Honest advice to a budding cook/ chef with no experience whatsoever

This is a slightly altered version of a real email that I wrote to a young man who found my blog and is considering culinary school, but had no real experience cooking. He wrote me that he was intrigued by cooking, and I thought it pertinent to share this advice with a wider audience. I get the "should I go to culinary school?" question all the time, and I think it really depends on your situation, but the following is the advice I give to anyone who is considering culinary school without some background in restaurants.

Hey ****!

I can definitely relate, as it took me about 5 years of waffling back and forth before I finally decided to go to culinary school. I checked out FCI, ICE, CIA Hyde, J&W in various locations, AI in various locations, CCA, CSCA, and Western Culinary before deciding on OCI. Let me go ahead and squash your concerns about not being good enough for culinary school, because I didn't know shit about cooking besides what I had learned as a hobbyist cook and food geek, and most of the people around me at school knew even less. Now that I'm on the other side of it and have been cooking professionally for about 6 years, I feel that if I had to do it all over again, I would still go to culinary school, but I'm glad I had some restaurant experience before I went, and that's my advice to you if you want to know whether or not your cut out for this industry: GET SOME RESTAURANT EXPERIENCE.

Books/magazines/websites can supplement your education, but real learning comes from doing, and doing things over and over and over and over again until it's muscle memory and/or intuition. You will do this at culinary school to an extent, but I think it's best to know before you make that career move and investment. Is there a place in your town you can go in and do prep when you're not in school? Even a little family-run diner that does things from scratch will be able to show you the inner workings of a restaurant. If you're lucky and there's a nice-ish restaurant nearby, see if you can get a weekly stage (stage= French word for unpaid trial period). A lot of cooks and chefs do stages in other restaurants to expand their horizons. If you can go into a restaurant, offer your services one or two days a week for free (Saturday mornings/afternoons are great, as most restaurants need extra hands for prepping Saturday night service), and just be their yes man for a few weeks/months, you will learn A LOT. Even if it's just for one night. Most of all, you will see what it's like in real life, and whether or not you're really cut out for this line of work/life. And also whether or not you want to invest in culinary school.

Cooking in a professional kitchen is nothing at all like cooking for your family or what you see in cooking shows; For the first few years of pro cooking especially, it's a lot of hard work for little pay, not seeing your non-restaurant friends or family, not getting "normal" days off, and simply following orders ("Yes Chef!"). You're cooking other people's recipes and menus, and you're doing it their way, and your doing the same thing over and over, night after night. You're paying your dues and building your foundation. You're not exercising your creativity, and you're not writing menus and coming up with dishes. You're lucky to have an idea of yours show up on a menu in your first three to five years of cooking--I still remember the day I got an oyster mignonette on the menu, almost a year into my first job. I felt like I climbed a mountain. I didn't get anything else on a menu for another 2 years, when my chef was stuck in NY during a snowstorm and the sous asked me to come up with a pasta special for just that night. One menu item and one sauce in my first three years, out of hundreds of menu items I cooked. You're burning/cutting/breaking yourself in new and weird ways, and you're eating irregularly at best. You burn shit and your chef gets pissed and you feel worse than you ever have, until you fuck up that other thing and your sous almost beats your ass. You're really tired and you eat Hot Pockets for dinner after service at 1AM because you don't have the energy to cook for yourself after cooking all day.

BUT! If you have the "it", the X-factor, the thing that lives in us crazy cooks and chefs that forces you night after night to work your ass off and do better than you did before and want to be better for your Chef and want to be better for all your coworkers, you will thrive in this environment. You will soak it up like a sponge, and question every technique and every step, even as you're doing things the way you've been taught. You want to know the "why" of it all, and you'll start to figure out the "why" that makes the most sense to you. You're okay knowing that your cooking job will not make you wealthy, unless you luck into a high-paying corporate gig that somehow doesn't suck your soul.

All this said, I really loved and cherished my time at OCI, and I would definitely do it all over again if I had the chance. So much of your success in culinary school is dependent on the work you put into it-- you get out of it what you put into it, really and truly. I showed up early and stayed late every day; I turned in every assignment on time; I did all the extra credit and volunteered for all the off-site events; I asked every single instructor every stupid question I could think of. It's a really safe and fun place to learn, and of all the culinary schools out there, OCI does the best job of putting the "real world" of cooking into perspective--you're doing tons of knife work and kitchen techniques daily. But there's also a ton of culinary math and exams and book knowledge that you must know to pass, and I swear it's vital further down the line. As a chef currently I'm constantly swimming in spreadsheets and numbers, and my Harold McGee is never too far away.

Speaking of which, I know you asked for some book/reading recommendations, to which I will recommend:

- On Food and Cooking, Harold McGee. This is the driest reading of all time but it's a great reference when you want to know why meat turns brown and crispy, and what the difference is exactly between a poach and a sear.

- Any cookbook by James Peterson. He does a great job with explaining history of food, and his basics are always solid.

- Joe Beef cookbook. One of my favorites in the last year, reads like a novel in some ways.

