Thursday, February 24, 2011

Dough-verload (GCCS - Day 8)

Biscotti.  Buttermilk biscuits.  Pie crusts.  Focaccia.  Brioche.  Spicy crackers.

I feel like I've been covered in flour, sugar, and water all day. 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

I think I'm paranoid

GCCS - Day 7

Attending Giant Corporate Cooking School is making me fat and paranoid.  Fat because I routinely eat what I make in class for breakfast, which has been cookies, cookies, cookies.  I am getting fucking sick of cookies - and yet I keep eating them.  I am hereby making a new rule: no cookies for breakfast.  For at least a week.

I don't mean for it to happen that way, but 3:30 is early.  And I'm not so hot in the mornings.  It's amazing I remember to put on pants, you think I'm going to eat breakfast?  By the time class is over, I've been awake for six hours and have probably only had some water.  It leads to a nasty habit of me diving head first into whatever it is I've created and emerging minutes later covered in crumbs with my eyes glazing over.  The sugar rush is pretty short lived and this might explain my narcoleptic tendencies.

Paranoid because I'm also taking a food safety and sanitation class.  Apparently no amount of hand-washing will ever be enough and no contaminate is too unlikely.  Do you even want to know the amount of neurotoxins you can get from shellfish?  How many bacteria (or as Louis Pasteur would say "wee beasties") there are in the world?

It's beginning to have the opposite affect on me.  I want to drop food on the floor and eat it, go to a C rated restaurant and dig in, visit Mexico just to chug the water.  We've made ourselves too safe - time to tempt fate and strengthen my immune system.

Maybe I just really need sleep.  And a more regular schedule.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

GCCS - Day 6

It's the start of the second week at the Giant Corporate Cooking School.  The three day weekend was nice (yay dead presidents, more of you should set up camp in my bank account) but it really only served to completely throw my schedule off yet again.  I came home and passed out.  3:30 in the morning is early people.

But I would like to take this moment to introduce you to my new special friend:

Ladies and gentlemen, please meet Jaws, my chef's knife.

Why Jaws?  Because everytime he's around there's bloodshed.  (I tried really, really hard to get a picture of the damage, but I couldn't do it justice.  Suffice it to say I have not one but two gaping holes in my fingers right now.)  He is the reason I've gone through an entire box of bandaids in a week and become familiar with ways to keep whites white.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Published.

Oh what's this?  I'm just gonna leave it right here.

http://www.creators.com/lifestylefeatures/travel/travel-and-adventure.html

It's like I'm a real writer or something.

GCCS - Day 5

Week one - done.  35 weeks to go.

(Am I the only one who thinks the fact that it's a 9 month/36 week program is funny?  It's like being pregnant.  I'm having a food baby.  For realz.)

Thursday, February 17, 2011

GCCS - Day 4

It's been a long day, but a good one.  I managed to get to school on time (yay me!), thereby not angering Chef from the get-go.  I cut my middle finger pad and it hurts to type, the cat is vying for lap space with my computer and my 3:30 am wake-up time looms ever nearer.  It's time for bed.

I am officially lame.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

GCCS - Day 3

Apparently telling a chef your name is Jezebel when it isn't will get you reprimanded at Giant Corporate Cooking School.  Hey, just because it's not on my birth certificate doesn't mean I haven't answered to it.

Also, being two minutes late will get you yelled at, which I do think is fair.  I grew up with an Army dad, being on time means being 15 minutes early.

The similarities between being in the military and being a student at GCCS are numerous.  Every grunt in uniform, everyone the same.  No excuses, no explanations, no questioning or second guessing the chef.  Do what you're told.  No guns, but we do have access to lots and lots of knives.  You're already doing it wrong, you imbecile.  And you will never get it right.

So like the military, I guess their goal is to break me down and then build me back up into their version of a perfect kitchen drone.

I think my goal now is to succeed in spite of GCCS.

Also, I fucking hate cravats.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

GCCS - Day 2

6am is EARLY.  Having to be somewhere and functional means I have to get up even earlier.

So of course I walked in wholly unprepared.  I was physically there and dressed in the appropriate uniform, but had no idea what had been covered the day before, what we were supposed to be doing today, or anything else.

There are two chef instructors in my first class and one of them reminds me of Senior Chang from Community.  The other has an indistinct European accent (French? Dutch?).  They both don't seem to take themselves too seriously but are quite serious about cleanliness and proper technique.  I can get behind that.  They demoed linzer cookie dough and then we had to make it in teams.  It was just like the first day at the other cooking school, everyone nervously checking their recipes, running back to the ingredient table multiple times, looking around confused and helpless.  Chef NotChang walked down the aisle, sniffed the air, and said "I can smell your fear."  I thought it was funny.

