand it.  I love sweet treats as much as the next person but I feel like baking is another world and it's not for me.  It feels boring to me.  Sorry if I am offending any bakers out there reading this but it's just my opinion. There's just something more exciting about adding this and that and fire and speed and seeing how it turns out.  Baking is more of a science and I've never been a science and math kind of girl.  On the bright side, I bring home lots of pies.  On the downside, I bring home lots of pies.

Work at the restaurant was going well.  I was getting better, faster at my tasks and prep work.  I've been going back and forth with the idea of leaving for a number of reasons: more time to spend with the family and friends I've been neglecting, more time to recover from the car accident I was in, more time to focus on school, more time in general.  The restaurant consumed practically every hour of every weekend and I knew it would be that way and I'm not complaining.  I chose this.  I felt as though it would be forever before I moved up since I'm only there twice a week and should come back when I could give 100%, so to speak.  After hours of sleepless nights, internal dialogue, lists and a talk with an instructor I decided to "suck it up" and stick with it.  I vowed that weekend that I was going to be better every day.  This was a great opportunity and I was going to be better.  Sunday rolled around and I was let go by the head sous chef since my availability is lacking.  Not to get all new-age, higher power-y but I guess this was the universe's way of letting me know I made the wrong decision.  I was told they needed people to be there and learn the stations and two days a week wasn't working for them.  He made it clear that in no way it was due to my performance so that softened the blow.  I worked the rest of the night and choked back the tears as I said goodbye and left my first job.

While I am enjoying this wonderful span of days called the weekend, I am torn. I enjoyed being in the kitchen.  I enjoy hanging out with friends and relaxing. I know it's probably for the best but it still sucks. Now I am planning and plotting some things of my own and we'll see how it goes.  Here's to signs.

Summertime and the living is... different.

Lots of new stuff going on and of course no time to write about it since I'm exhausted and my eyes are so bloodshot they actually hurt.

I promise I will write tomorrow.  And it's in writing so I can't break it.  Hold me accountable.

Here's a picture.

A post quarter update... on my birthday... from the emergency room.

Yeah.

So anyways, last night was my last class for the quarter. Nothing official yet but I think I have straight A's again. Hopefully at least.  This quarter has been much more challenging than last. I think it has been a combination of working 20+ hours on the weekends, 20 hours during the week, mucho projects and papers and more challenging hands-on work.

Every week was multiple reports, hours of dish research and brainstorming. On the bright side I can tell you anything you would want to know about being a food journalist, cooking on salt blocks, how asthma has a link to fatty, greasy foods, and Jose Garces.

This quarter also brought its down sides: failing my first quiz (well D, but still), totally bombing on fish cookery and the reason why I'm updating from the ER. Here are my lessons learned.

Lesson 1
Don't try and save money by purchasing a study guide instead of the actual book.  The study guide happened by accident but I was trying to save money.  I swear on my dog that the listing on half.com said nothing about a study guide. $20some and a week later, my nutrition study guide arrived on my doorstep.  I opened it up and thought "I could work with this." There were no pictures but pretty much all of the basics I needed to know.  A summary, really.  So guess what my quiz was on.  A diagram of the digestive system.  Why I need to be able to tell the jejunum from the ileum I'm not sure and since my study guide had zero pictures and half of the quiz was listing, from top to bottom, the digestive system I think you know how that went. Let's just say the only think I got right was anus.

Diagram courtesy of vitallywell.com. 

Wish I saw this three months ago.

Lesson 2

If you have no idea how to cook something, pay attention and practice.  As much as I have tried and want to, I hate the taste of fish. Some of it is tolerable but mostly, no thank you, so I never make it.  We needed to shallow poach fluke and cook red snapper en papillote. Everything about this class was foreign to me.  I forgot to add butter to my parchment paper for the shallow poach and my fish broke in half. For the en papillote I didn't raise the fish off of the paper, so it burned to the bottom. I don't have a funny anecdote about this.  It just sucked.  So if you don't eat something or cook it on the regular, study it and practice.  Otherwise you'll probably still suck at it.  Like me.

Lesson 3

Exercise caution during random acts of kindness.  Last Thursday, a classmate was rushing to the elevator. Being the sweetheart that I am (please hold your laughter) I put my arm out to stop the door from closing. At the same time, he kicked his foot out and got me square in the finger. It didn't hurt until Monday, probably from overworking it during my weekend shifts at the restaurant and here we are today in my comfy bed at the hospital.  Anytime I bend it it gets stuck and I have to either physically move it back to normal or pop it out; both extremely painful. In ER pain scale terms, it's an 8. This time next week I will be en route to Costa Rica where I will need this finger for holding on to ropes while I rappel down waterfalls (cue sympathy.)  I also need it for steering my car without turning on the wipers, writing things, and combing my hair. So for now, on my birthday I will sit and wait.  I hope they give me my xray as a gift.