- Julia and Jacques Cooking At Home. This was the first cookbook I ever read that really imprinted in me the idea that there's more than one way to do things "right" when it comes to cooking.

God there are so many other cookbooks I could recommend... The French Laundry, River Cottage, Zuni Cafe, Baking Illustrated, Fat Duck, even Joy of Cooking. Get thee to a bookstore and sit your ass in the cookbooks section for a good long while.

- http://linecook415.blogspot.com/ The blog of Richie Nakano, current chef of Hapa Ramen in SF. Specifically his blog entries from 2007-2009, while he was sous chef at NoPa. They're gut-wrenchingly accurate tales from line cooking, and really rung true to me in my first few years of cooking.

- http://eggbeater.typepad.com/ . The blog of Shuna Lydon, NYC pastry chef. She has some really good advice to starting cooks or people looking to dabble in professional cooking. Good place to start is here: http://eggbeater.typepad.com/shuna/so-you-want-to-be-a-chef-.html

- Ideas in Food: http://blog.ideasinfood.com/ . I'll be honest, I don't read this frequently but a lot of cooks I know do and have found it insightful.

- The Food Lab at Serious Eats: http://www.seriouseats.com/the-food-lab/?ref=nav_main

- Lucky Peach Magazine. The only paper magazine I subscribe to.

So that's probably either way too much information or not at all the answer you were hoping for, but I hope I was able to help in some small way. Good luck with whatever you decide, and there's a great farmer's market at the PSU park blocks every Saturday from March-December :). Let me know if you have other questions.

Cheers,
Ingrid

Burnwatch 2009

I realized it's been a while since I posted photos of my current burns. As of today:





As you can see, I've definitely welcomed some good ones to the family. I get a lot of "Oh, Ingrid... poor girl!" kind of reactions when my friends see my burns, but they really only hurt for the first few hours. The only one in which I actually feel any pain currently (and only when I touch it) is the pinkish one on my inner right arm, which is a recovering blister from stray fat that came from searing off a lamb rack. I wasn't even shaking the pan or anything; I was turning the rack with my tongs and a pocket of fat in the lamb popped out.

Note the ones on and near my knuckles on my right hand--that's a first.

Also a first: My face! WTF?!



Yes, it's tiny (the dark spot on my cheek near my earlobe), but I never thought my face would be part of the action. Lesson learned: Do not lean too close to an active pan on the stove when pulling things out of the oven.

Speaking of things I've learned...

1. See above.

2. Clean clean clean clean clean. Work clean!

3. Try not to get roped into kitchen work while wearing 3-inch heels. It's doable, but precarious, to say the least.

4. Due to a series of recent occurrences, I've been reflecting on my time at OCI quite a bit, and still have no regrets or qualms about attending culinary school, even though a majority of cooks have not gone to culinary school. I definitely get my fair share of shit from cooks for having spent the money on "food college", but I made the right decision for me, and it was the platform I needed to head down this path. A more in depth post about culinary school is in the works.

5. Confidence in the kitchen and in your abilities is essential. ESSENTIAL. I did my first solo Saturday night on grill station last weekend, and after a rough couple of days last week, I came into work Saturday with the mindset that I know I can do this right, not letting that itchy doubt linger in the back of my head. Not that you have time to linger on any particular thought during a busy service; you just do it. I went into service feeling prepared and confident, and we knocked out some pretty fine lookin' plates. It wasn't hitch-less, per se, but pretty smooth for my first solo Saturday.

Bonus Thing I Learned: The chorus from "Electric Feel" by MGMT is a great song to have in your head during service. Other songs I've had stuck in my head during service recently: "The World is Yours" by NaS and "Get Money" by Junior M.A.F.I.A. (featuring Notorious B.I.G., of course). I've been on a crazy Biggie kick for the past few months.

Last day of school

I completed my last day at Oregon Culinary Institute yesterday. Technically speaking I don't graduate until I've completed 360 hours at my externship site, which I'm doing at my current workplace over the next two months. However, the days of donning the school uniform and being under the daily guidance of my chef instructors are over.

I have to admit that when I woke up late this morning, I was feeling a little lost and confused. Has six months really flown by that fast? I thought I was looking forward to being done with this crazy schedule of full-time-school-full-time-work, but now that I am, something seems off. It seemed like all of the sudden it just stopped.

But the key thing here is it doesn't stop, actually; like one of the chef instructors said to us yesterday, our first step in our education is complete, and now the real education begins, especially for those stepping into the industry for the first time. I found this to ring very true when I started at my restaurant, and though I'm a bit sad to be leaving school, I'm excited to be able to focus my energy solely on improving my skills, techniques and speed at work.

Speaking of which I'm heading off, but (as always) I have a lot more on my mind. Now that I'll have a little more time on my hands, hopefully I'll actually get around to blogging in a timely manner.