Next we made chocolate chip cookie dough.  The cookies will actually bake tomorrow.  At least I figured out how to get the recipes and found the homework, so I should be better prepared.

There are more people in the class than I thought, around 25.  That may not seem like a lot in a lecture style classroom, but when you factor in people running for ingredients, the sound of mixers, running water, checking the ovens, taking up space in the sink, it's hectic.  Some of them seem really young.  Some of them seem really dumb.

The other class I'm taking is the sanitation and safety class aka the Fucking D'uh class.  Wash fruits and veggies before you cut them up!  Don't use the same knife to cut up meat and veggies!  Wash your hands!  Don't sneeze on the food!

There's also the temperature danger zone we're constantly being warned about (anything warmer than 41 degrees fahrenheit and less than 135 degrees).  Every time I hear that phrase I think of this:


I suppose, in a way, it's strangely appropriate.

Monday, February 14, 2011

GCCS - Day 1

So today was my first day at what shall hereforeto be referred to as the Giant Corporate Cooking School (or GCCS for short).  But let's back up a hot second, okay?

I realize that the posts have been a bit piecemeal and lack an overall narrative.  I figure no one is reading them or the few people who are can just call me on the phone and say "what the fuck?"  But let's for a moment assume that other people start reading this blog, people who don't know me and have no idea what's going on.  Or more realistically, what if I get amnesia and have to refer to it to remember what happened in my life?

Anyway, for the sake of clarity, let me give a quick explanation of this year so far.  January:  I realize I cannot keep living the way I have been, decide to pursue my passion for baking by taking a once a week pro baking class at a local school, give my two weeks notice at my day job, and then decide to go to a full time professional program at GCCS.  February:  I throw a great birthday party, my computer dies epically, I go to Vegas for the first time ever, and classes start at the GCCS.  Okay, we all up to speed?  Moving on.

As for today... well, it can only get better.  I hope.  I have been stupidly excited about the prospect of going to school and so I got there extra early, or so I thought.  Come to find out, I was actually about 6 hours late because apparently my classes start at 6am, not 2pm.  And the clusterfuckery just grew from there.  The entire experience left me angry, dispirited, and pretty sure I've made a $30k mistake.  AND IT'S ONLY THE FIRST DAY.

Did I learn anything?  Yeah don't cut raw meat and then vegetables on the same cutting board.  That's what a $30k culinary education teaches you kids!  Aren't you glad I'm here to pass on the info?

This isn't all there is, right?  It will get better?  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?

Let's focus on something a bit more positive: some of the stuff I ate in Vegas!

Bouchon.  Fuck yeah.   The trout was perfection.  My only regret?  That I didn't eat the eyes.  Because, hey, why not?

Even their fries *ahem*, sorry their pommes frites were smack yer momma good.

And then there was that deep fried twinkie on Fremont St.  Let's not talk about it, okay?

Did you know there's an In-N-Out University?  I can't make that up:

So I guess if things don't work out at GCCS, then there are other options...


Friday, February 11, 2011

Some thoughts on Vegas

What can I possibly say about Las Vegas that hasn't already been covered to death in pop culture?  It is a place that exists solely to make one meditate on life, the human condition, and the $4.99 steak dinner.  Yeah, there's not much new I can add to the conversation and who wants to rehash the old when so many others have done it so much better?   But here are a couple of observations I have from Sin City:

-Youth of Vegas, you cannot be a gutterpunk with an iPhone.  It matters not how many Dead Kennedy, D.O.A., and Black Flag patches you've crammed onto a beat leather jacket, nor how tight your pants are.  The iPhone immediately cancels any street punk cred you thought you had.  Now go home to your McMansion and your feuding parents and leave me alone.

-Either the people here are exceptionally complimentary or my decades of clean living and daily sunscreen application are paying off because no one believes I'm 32.  When I was in my early 20s, everyone thought I was older and now I get carded to go on a timeshare sales pitch - where you have to be at least 25.  I think I look older than 25.  Maybe everyone else is just drunk.

-What has been done to the food that it is so cheap and plentiful here?  I'm morbidly curious and terrified to know.

-Seeing the parade of humanity pass by on the strip has alternately made me feel exceptionally attractive and hopelessly untrendy.  I can live with my non-trendy ways.  Thanks for the ego boost Vegas!