I will try an get more updates out since I have been slacking and will post a link to my flickr page for pictures after the trip. And for any robbers reading this; we have a house sitter so don't even try it.

It's been awhile.

Hi strangers!  I know I have been absent for a while.  Life has been crazy.  Lots of new things have happened and I really couldn't be happier right now.  School is going well.  I ended last quarter with a 4.0 and have all A's at the half-way point of this quarter.    May 2nd I did the biggest thing physically I have ever done... completed the Broad Street run.  All 10 miles in the heat and with my best friend by my side.  It was a great day and I was super proud of myself and her.

It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows however.  Starting the day off, I had an incredibly nervous stomach so had to take many bathroom breaks.  I know, TMI.  I worried all morning: did I train enough?  Am I going to finish?  What if I get sick during the race?  What if I don't finish?  The starting time was getting closer and closer and it was time to push that all aside.  I was about to do something I had never thought possible. We approached the starting line and took off.  I told her it would be more fun if we finished together (that's what she said) and we would be able to motivate each other when things got tough. It was so nice to see the people along Broad Street cheering for us even though they had no idea who we were.  It was about 800 degrees so some of the fire hydrants were open along the course and, like a kid or a girl running 10 miles in sweltering heat, I ran through all of them.  We took walking breaks at the water stops and, in my case, up the hills.  All down hill... yeah right.   We passed Temple and it was nice to see some familiar territory.  Before I knew it we were at mile 5 and City Hall.  I'm not going to lie; this hurt.  After awhile, my body just kept going.  We knew our friends would be waiting for us at mile 8 so that definitely kept us looking forward.  After mile 8 it was two more miles to go.  We were passing the sports stadium and the Rocky theme was playing.  Girl Talk came on my ipod and kept playing "watch my feet, watch my feet."  Then I started singing it out loud.  We came up on bff's family and knew we were close to the finish.  That last .5 miles were so tough I think because we were so close.  The finish line got closer and closer and before I knew it we were crossing it.  It was an awesome feeling. My legs felt like jello and I had a lovely sunburn.  The outline of my ipod (as seen above) was burnt onto my arm and my hilarious friends asked me what gig I was wearing.  It took about two days to walk normally again and I spent plenty of time waddling around my office and house.

Now that it is over all I want to do is run more and more (which I plan on doing as soon as I hit publish.)  I really want to do the half marathon this coming November so that I have the time to train safely.  If I could do this, what can't I do?

first weekend at the new job

In list form because I'm too tired to form actual paragraphs:
- while walking to work two random strangers said "hi chef"... to me
- learned a lot in the last few days, especially some Spanish words
- stabbed myself with my pairing knife. Little blood.

- one of the sous chefs loves that's what she said jokes.  Instant friends.

- feet are tired
- knees are hurting
- hair is stinky like kitchen
- so exhausted
- so happy.

I was telling someone today that I never saw my life going in this direction but I am so glad that it did.

21 days

First to start off, this post is unfortunately not about zombies.  Sorry.

It's about how many days until probably the toughest day of my life.  The Broad Street Run. 10 miles of grueling conditions, rough terrain and obstacles.  Okay, I'm lying.  It's a straight, slight downhill course and everyone says it is pretty easy but still, 10 miles.  I ran six miles today; my farthest distance ever.  I'm not going to say it was awesome and felt great.  It was awful and it sucked and next weekend I'll be out there again trying to go even farther.  I've never really been the "push it 'til I puke" person but today that almost changed.  Around mile four, which usually isn't that much of a challenge (weird saying that), I started going hazy an needed to sit for a few minutes.  Then the nausea.  Then the fast, uncomfortable search for a bathroom.  Once I was able to run again my legs, back and stomach started cramping. One more mile to go and I finished by jog/limp/walking.  Six miles took one hour and 23 minutes.  I'll take it.

It's tough finding the time to get my training in and will be tougher now that my weekends will be spent at the restaurant.  My first official shift will be this upcoming Saturday so I'll be trying to get my long runs in during the week.  I know the rule is to never increase your distance more than a tenth but I don't have a choice and so I've been doing a run/walk method, the majority of it running.  Should all go well, I'm looking to finish in around two hours but registered for two and a half hours.

So school.

First week of quarter two is over and so far so good.  I like all of my teachers and feel that I will learn a lot this quarter.  In our first class for Skills 2, we had to draw our plating, base it around a flavor profile and have it ready in a five minute fire time window.  It was so much more intense than my Skills 1 final that it's a pretty good mix of super intimidating and exciting.  Intro to Food Service seems like it will be a change of pace and it will be a good way to find out about all the different types of jobs I can get and how to get them.  I'm excited for my Nutrition class since it is something I am into normally anyways.