Catching up

It's been far too long since I've written, and it's not for lack of interesting goings-on in my life. In fact, things are going even faster at work and at school now that I'm having difficulty finding the time to just sit down and write for longer than two minutes. Now that we're in the restaurant full time at school (with no class lecture), I'm currently doing between 65 and 75 hours a week on my feet between work and school, and somehow I still don't feel like I'm working hard enough. I think it's because with something like cooking the amount of knowledge and skill you can gain is endless. It's a great motivator for me, especially when I'm surrounded by people who are so much more skilled and experienced than myself, but it can lead to frustration for me as my nature is to want to know everything and to be really good at everything right off the bat. Unrealistic, I know. So sue me.

On the upside though, the biggest news in my life recently, besides moving into the OCI restaurant, is that I'm currently training to move up to the hot line from pantry at my restaurant. I got the news about a month ago that my exec and sous wanted to start training me on the hot line. This initially struck me as absolutely bonkers as I've never cooked anything to temperature order prior to culinary school, and everything at my restaurant that can be cooked to temp order is: scallops, game birds, fish, steak, pork, everything. Add on the plating sets ("set" = the other stuff that goes on the plate) and it's the ultimate in multi-tasking. There's no doubt that things can get hairy on the hot line, and it's a lot of pressure. I'll admit I was slightly scared and a bit timid about the step up, but after a few weeks I'm feeling pretty confident that I can "handle the heat," as they say.

I have a billion observations, updates and news items I want to share, but sleep is calling for now. I'll get to them sooner than later, I promise.

The Omnivore's Hundred, or 100 foods you should eat

I first saw this list on the beloved food blog (and one of my favorites) Chocolate and Zucchini. Andrew Wheeler, co-author of the blog Very Good Taste, came up with what he calls The Omnivore's Hundred, or a list of foods that, in his own words, "every good omnivore should have tried at least once in their life." With this list, he suggested the following rules:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

Below are my results, with my commentary in parentheses. I've added an asterisk (*) to the items I've made or cooked with myself. A lot of those items are thanks to culinary school and my work as well. I suggest visiting VGT's original post or Chocolate and Zucchini's posting of the list because they took the time to link a lot of the less well-known items to Wikipedia, something I would have done as well but am too lazy to do. Heh.

1. Venison*
2. Nettle tea (Like C&Z, I've had nettle soup, but not tea)
3. Huevos rancheros*
4. Steak tartare*
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding (AKA blood sausage)
7. Cheese fondue*
8. Carp*
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush*
11. Calamari*
12. Pho (Yes please!!)
13. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich*
14. Aloo gobi*
15. Hot dog from a street cart (Boy do I miss ghetto dogs in LA...)
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle*
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes (berry wine)
19. Steamed pork buns (Surprised I haven't made these yet...)
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes* (One of my favorite foods of all time)
22. Fresh wild berries* (Ditto #21)
23. Foie gras*
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters* (I've gotten my shucking + cleaning time for oysters on the half-shell down to under 10 seconds per oyster from start to plate. On a good day. With cooperative oysters.)
29. Baklava*
30. Bagna cauda (Sounds intriguing)
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl* (Is there anything better on a freezing cold day? Also, anyone have a favorite bowl in Portland?)
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut*
35. Root beer float*
36. Cognac with a fat cigar (Yes cognac, but not with a cigar)
37. Clotted cream tea (This might be at the top of my list to try)
38. Vodka jelly* (AKA Jell-O shots to us 'Mericans)
39. Gumbo*
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (Somehow surprised that I haven't tried this yet)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu (Not itching to try it, but I wouldn't rule it out entirely)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel*
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (How can you not when you grow up next to the hometown of Krispy Kreme?)
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer* (Made this for the first time in school... much easier to produce than expected)
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal (I crossed this out because the last time I had a Big Mac, I nearly got sick just staring at the gray meat and I was henceforth determined to never eat a Big Mac ever again)
56. Spaetzle*
57. Dirty gin martini*
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine (Fries with cheese curds? Why have I not tried these?!?)
60. Carob chips*
61. S’mores*
62. Sweetbreads*
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs*
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (I'll eat and enjoy pretty much any form of fried dough)
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain*
70. Chitterlings or andouillette*
71. Gazpacho*
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill (Not dying to try this, but wouldn't say no)
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail* (White wine, lemon, parsley and garlic is the way to go)
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum (Would like to make this sometime)
82. Eggs Benedict* (My Hollandaise skills are getting pretty good)
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare*
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse (Hell to the no. There's something very wrong with this, and I love me some meat)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam*
92. Soft shell crab*
93. Rose harissa (Sounds awesome)
94. Catfish*
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox*
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta* (This is my go-to starch for black box exams)
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

If I counted correctly, I'm missing 23 foods on this list. And of the 38 foods I've cooked myself, nearly half of them are foods I've cooked for the first time in the past five months (since I started culinary school and working at the restaurant). I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I think it's pretty awesome that I've had so much exposure to such interesting ingredients and recipes because of school and work.

Now I gotta get on that clotted cream tea...