-Everyone shakes their ass to Cee Lo's "Fuck You" because that song is a masterpiece of booty bouncing beats.  Also, nearly everyone looks silly but happy when they do it.



I mean, how can you not?

On that note, I'm off.  Time to dig deeper, drink more, and convince someone to gamble on my behalf.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

In the Beginning (Rebirth of the Cool)

It happened.  Something I've always suspected would happen finally did.

My computer crashed.  Spectacularly. 

It crashed so hard, no data could be recovered from the crashed hard drive.  This is where you ask me if I backed up.  And this is where I shamefully hang my head and say no.  I have a Mac, Macs aren't supposed to do that (meanwhile, my six year old PC booted up like a champ).  Projects I had started, half finished screenplays, notes, digital files, iTunes, my resume - gone.  GONE.

My computer is my lifeline.  I'm sure that's the way anyone without a TV, DVD player, stereo, or a home phone feels.  I do all of that through my computer.  And when I get it back, with its new heart, it won't have any memory of anything I've done.  It will be entirely blank.

There's something strangely poetic about the computer crashing and losing everything on my birthday.  I could cry, be upset, pout, be surly, or any other number of things but there's no point.  It's vanished into a great electrical ether.  No amount of teeth gnashing or breast beating is bringing it back.  So I'm letting it go.  I'm not holding on, remembering what I won't have, I'm feeling liberated by what won't be weighing me down.

It feels like a fortuitous way to start the year.

Monday, February 7, 2011

A post in which I am honestly sincere

This is what perfect happiness looks like.

It should be noted that perfect happiness is not a reflection on a perfect life.  I'm pretty sure in my "perfect" life I would be at least 20 pounds lighter and probably employed.  Yeah, I quit (I QUIT) my job.  In this economy.  To go to culinary school full-time.  I am turning 32 on February 8th, acquiring 30k in debt and am not only unemployed but perhaps unemployable at this point.

But you know what?  I like getting older.  Because the perspective I've gained far outweighs anything I've lost.  Happiness is fleeting.  You just have to ride that wave when you catch it.

I think I'm finally beginning to understand.  When I was younger, it was a constant deferment:  I will be an adult once X, Y, and Z happens.  I will be happy then too. 

It's a lie.  No accomplishment will make you feel worthy or comfortable in your own skin.  That's just something I've learned how to do by fucking up.  A lot.  And fucking up takes time, you can't rush a good fuck up!  Sometimes it's years in the making.

I want to stay away from saying I've finally found the "right" path.  Because that's bullshit too.  I am doing something I love and enjoy but I reserve the right to move on to other things I love and enjoy.  Truthfully, I'm a little scared to tell everyone how good I feel.  I don't  know if they'd believe me -it may not even be legal to feel this good.

I'm essentially broke.  I'm single.  Unemployed.  Uninsured.  I have no assets.  I am the unamerican dream incarnate.  But I have never been happier. 

The photos were taken at my Zombie VooDoo Cajun Birthday Celebration (tm).

Friday, February 4, 2011

Decadence

A friend asked me the other day if I noticed a big difference between the way my stuff turns out in school and the way the chef's turns out.  Actually no, there's not that much difference in the way things taste and I don't think it's because of my mad kitchen kung-fu.  I think it's because the recipes we are given have been so thoroughly tested and refined that you really can't screw them up.  So unless you switch the baking soda for baking powder (*cough* *cough* *ahem*), the recipe will turn out delicious.

What difference I really hone in on is how incredibly skilled Chef is in the kitchen.  Granted this woman has been cooking professionally for more than 20 years, so every every chop, slice, mix, and pour is just second nature to her.  What she's doing is so ingrained, it's like watching a well choreographed dance.  I aspire to that.

Yesterday was chocolate day.  Sample seven different chocolates?  Don't mind if I do.  Learn how to make buttermilk chocolate cupcakes and chocolate decadence cake?  Yes, please.

I also finally found the hot dog truck that camps out near the school.  All natural, grass fed beef hotdog for lunch?  Do you even have to ask?  Of course I ate one.  Seeing me chow down, one of my classmates commented "Hotdogs and cupcakes in one day?  I don't think I can be that decadent."  No worries, honey.  I've got it covered for both of us.

I haven't really talked about school and what's going on, but suffice it to say I love it and the Chef is amazing.  That she has an off the wall sense of humor and looks like Jane Lynch is a total bonus.

As I was walking back to my seat, post hotdog, I passed her as she was testing her cupcakes.

"Eat this!"  she admonished and handed me half a cupcake.  The two of us stood there, groaning with pleasure and savoring every decadent bite.