I'll be walking away from my job of three years this week.  The job that ended up pushing me into culinary school via partial unemployment.  As happy as I am to move on to bigger and better things, it's sad in a way.

Lots of good.

Sorry I have been MIA for a bit.  Between finals and what I am about to write about, life's been a bit hectic.  Thank you to anyone who is still out there reading this.

So spring break is coming to an end which, for me, was never really a break to being with.  I had my trail at Tinto which went very well.  As soon as I got into the kitchen I was put to work brunoise cutting red peppers, small dicing potatoes, making mirepoix stock kits and julienning about 40 onions.  I think the final task may have been a test to see if I would finish with a smile on my face and I am happy to say that I did.  I don't mind the grunt work.  I know that I have absolutely no kitchen experience besides my four months in culinary school.  I know that you have to do the grunt work to gain respect.  I know there is much more of it to come and hours on end with little or no pay before I make it to the top.  But, I love it.  So I will.  9 p.m. rolled around and the chef that I had spoken to came down and asked me what I thought and when I would be able to come back.  I was excited.  If I were terrible they probably would have just thanked me for coming in and sent me on my way.

A few days later I'd be back to prove myself again.  This time it would be a bit more hands on.  I got to work cutting french baguettes which I so wanted to eat.  (I later did.  mmm dinner.)  After that I observed the chefs I would be trailing as the dinner service began.  I learned how to make many of the dishes and a few of the things I made went out for service.  Since the two restaurants, Tinto and Village Whiskey, share a kitchen, I mainly worked on the Village Whiskey dishes: pickled tomatoes, artichokes, carrots and beats, deviled eggs and Cobb salads.  The most exciting and challenging part was trying, emphasis on trying, to shuck oysters and clams. I felt victorious as my first shell popped open and defeating as the next four did not. Practice makes perfect and that's what I did whenever an order came up. A few dinner rushes came and I tried to jump in whenever possible.  The night flew by and before I knew it I was wrapping everything up in preparation to go home.  I was hoping that someone would come over and invite me back.  Nothing.  So I started cleaning.  While scrubbing down the meat slicer the head chef came over and asked if I wanted to talk.  Being the awkward, unknowing kitchen helper that I am I asked if I should finish with the slicer.  He said someone else could finish the job and we went to the office and sat down.

"So, what did you think."
"I loved it.  I had lots of fun."

Then he hit me with it: they wanted to bring me aboard as an employee.  If only I could have seen my face.  Trying to contain my overwhelming joy I focused as much on what he was saying as possible.  As I walked out of the restaurant I did little victory dances whenever no one would be able to see.  I got in my car and screamed.  This is official (in both senses of the word.)  My first kitchen job at an amazing restaurant headed up by an amazing team and an Iron Chef.   If you stop by Village Whiskey on a Saturday night and order the pickled tomatoes, imagine me putting them in the mason jar with a big, silly grin on my face.  They'll taste even better.

amazing.

Tonight was awesome.  I was invited back for a second trail!  I'll post more another time.  Right now, I'm pooped.

Speaking of Iron Chef...

Finals and quarter one are over.  Flew right by.  Now I'm on spring break and it's right back to the grind.  I asked one of my professors for assistance in getting some experience in the kitchen.  He really came through for me and gave me the contact info for one of the chef's at Tinto.  I gave the chef a call and he invited me in for a trail tomorrow (yes, trail. Not trial.)  From what I know, I could be doing anything from following another chef around all night, to cutting, or cleaning or pretty much whatever they want.

Never having been to this Garces restaurant, I went for brunch on Sunday.  Everything was outstanding and I'm not just saying that.  The tortilla espanola was my favorite.  We each ordered something different so I was able to try a few of the dishes.  I asked our server if the chef I was supposed to meet was working and if I could introduce myself if he had a moment.  He did and luckily, it eased some of my nervousness.  Of course not all of it, but now my excitement is definitely outweighing my anxiety.

I spent this evening working on my knife cuts and reviewing their menu.  I know this is a great opportunity at a great restaurant and I am really hoping this could be the start of something new.

Here goes nothin'.

end of the beginning part 1

So practical one was last night.  The best way to describe it would be a beginner's version of iron chef + 3 hours.  Chef folded a piece of paper that had six items written on it and everyone chose at random.  I think for the sheet I happened to take he decided to put the most complicated items.