Ups and downs

I guess every day can't be as spectacular and mellow as cooking under blue skies in vineyards.

I'll just get to it: I kind of sucked at work today.

We had a party with 20 guests, which I can usually handle alright on a typical Monday. Today, however, was not a typical Monday. The number of covers we did tonight was more typical of a Thursday or Friday, so on top of having my station and the pastry station to myself, we were slammed in the dining room. I was totally underprepped, and even though we were busier than usual, I simply wasn't on top of my game.

I have to admit that I'm totally disappointed in myself, especially because my personal standards are so high. But what's worse is I feel like I've let down my chef, with whom I just had a great conversation last weekend about how well I've been doing and my future at the restaurant.

I guess we all get knocked off our high horses every now and then. I just have to get back to kick-ass mode, starting tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, Term 3 for me at OCI officially starts tomorrow morning, bright and early at 7:30AM. We're moving into the phase where we'll be working in the OCI restaurant, as well as doing courses on restaurant management. I'm looking forward to this term, and I'm not scared to get into the restaurant since I'm already in a real working environment. But I have a feeling that it'll be strenuous, not to mention the early mornings... Power naps and I are going to be good friends for the next two months.

I'll feel better once I get some sleep, I know it... but I'm turning that kick ass dial back up to 11.

Work and school: The how and the why

scallops at Le Pigeon*

I'll be honest: If you asked me in March if I thought I'd be working in a restaurant kitchen in a few months time, I'd have told you, "You so crazy." In fact, four months ago, the thought of working in any professional kitchen, not to mention that of a high-end restaurant, frankly scared the shit out of me. Even starting culinary school and being surrounded by the endlessness of stainless steel was highly intimidating. I couldn't imagine how we'd get to the point where we would be cooking for the public in the open kitchen of the OCI restaurant (which is coming up for me in a few weeks).

Funnily enough, one of the most surprising things about my new job is how comfortable I feel in the kitchen, putting out food for which people are paying not a little money. I have a desire to know more, to get better, to get faster, to hone my skills. I've been bitten by the bug, as Chef Wilke put it, and it just keeps spreading.

With everything that I'm learning at work, I'll admit that it's crossed my mind to quit school altogether and focus entirely on with my job. I mean, what's the point of being in school if I'm learning so much AND getting paid to do it, right?

I've been pondering this quite a bit, and as we're nearing the end of Term 2 at OCI, I find myself wandering the hallways at school and thinking, "I can't leave this. I'd be missing way too much." School and work are symbiotic; both are feeding off the other, and both are helping to narrow my focus a lot. I thought it might be the reverse, where I'd be spreading myself way too thin, but work and school together has only made me that much more driven.

It really comes down to this: I learn how to do things at work, but I learn why I do those things at school.

Don't get me wrong; my chefs and coworkers at my restaurant are wicked smart and highly knowledgeable, and most of them didn't go to culinary school. The combined experience of the 10 or so people in the back of the house is kind of staggering. But as a rookie with very little formal kitchen experience, I find there are definitely times where I feel happy that I did my reading homework about varieties of heat transfer or the properties of salt or mollusk physiology. I'm shucking oysters at work, but only after we discussed shellfish anatomy in lecture did I begin to think, 'Maybe I should be cutting out the abductor muscle on the larger oysters to make it a more pleasant eating experience.'

Thanks to school, when I'm plating a dish at work and it tastes funny or looks wrong, I'm better at intuiting what needs to be done. I don't always get it right, but I feel more comfortable making decisions. More height, more salt, more vinegar, more color: all those things didn't mean jack to me before we filled out the endless amounts of recipe analysis sheets in Term 1. On these sheets, we were to describe every minute detail of every element of a dish. What is the sugar's purpose in the vinaigrette? What texture does a radish have in a salad? What color does the asparagus lend to the soup? Does the lettuce add height?

At the same time, because of work, my school sensibilities are changing. The idea that we're selling food for money is smacking me pretty hard in the face now that I'm working in a "real world" setting. It's not enough to make food that makes someone say, "I'd eat that." It has to be "I'd shell out my hard-earned money to eat that" (bonus points for "on a regular basis"). It's the difference between home cooking and professional cooking, and that difference only hit me when I set foot into the restaurant I work at now. Every time I put up a plate to sell, I make sure it's something I would pay the money we charge for it. It might sound a bit crass, but it is an industry and it's how we make a living. We have fun and feel passion for it too, and I think that translates in the food.

Because I have the roots for those real-worldy business sensibilities now, I find that I approach plating dishes at school from an entirely different perspective. It can't just be pretty... it has to be appealing; appetite-whetting, if you will. Something that stops you in your tracks and makes you think, 'Wow, this is beautiful/different/interesting.' And for crap's sake, it has to taste good.

It's a fine balance, but I feel I'm doing pretty well, considering the hours and the circumstances. I hope it only continues to get better.

*I don't work at Le Pigeon; I am, however, very fond of their food.