I had to make the following:
- stewed vegetables (1 zucchini, 1 eggplant)
- 1 pound of pasta dough cut into fettucini
- hollandaise sauce
- tomato sauce
- french fries
- pureed soup

I started with the pasta since that would take the longest. Relieved I practiced over the weekend and spoke with chef about it the night prior, I made a well of flour on a sheet pan, whisked my eggs and combined everything.  It was my best work ever.  Not to toot my own horn but toot toot.  When my dough was finished I let it sit and started with my tomato sauce so I could serve it as a dish.  I rolled out the pasta and cut my fettucini and while waiting for everything to finish for that dish, I started my hollandaise.  After whisking the egg yolk and lemon water over a double boiler I started whisking in my butter and the sauce broke.  Start over.  Broke again.  Frustrated, I moved on to my french fries.  Sliced them and put in water so they wouldn't oxidize.  By then my sauce was finishing so I cooked my pasta and finished the dish.  Chef said I talk a big game about being Italian and how he calls it gravy and that this better be good.  "You're lucky."  Again toot toot.

Back to french fries.  I wanted to serve them with my hollandaise and that wasn't working out so the fries had to go it alone.  I blanched them in boiling water and moved them to the fryer.  Error # 1.  As soon as they hit the oil I knew I messed up.  They turned an odd shade of brown and were a bit soggy, however well seasoned.  Hey, I am trying to earn back my "toots" that I just lost.

Next dish:  Pureed soup.  I placed red peppers on the burner of the stove to get them nice and burnt.  Once covered in black I put them in a bowl and covered it with plastic wrap to loosen the skins.  Meanwhile I prepared my stock for the following two dishes.  I cut my zucchini and eggplant for my stewed vegetables and looked at the clock.  8:30.  I am two and a half hours in and starting to panic. Nerves were getting the best of me and I needed to relax.  Mise en place, make sure I had everything I needed and took a second to breath.

I salted my eggplant slices and started sautéing my zucchini.  While this was cooking I made my brown roux to add to the vegetables.  Rinsed my eggplant and added it with the zucchini.  Added my stock, simmered and added my roux.  A success.  The toots are coming back!

4 down, 2 more to go.  I sweated my mirepoix and assembled my spice sachet for my soup.  Meanwhile I removed the skins of my peppers and gave them a good rinse and rough chop.  Added the mirepoix to my stock with the peppers and brought it to a boil, then a simmer and added my sachet.  While that simmered it was time to conquer my earlier foe: hollandaise.

I went to the sinks to have a breather and get my thoughts in order.  I realized both times before I was too "eggy" and needed more water this time.  I collected my ingredients and moved to the stove.  Egg yolk and lemon water over the double boiler, I started whisking.  It didn't take long for sabayon stage to occur and so far it was looking good.  Relief.  Removed my mixture from the heat and started adding my butter.  It was holding.  Double relief.  I few minutes later I took my sauce up to chef and he tasted it.  Success ... finally!

By this time my soup was ready to be pureed. I grabbed the food mill and got to work.  To my pureed soup I added honey and some cayenne pepper.  Chef tasted it and made a face.  My heart fell into my stomach.  "What's in this?" he asked.  I told him and he said "good work.  Remember that for another time."  I was done.  Toot toot!!!!

The fastest, most stressful and fun four hours of my life.  Loved every second but so happy it is over.  Chef said writing "relax" on my paper possibly earned me an extra point.

One more practical to go and three written finals until spring break.  And sleep.

Never ever ever cook popcorn with olive oil...idiot.

Well it has been a while since my last proper update on how things are going, what I am learning, etc.  A lot has been going on with me lately.  March definitely came in like a lion.

I kicked up my training for Broad Street completing my longest run ever.  I planned my three mile course and once I got to the 5K mark I made it my goal to run farther and faster than I had at my first 5K race.  I beat my old time by 2 minutes and went .1 miles more.  I know to some seasoned runners that may not seem like a big deal but I think it is and am very proud.  I am looking forward to pushing for 3.5, possibly 4, miles this weekend and I am hoping to do it outside weather permitting.  That treadmill is a total downer.  I started drinking protein shakes after my work outs to build lean muscle; incorporated in to chocolate milk isn't too bad.  Jillian Michaels No More Trouble Zones has been my strength training.  I recommend that video for any one who is looking for an awesome workout.  Less than two months until race day.  I'm really looking forward to making something I always thought impossible, possible.

On to cooking.

I made a salad!  Anyone who knows me knows half the time I was making this I was probably totally grossed out.  Salad has everything I hate into one dish: lettuce + condiments.  blegh.  Everyone thinks it's nuts when I say I have never eaten a salad.  Chef looked at me like I had 3 heads when I asked him what I would combine with a sherry mustard vinaigrette.  Lettuce tastes like dirty water to me and if even a shred of it is in my food, I can taste it immediately.  Needless to say I didn't taste my product this go-round.  I did get an 8 out of 10, which for a first time salad maker, I'll take as a success.  I had a chance to redeem myself with my prior oil to acid ratio faux pas and made a perfectly balanced (but absolutely disgusting to me) sherry mustard vinaigrette.