Food Service Eyes

I know I haven't written a school-descriptive post recently, which I'll remedy soon, I promise. This little anecdote, however, might help explain my current state of mind:

I wandered into school this morning and sat down at a computer to type out our live fire project menu. Chef Wilke, my school's co-founder, who is always high energy and genuinely enthusiastic (I don't know how he does it--strong coffee is my guess), has taken to asking me how my new job is going every time I see him. It's pretty great, because he knows I'm doing full time school and work, and I truly believe he wants to see me succeed at both. He saw me and said, "Good morning Ingrid! How's work going?"

I looked up dazily and replied, "Oh, it's going really well, actually. We got totally slammed last night, which is weird for a Monday. But it was good, ya know..." I smiled a morning-weary smile, and he began to chuckle. He said to one of my instructors, "Hey Chef, check it out, Ingrid's beginning to get that 'food service' look in her eyes!" They both laughed, and he said to me, "You know, like I can tell you're still on top of it all, but you're looking about 18 inches past my head when you talk."

I couldn't help but laugh. That guy is always spot on, folks.

So that's about where I am right now. I'm doing some awesome stuff in school, last week was one of my favorite weeks so far (Fish! Crustaceans! Mollusks!), and I have photos to post, but I promise I'll get around to it soon.

Things you might or might not know about me, food edition

I'm stealing this idea from Internets uber-geek Sean Bonner, but I'm doing this foodie style. And instead of shooting for 100 things, I'll spare you all and cap the number at 28, which happens to be the number of years old I will be in a little over a month.

1. My favorite junk food (arguably of all time) is Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream Potato Chips.

2. I don't cook at home as much as I'd like to. I'll blame it on the fact that I have an electric range, but I know that's not entirely the case.

3. It's a point of pride for me to be a woman in a largely male-dominated field of cooks. Props to my guy friends for teasing me enough to know how to deal with a bunch of sarcastic, foulmouthed dudes.

4. I am very critical of myself in the kitchen (and elsewhere, but let's stick with food here). Any time I know I've messed up, I can always make myself feel worse about it than anyone else could.

5. Alternately, it makes me really, really happy when I do a good job. Seeing the looks on people's faces when they gobble up something I made and then passing plates around the table to share gives me such a sense of satisfaction, I remember why I'm doing this in the first place.

6. I am extremely competitive. Extremely.

7. The entirety of my college undergrad experience, I dreamed of waiting tables. I read this book and fantasized about being a server.

8. The first time I waited tables was for a restaurant owned by my aunt in Gastonia, NC. It was Sunday All-You-Can-Eat brunch, and NOT buffet style--customers ordered as much as they liked, finish the first round, ordered another round, finished that round, and on and on and on. I went back to my aunt's house after my first insane shift, called my mom and cried to her for an hour.

9. I love a bowl of hot soup on a hot day.

10. I love a bowl of hot soup basically anytime.

11. I once got into a serious argument with a previous boyfriend about the merits of soup.

12. I considered breaking up with said boyfriend over soup argument.

13. Every time I worked in a restaurant as a server or host, I made it a point to befriend the kitchen staff. I always asked a lot of questions about the food, as well as how they got started cooking, because I knew somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking about it myself. As a result, I got food easily fired on the fly, chatted up exec chefs about their farmer's market hauls of the morning, had plates especially made up for me to try (house-made pasta in anchovy and sage-infused olive oil with shaved truffles, anyone?), and even dated a couple of cooks.

14. I feel that I've "mastered" only a handful of dishes. I'm hoping to multiply that number within the next few months.

15. I'm self-conscious about trying my hand on the hot line at work.

16. I love that cooks talk about cooking when we're not at work.

17. I went through phase as a kid when all I wanted was some form of potato. I remember it being the first time I developed an interest in cooking.

18. I was a vegetarian once for eight months, nearly eight years ago. The first omnivorous meal I ate when I quit being vegetarian was a huge plate of sashimi.

19. I consider my personal kitchen to be very ill-equipt.

20. The only time I ever got upset at my former roomie (and still one of my best friends) when we lived together was when we were making dinner one night, and I turned to see her attempting to cut off a wire twist-tie on a bunch of spinach with my new Wustof Classic 8" chef's knife. I think she knows better now :).

21. I have doubts about my cooking skills, but I know I'm getting better.

22. Another point of pride for me: Kicking ass in culinary school.

23. I've been called "bossy" by some of my classmates, but, frankly, I don't mind.

24. I'm convinced my brother knows way more about food that I do. He's a bona fide gastronome. He definitely knows more about wine than I think I ever will.

25. I am not particularly good at cooking the cuisine of my home country, and hope I will get better at it because I gots a cravin', and there's very little Taiwanese food to be found in Portland. Plus I'd like to cook some of these meals for my future family.

26. Thanks to school and work, my hands and feet look like they belong to a marathon-running auto mechanic.

27. I remember the exact moment when it struck me that I wanted to pursue a career in food: At Coastal Kitchen in Capitol Hill, Seattle with my mom, brother and sister, four years ago. I was eating a particularly good meal, happy to be with family after a tumultuous year prior, and a feeling hit me out of nowhere. Before I could think, I blurted out, "I think I know what I want to do with my life. I want a food-related career." My family's response, besides some cheering and clapping, was essentially, "DUH." Something along the lines of, "We knew all along, we were just waiting for you to realize it for yourself."

28. I'm not certain where this path will take me, but I've felt more certain on this path than any other in my life.

Survival extraordinaire

This is what happens to your hands when you cook 12 hours a day, use knives, manipulate wet, staining ingredients and wash your hands 80 times a day, and then ride your bike home from work:



(This method of nail and skin care is not recommended to the general public.)

It's been a week since I started my glamorous new job as a pantry/prep cook, and as I suspected, it wasn't an easy week by any means. Between the early mornings for school and the 8 to 10 hours I put in at work each night, I was literally hurting by Wednesday. I considered sleeping in and missing school for the first time ever (but thankfully didn't), and nearly fell asleep in class during a truly fascinating slide show about wild mushrooms and mushroom hunting by my mushroom-expert chef instructor. The trick, folks, is to ask lots of questions during the lecture so as to stay engaged (and thus awake). You'll thank me for this gem of knowledge later.

I'm adjusting, however slowly, and realizing how precious every spare minute I have is to me. 20-minute power naps between school and work helped, as did the fact that my chef at work was understanding enough to set my work schedule so I have a day off during the week to rest, collect myself and not burn out. He's been great to me; in fact, everyone at the restaurant, kitchen staff and front-of-house staff as well, have been so welcoming to me. I'm especially fond of all the women bartenders and servers who are stoked to finally have a girl in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, I studied like a demon for my midterms, and I'm crossing my fingers for good results on the comprehensive written test. I kicked butt during the 104-item identification test (fruits & veg, greens, dried herbs & spices, grains & legumes). I also managed not to cut myself during the mirepoix drills on Friday, thankfully, and though I didn't quite get two quarts, I was happy with my results. Though I did nearly cut off my ring finger during practice last Monday (see the photo above). It's a pain to work with open wounds, because it normally means bandages and finger cots, through which you can't feel anything. Tuck those fingers under, kids!

At work, things move at a very rapid pace. I'm realizing the most frustrating thing about starting a new kitchen job is figuring out where everything is. Since we deal with massive amounts of ingredients, equipment and serving dishes, I ask a lot of questions, most of them about where something is. For example, endive is in a container in the walk-in fridge, but someone labeled it "ANDIV" and no one has ever bothered to change it. I spent a good five minutes looking on the shelf on which it sits, basically staring straight at and around it and never finding it until one of the cooks told me about the mislabeled container.

It's small stuff to worry about though, as after a week I'm finally feeling more comfortable with where everything is, and my muscle memory is just starting to reach for things without having to think. It's how cooks get fast, I think; just being able to put together all the parts without having to stop to remember what's in that particular dish. Most of the salads I make, for example, have anywhere between seven and ten ingredients each, and I still sometimes have to stop and think, 'Wait, is there pepper in this one?' It really helps that we taste everything, EVERYTHING, before it goes up to the window to get delivered to the tables, as I've made most of the dishes enough times to know if there's something missing when I taste it.

I'm knocking stuff out fairly quickly though, for having only been there for a week, and I love that my chef asked me on my third day, in reference to how busy we were on my second day but how I managed to make it through intact, "So are you proud of everything you put up? Did everything taste good?" It means a lot to me that my chef is encouraging my pride in my work, and not just expecting me to knock out dishes quickly (though they do expect that too!).

I'm happy to have the next week off from school, as this will give me a great opportunity to just focus at work and be well-rested when I'm there. I know I can be a lot faster, a lot cleaner, a lot more efficient, and I have many more recipes to learn, but I have faith that I'm getting there.

Step by step.

Calm before the storm

It's a relaxing Sunday, lounging in bed with the Macbook on my lap, yet the butterflies in my stomach have me thinking about exactly how hectic my life is about to become.


Sunday morning disheveled attire with my monkey, Mocha

This week may be one of the most challenging weeks of my life yet, no exaggeration; probably on par with the last week of my senior year of college before my comprehensive finals were due and I was pulling out my hair (and crying a lot) trying to get my B.A.

But that was seven years ago, and a lot has changed since then. For one, I don't feel that impending dread of "I just want to get this over with." In fact, I am so excited about this coming week, I've been blathering like a nutcase to anyone who will listen about my new job I haven't even officially started yet. There are probably very few people in the world who are as excited as myself to be a pantry/prep cook, but then again, very few people make it into the kitchen of "a top-tier professional restaurant" (the executive chef's words) with no professional kitchen experience whatsoever. Really, it's kind of a miracle, and I'm still stunned.