My salad with cherry tomatoes, batonned red onions and snap peas with my sherry mustard vinaigrette (as seen in the background)

The following week we moved on to eggs of all sorts.  I made over easy, over medium (which I never knew existed,) an omelette and poached eggs.  I flipped my over medium sans spatula and sans mess.  I managed to poach my egg inside out somehow and on the second try I got it right.  It's all about timing and the motion of the water. Everything else falls into place.  Bff/roommate and her mom were treated to a poached egg breakfast over the weekend.

This poached egg actually looks kind of gross.  Yes, this was the properly cooked one.



Finals week is next week.  This went by in a blink of an eye.  Practicals are next week and written finals follow after that.  Before I know it, this will all be over.

and many more...

buon compleanno papa  <3

Therapy, or at least an anti-depressant, in the form of culinary school

One of the reasons I knew my decision to start culinary school was the right one is that whenever I am feeling down, stressed, angry, etc all I need to do is get in the kitchen and start cooking.  For someone who is so obsessed with knowing the outcomes of things there is something so assuring with the direction of following a recipe.  I can have a million things on my mind and as soon as I start my tasks, everything clears up.  A terrible cry fest can be cured with a bowl and a whisk.

Lately this outlet has come in handy for me.  I end my day at job #1 frazzled and miserable.  I spend my long drives to school mulling the thoughts of my recently failed on again/off again relationship.  I usually get out of my car, walk into school, and go into class completely deflated.  Chef walks in, my classmates and I start talking and everything suddenly gets better.  I am no longer stressed out about my job and realize it's just a job and only temporary.  I am no longer sad about my break-up and realize it's not the end of the world and some other lucky fellow will enjoy my company someday.  

If you walk into my kitchen and see flour everywhere and cookbooks scattered, you will know I am doing just fine.      

Call the wahmbulance

Tonight I received my first injury of culinary school.  The culprit: my vegetable peeler.  The scene: all hopped up on Monster I furiously peeled parsnips for a parsnip gratin.  Four parsnips down and on the last one it happened...  the top of my thumb nail and the top skin of my thumb fell victim to my peeler.  It trickled blood for about three minutes.  The rest of the class I had to wear a rubber glove which matched my plastic apron (I forgot my cloth one at home) wonderfully.


Without further ado.

2 big new things in a very short post.

1. I registered for my first big race... the Broad Street Run.  10 miles  eeek!   I'll be sure to update how training is coming along combined with school and work.
2. Tomorrow I will become a notary public.

Buenos noches.

Snowmageddon pictures

Sophie coming in from the snow.  We tried to take them to the park by the house not aware that the snow would be up to our knees.  I carried poor Soph almost the whole way home.

Macy and Sophie playing in the snow.  There weren't any cars on the road so we let them run in the street.  

I've never seen a dog love the snow as much as Macy.  Here is best friend/roommate throwing her snowballs to catch in the air.

The dogs playing in the snowy streets.

Snowmageddon... yes, they're calling it that.

Snowmageddon is really wreaking havoc on my school schedule.  Friday class was cancelled, tonight was cut short and tomorrow is cancelled.  Friday, for some reason, is being celebrated as President's day instead of Monday so I will not see a classroom for almost a week.  It is possible that my brain will explode in disbelief (and maybe even boredom.  I'm getting used to this go go go stuff.)

So, what's up with me?  Besides blizzard after blizzard, I did manage to make it to class last night.  A quiz was announced last week so naturally everyone had their notes open trying to cram every last potato/grain/rice/etc factoid in come Monday's class.  Chef walks in and starts the lecture.  An air of confusion fills the room and everyone remains silent.  Lecture continues.  Once prep and production started, so did the whispering.  "What happened to the quiz?"  "Do you think he forgot?" "Don't say anything!!!" (Directed at me.  Not sure if I'm flattered or offended.)   We all had an unspoken pact to not bring it up.  I felt pretty ready for it, however, I am a horrible test taker so definitely could have benefited from more studying.

Class came and went.  We made pasta dough using the well method which I have had a disastrous experience with in the past. There's photographic evidence... that kind of disaster.   To go along, we made pumpkin ravioli filling and pasta sauce; or as Chef calls it, "gravy."  Ugh gravy.  The simple word sends a chill down my spine.  Now, no offense to any "gravy" lovers out there but certain Italian-American-isms have always been a pet peeve of mine.  Not sure if it is from going to high school in "the tomato capital of the world," not an overabundance of tomato plants in sight mind you, or the arguments I would have with people that would try and convince me that "fungu" was the way to say a certain phrase similar to the one I will say to the snow I am going to have to shovel tomorrow (shaking fist towards sky... snowmageddon!!!) or the fact that my entire paternal side of the family lives in Rome (ciao ciao, se stai leggendo questo.) I spent most of my childhood back and forth between here and Italy so I take a certain pride in saying I am Italian.  When I hear "ay pisano" or see the "Italian princess" sticker on one's car even though they probably don't even have a passport, I just end up shaking my head.  I guess I should probably get off my high horse now.

Anyways, back to my point.  So the quiz.  Class came and went and still no quiz.  We're about to leave and we hear "ok, so tomorrow... quiz."  Fine, another night to study.  Fast forward to today.  We receive our quizzes and begin.  I scan over it answering the ones I know right off the bat and as I continue through the quiz, panic sets in.  The quiz was on all of the pasta information we had learned the night prior.  Yes, we should be prepared and know about it but when someone tells you to study for X,Y, & Z   you probably wouldn't study C.  So I answered the questions the best I could and sulked for about 15 minutes before bringing it up to Chef.  He was pretty understanding about it and told the class not to stress over it and we'll see how everyone did and take it from there.  I felt a bit better and the pasta we got to eat for dinner in class rid me of any remaining bad mood.  Class let out early due to the snow and the closure of Philadelphia more or less so it's back home to my best friend/roommate, my dog Sophie and the coziness of my couch which I have been missing.

Time to sit back and enjoy SNOWMAGEDDON!  Sorry... it just cracks me up.

A new leaf.

If someone would have told me a while back that the stresses of my day would all go away as soon as I stepped into my classroom I would have thought they were absolutely insane.  I've never been one to look forward to class, to study hard for tests, to speak up, etc etc.  Now I am sitting in my room, about to study while my roommates are laughing at one of my favorite shows.  I've always been an average student; straight Cs.  The other night some of my classmates were joking around about how they wouldn't mind if they got their quiz grades next year as opposed to me who wanted it five minutes after I handed it in.  (85 and 81, by the way.  Not the greatest, but a good stepping stone.  Go positive attitude!)  They said I seem like the girl who strives to be in the top of the class, who would kill someone to get to be the best (I wouldn't say I'd go that far.)  My roommate asked me if I was like Hermoine when the teacher asks a question - Harry Potter reference, always the first one with her hand up.

It's weird being the smart kid.  And I like it.

A fellow student waiting for class to start.  

I snuck this photo in case you were interested in seeing 

what the classroom looks like.  Behind the metal tables are

a row of stoves.  Behind the whiteboards are all the sinks.

To the left and right are the refrigerators. 

"I hear ya. What else did your mother get you for Christmas?"

I need to start updating this more.  I'm starting to forget a lot of the things I want to write about since my days feel blended together.  

Anxiously awaiting my quiz results.  I am really hoping I did well; not even so much for my grades but just to get off on the right foot.  Also anxiously awaiting the scholarship results from the Food Network's contest.  $20K would really start my year off nicely.

So Friday we made chicken stock (aka white stock.)  Not too much exciting about that besides it's used in a lot of my favorite dishes.  Chef prepped us for our quiz and I tried to make a joke in class which totally backfired; I wanted to say "if you were an extra credit question..." and ended up saying "if you were an extra cwedit..." and burst out into laughter.  Then chef called me Elmer Fudd and continued on with the quiz review. Probably much funnier if you were there or know how socially awkward I am.

During clean-up my partner and I had to take the trash down to the dumpster and decided we would try and drive the freight elevator by ourselves for the first time.  Both of us had been in it before and always with someone else who was knowledgeable in its operation.  So we get in with our bag of chicken parts and other random trash, shut the doors, pull down the gate and head down.  All goes well until we reach the basement, pull up the gate and try to open the doors.  Yes, try.  The doors aren't budging and are only opening about an inch and a half.  So we look at each other, nervously giggle and try pulling them apart as hard as we can.  No luck.  We try to take it up to other floors to see if maybe it was just the basement.  No luck.  I figure eventually our class will notice we're not there and come and find us.  Wrong.  Then I thought, "well chef can be silly sometimes; maybe this is a joke."  So we drive it up to the floor of our class and open it up that inch and a half and start yelling for help.  No one is around.  I'm not sure if it was in my head or if it was my imagination since I am petrified of being trapped in an elevator but I would've bet money that thing was making noise and shaking.  My partner is playing it cool and I am taking my pulse because I was definitely in the midst of a panic attack.  I told him if there were a tarantula and Freddy Krugar in there with us it would officially be my worst nightmare. Finally someone walks by and gets chef.  Seconds later a bunch of our classmates are around the elevator saying "oohh someone's stuck?  Yeah, it's Raelynn.  Raelynn you're stuck in the elevator?"  to which I reply "I'm not alone" not for fear that they wouldn't know my partner was with me but for fear I my classmates would think I'm the idiot who got stuck in the elevator on my own.  I ask chef to tell my mother I love her and if we get hungry at least we have the chicken parts to survive on.  He tells us the maintenance man is on his way.  He shows up a few seconds later and instructs us to take the metal bar on the door of the elevator and push it up.  The door opens.  I thought "that's it?? You have to be freaking kidding me."  He rides with us down to the basement and says "this is your first quarter, isn't it?"  