Credit, however, should be given where credit is due: I know I wouldn't have been able to achieve this without my chef instructors' guidance and genius at culinary school. Exercises that seemed trivial at the time, such as equipment identification tests and knowing how to cut a fine brunoise (1/16" cubed), served me so well during my stage, that I felt great not having to ask someone what a nine-pan was or the dimensions of a julienne or how to cut an orange into supremes. All the training we had on proper seasoning seemed to help me the most: Too often, beginner cooks are afraid of salt, for fear of making something taste salty, but when properly applied, salt only serves to enhance the existing flavors.

This little miracle has resulted in what will be 40+ hour work weeks at the restaurant, on top of what is already 25 to 30 hours at school, five days a week, and possibly weekends at work. Basically I'll be doing 14 to 15 hour days, mostly on my feet, involving repetitive and strenuous labor (and LOTS of cleaning).

Who would be nuts enough to do this, much less look forward to it? Only us crazies who love creating something extraordinarily delicious, who revel in gently manipulating the freshest of ingredients, who crave honing their methods and skills, who happily turn up the speed when orders are flying at us, and who get off on making a patron's night with an excellent meal. It's the ultimate in instant gratification.

But let's not get too romantically carried away. The exec chef made it clear that I'm getting myself into something really big, and I have very large shoes to fill (again, his words). Not to mention I am the first woman to be hired in this kitchen of foul-mouthed, testosterone-driven men, as most cooks tend to be. The night of my stage, I kept getting disclaimers from the chefs about the fact that their kitchen has been all-guys for a long time, and they hope I don't have delicate ears. Ha! My reply to their disclaimers: "Sounds like there's far too much man-love up in here. You need a girl around these parts."

I admit that being the only female to be hired in that kitchen makes me more proud of myself. Yet the chef has said, "Just so you know, I'm not going to take it easy on you because you're female," and I would expect no less.

I don't fool myself into thinking I'll be perfect at this job from the get-go, and I know I'll have many tough days where things don't work out as I planned. But I've never been more excited to step into new and unexplored territory. I have a lot to learn, A LOT, and it's a matter of keeping up the energy and enthusiasm I had the night of my stage.

Oh, did I mention I have a comprehensive test at school tomorrow, midterms and a kitchen practical on Friday, plus the five-minute mirepoix drill showdown?

Here goes nothin'. Or everything.

p.s. - Anyone out there ever been in a similar situation? I could use some friendly coping tips (especially ones that don't involve drinking or general substance abuse). And thanks again, everyone, for the support. I have a feeling I'm gonna need it in these coming months.

It's always when you're not looking...

... that the right one finds you.

I went to happy hour tonight with the intention of catching up with a friend and eating some delicious goodies at one of Portland's best restaurants, and I walked out of that restaurant with a stage (tryout period)! I had no intention of asking, but a series of fortuitous circumstances landed me in the kitchen talking with the executive chef about my past restaurant experience, my present culinary school, and staging in their restaurant. Hardly five minutes later, I walked back to the table, totally in shock, half-laughing and half-mumbling, "Ohmygod, what the hell, I start staging here tomorrow, what the f*** just happened??" I'm still numb, but I'm completely ecstatic.

What is staging, you ask? Firstly, it's Frenchified, pronounced "stahhhj-ing" with a soft "j". It's basically an unpaid tryout period where you get a chance to see how their kitchen works, and they get to see how you work, your knife skills, your cleanliness, your prep speed, your general sense of urgency. If you seem worth your salt, they may hire you. Alternately, if it doesn't work out, no harm, no foul. The hope here is that it works out, obviously.

I'm convinced the universe is paying attention to my thoughts; I've been thinking for several weeks now that I should really start working in a kitchen, just to get a feel for it. You know, see how I do and if it's where I want to be, as we're starting to pin down our externships for Term 4. More importantly, I've been noticing more and more that my fellow classmates who work in kitchens outside of school are faster, cleaner, more efficient, and have more tricks up their sleeves than myself and my fellow students who have never worked in a real kitchen. They know how it really works, and that sense of urgency that is so important in a kitchen just comes naturally to them.

I want that, and this stage is the perfect opportunity. And I start tomorrow after school! Seriously, WTF?!? I'm still in shock.

I think there was a little bit of hesitation from the sous chef because of my gender; the sous asked me if I had a thick skin, and my reply: "I know I look sweet, but..." Heh. I figure if I've been able to handle the guys at school, many of whom work in restaurants, and none of whom make any effort to clean up their language or spare me from teasing because I'm a girl, I can handle these guys fine. Now it's a matter of seeing if I can cut it in the kitchen.

And a big, big thank you, you know who you are ;).

I must admit that I'm nervous as all hell, but this is truly an amazing opportunity, and my intention is just to learn as much as possible and drink it all in. Universe, you really know how to take a girl by surprise.