I wonder how he knew.

3 parts oil. 1 part acid. 3 parts oil. 1 part acid.

It's crazy to me that I have been doing this for three weeks now.  I had my first two quizzes this week.  I think I did pretty well on the first quiz (culinary skills) the second (sanitation), not as well as I would have liked.  Chef took a quick look and thinks I got somewhere around an 81.  Not terrible, but not the greatest.  I made a really stupid mistake on boiling points (not the MTV show.)


I learned how to make mayonnaise and vinaigrette from scratch.  The mayo making process is pretty much the same as hollandaise with three major differences: you don't mix it over heat, you add oil as opposed to clarified butter and it kills your mixing arm.  If you didn't have muscles before making mayo, you surely will after.  Someone needs to tell Jillian Michaels that instead of doing curls with 3 pound weights, you can just make a few batches of mayo and burn about 400 calories.  There was not a dry forehead in that kitchen.  If you know me, you know I have the upper body strength of a 5 year old so, for me, this was pretty exhausting.  When I finally got it to the right consistency, I couldn't wait to try it. If you know me, you know I hate condiments with the exception of bbq sauce and hot sauce.  I thought it tasted like eggs + oil which meant I did it wrong.  A little lemon juice, some salt and more mixing and I had mayonnaise.


Vinaigrette was a bit more of a challenge.  I started by adding 3 oz of red wine vinegar to 1 oz of oil.  Wrong.  Added some shallots and a tablespoon of mustard.  Wrong.  I tasted it and it was awful.  Chef told me the ratio was wrong and now it is forever burned in my brain.  I fixed it by adding a bit more oil and more shallots to balance the overabundance of vinegar.  I still didn't like the finish product but I think it was just me.  Chef approved so it's fine by me.


10:30 came fast tonight and I have to hit the hay.  Trying out round 2 of "I'm going to get up at 5 a.m. and work on my fitness" since round 1 went much better than I had imagined.  I had a 3 p.m. slump but after a can of Monster I was ready to go.  I'm attempting the Broad Street Run this May so I basically have to go from not being able to run at all to running 10 miles.  I'm able to run for about 20 minutes straight at a 12 minute mile pace.  Hey, you have to start somewhere.

"o solo mio... i don't know the words"

So I'm not getting nearly as much exercise as I would like.  Chef has been said "you're not allowed to get sick."  Thinking about a new schedule: Rise at 5 to exercise, go to work until 5, class until 10, sleep, repeat.

Starting tomorrow.  We'll see how this goes.

"I'm going to start tap dancing if you look at me like a deer in headlights."

Week two:  Off on Monday due to Martin Luther King day so some friends and I went to Iron Chef Garces's restaurant Chifa for restaurant week.  Let me publicly profess my love for pork belly buns.  Amazing.  Something you need to try before you die... or at least before 2011.  Besides that we had various ceviches, vietnamese spring rolls, bbq ribs with daikon, pho (not a huge fan), chaufa rice, chifa mussels, and on and on.  The service was outstanding as was the atmosphere.  I'll definitely be back.

Tuesday was culinary skills class and we learned hollandaise sauce and the battering technique.  I was really nervous when we started the hollandaise and I heard chef telling everyone around me to throw theirs away for one reason or another: either the eggs started to cook or they added the butter too soon. He came up to me, took a look at my sauce and said "looking good, you can start adding your butter."  I smiled and said "yes chef" but inside I was like "yesssss!!!"  I added my butter, continued whisking until my arm was sore, baby burned my pinky (later chef laughed in my face about this) and called him over to see my finished product.  He dipped his spoon in and I did the same.  "What do you think" he asked.  Never having been a fan of condiments, I confessed that I was tasting this for the first time.  He explained how all of the flavors should come together as one and you shouldn't taste anything in particular.  I tasted butter.  He did too.  Added a few more drops of lemon juice to cancel that out and he tasted again.  "Perfect" he said.  I said "thank you, chef" but inside I was doing cartwheels.  As class went on we batonned some zucchini, battered and fried them.  I noticed all of my knife cuts took the longest, however a majority of them were the dimensions they were supposed to be.  *Note to self: work on speed.*  We cleaned up and class was over.

Now, my parking fiasco.  There are two garages next to the building.  One costs $8, the other $6.  We were told by a few professors and some signs around school to park in the $6 garage.  I noticed a sign saying they closed at 10 p.m. so I always chose to play it safe since class finishes at 10.  I asked one of the chef professors about the 10 p.m. closing time and he said they know many students park there and generally wait a bit longer for everyone to come out. I took my chances to save a few dollars and parked there.  I came out no later that 10:05 on Tuesday evening to a locked up garage and no employees in sight.  Lovely.  I weighed my options of what I could do.
A) take a $60 cab to the suburbs where I live.
B)  take a chance and check out the trains
C) ask my best friend/roommate to come and pick me up or
D) call one of my friends that live in the city to invite myself over for a slumber party.

A) I'm not Miss Moneybags so no.
B) I still have to get back to the city in the morning.  Hassle, so no.
C) I'd feel awful because she would be going to bed any minute plus I'd still have to trek back in the early morning.  No, again. so...
D) Friend 1 was mugged earlier that day and had a broken nose so I couldn't be heartless and ask to stay there. (she's recovering nicely if you're concerned.)  So Friend 2 wins.  Generously, he picked me up and inflated an air mattress.

I had a horrible night's sleep panicking about what's going to happen to my car, how much it's going to cost me and how tired I was going to sleep because I am spending too much time worrying when I should be sleeping.  6 a.m. came fast and my friend gave me a ride.  Luckily, my bill only came to $12.

Wednesday: A tired day at work came to a close and I drove to Culinary Science, Safety and Supervision.  I just refer to it as Sanitation since that's mainly what we discuss anyways.  The week prior we learned about all types of hazardous foods, foodborne illnesses and how our mothers tried to kills us by defrosting chicken on the counter tops.  This has made my new dinner diet of eat-in-the-car-on-the-way-to-school-sandwiches very difficult to stomach since a number of food borne illnesses can be obtained by deli meats. Listeriosis, staphylococcal gastroenteritis, and norovirus: I'm looking at you.  I was so skeeved out one night I had to throw it away.  Every time I would try and take a bite I would think of all these little micro-organisms in a Lysol commercial all over my food.  My best friend/roommate (a microbiologist) thinks my new bacteria obsession is hilarious since I have had no shame calling her a germaphobe in the past.  A trip to the grocery store today had me looking in the glass cases of chicken salads and ready-to-eat foods with a shudder.

Thursday: night off.  Exercise + actual dinner + clean hair + reading = a happy culinary student.

Friday: Use and apps.  We made brown stock tonight which was much easier than expected. I did something a bit cutthroat which I feel a bit ambivalent about.  On one hand, I am trying to be the best and looking out for number one. On the other, this is school and we're here to learn.  The moral dilemma continues.

Two quizzes next week.  These will be the first tests I have taken since sometime in May of 2006.  Here's hoping for good grades.

Not sure if anyone is reading this, but if you are ... thank you.

"If you ask me what you missed in class my response will be 'a good time.'"

Week one:  It finally arrived.  Weird to think back in October I was nice and cozy in my job as an office manager until I hung up the phone one Friday afternoon semi-unemployed.  I never saw it coming.  After a minor freakout and a weekend of thinking about what this meant, I decided to go to culinary school.  It was always one of those things that I thought would be pretty great, but would never actually happen.  My partial unemployment became a blessing in disguise.  I made a few appointments at local colleges, took tours, did my research and started the application process for the Art Institute of Philadelphia's culinary arts program.  Since I have a Bachelor's degree I was automatically accepted and would begin class on January 11th... just about a week ago.

Week one came and went. Up this quarter: Culinary skills I, Safety and Sanitation, and Use and Applications of Equipment. We went over the syllabi, checked out our knife kits, and got to work. I learned bâtonnet, brunoise (my personal favorite), julienne and the dices amongst others.  I assigned myself some homework of practicing the different cuts so I would be prepared for the following class. I also learned that I would look ridiculous if I wore my hat this way to class.

The hardest part so far is sleep... or lack thereof.  Besides the part time office manager gig, I also do a similar job at a law firm.  I switch on and off days between the two and attend school from 6-10. My awesome friends/roommates welcomed me home one night with a packed lunch, a really nice card and 4-pack of much needed Monster.  I'm pretty sure it will get easier once I am used to it.

Week two is coming to an end.  What's to follow: hollandaise sauce, how my sanitation class is freaking me out, a parking fiasco and my first attempt at making stock.