Choice phrases at OCI

The following are some choice phrases and terms my chef instructor used in the kitchen and classroom today:

-"Herbalicious"
-"Cilantroness"
-"Just say no to day-glo" (as in French's mustard)
-"Technicolor yawn" (an interesting term for puking)
...and my favorite:
-"Full yogurt dangle" (this was in reference to a true story involving a chef who cut a very hot Manzana pepper with bare hands and then failed wash his hands before using the restroom. The yogurt was the salvaging solution)

And these are just the ones I remembered to write down. He had some choice words about the English palate, but I'll spare your delicate ears (ask me in person if you want to know). Needless to say, I'm having a great time in T2, despite the onslaught of homework and the fact that I'm getting to school between 7 and 7:30AM every morning as well as staying after class to keep up with the workload. My chef instructor is officially brilliant, and I've become that super-annoying girl in class who won't stop asking questions because he's got answers for everything. EVERYTHING, I tell you.

I'm a regular Hermione Granger, and I can't help it, really. I've become sponge-like in my quest for culinary knowledge, and my resources are simply too great to not pester. Is that so wrong?

Why we do what we do

Sometimes we need little reminders in life for why we're doing what we're doing. My reminder tonight came in the form of a call from my friend Tonya, insisting that after my 11-hour, slightly hellish day at school, she was treating me to a dinner of my choice: Le Pigeon, Sel Gris, Ten-01 or Carlyle. Though I know we would have been happy at any of them, I've been dying to try Le Pigeon for months.

I don't know how I lived for this long without having goat cheese-cake in Oreo crust with strawberry-mint compote. Not well, that's for sure. We cozied up to the bar surrounding the open kitchen, where the much-touted Gabriel Rucker and his two co-chefs worked their magic. I watched the saute pans fly, filled with fatty duck, crispy, moist halibut, beef cheek bourguignon and pans of unending creativity and expertise. Mr. Rucker, though swamped, seemed more than happy to talk about the food, and when I asked him what his inspiration is (though I know he gets asked this 80 times a day), he asked me something that I liked to eat when I was little. I answered with my mom's scrambled eggs and tomato with sesame oil, and without a second's hesitation, he suggested a modern, relevant, servable-at-a-25-dollar-a-plate-restaurant version of the dish. This is a genius at work, my friends.

I just had the best meal I've had in months, and I'll detail it more soon, I promise. For now, it's dreams of passion and creation that will send me merrily to slumber for the first night in weeks.

In the Term 1 home stretch

Large dice (3/4-in square) for knife skills proficiency:


(It took me two whole large Russet potatoes and a whole lot of agony to get eight perfectly square large dice pieces. The larger ones are always harder than you think.)

So Friday was the fourth to last day of my first term of school. It's a vitally important four days, as it's definitely the most daunting of the projects to date: Four days of a restaurant-ready presentation of both pork and chicken with different starch and two to three vegetables for each. That's less than two hours for two full plates *per student*. Up to this point we've only been responsible for one plated meat-starch-veg presentation per day, so essentially the workload doubled on Friday. Friday, Monday and Tuesday are essentially practice for our graded kitchen practical on Wednesday. Plus, every day is peppered with a variety of tests, from knife skills to kitchen proficiency to written exams covering eight intense weeks of material.

Before Friday, we were squeaking by for time as it was, so I couldn't help but be a tad concerned about doubling the workload. It got to the point where I had a mini anxiety attack in the middle of a friend's birthday party Thursday evening, and had to gulp down a glass of the worst wine I've ever had in a restaurant (thanks, Old Town Pizza!) to calm the nerves. It's slightly hilarious now that I'm recalling the situation, but a little scary while it was happening. Thanks to some good company with friends, I managed to not go over the edge.

Friday morning rolled around, and I was up with a start half an hour before my 6:30AM alarm. I slept fitfully, but after a good shower, I buttoned up the chef's whites, remembering to tuck a t-shirt into my bag for the 90°F+ temps later in the day, and got to school at 7:30 to gather the mise en place for our menu.

And boy am I ever glad I did. Things went so smoothly that I surprised even myself, and I attribute that extra half hour to our sense of readiness. We were the only team to come in on time that day, but more importantly, everything was well-seasoned and well-finished. None of the meat or veg were overdone, and our plates looked clean and presentable, for the most part. I was really proud of our team for getting the job done well, and I'm crossing my fingers that the next three days will be just as efficient. Cross your fingers for me, people!

We had our knife skills test on Friday as well, and though I didn't do as well as I hoped, I didn't do badly either. On the positive side, though I had twinges of regret over the course of this term for missing certain shows or parties because I needed to do homework, in retrospect I'm extremely happy that I've kept up with the homework schedule up to this point. I've managed to have a relaxing weekend instead of toiling away at work I put off to the last minute. Last minute work and overdue papers were a far-too-common occurrence while I was getting my B.A., and I'm determined this time not to let it happen again.

In fact, the difference between the process of getting my B.A. and culinary school is so striking, I really feel like I'm an entirely different person this time around. It certainly helps that I have a passion for my school studies, and I feel like I'm really, truly ready this time.

It's a good feeling.

Helpful reminders

Our culinary class is divided into four groups, each of which is assigned a set of recipes to complete by a given time each day (usually we get about two hours from start to plate, sometimes less, which can get hairy but somehow we manage). The recipes get rotated through the groups so every group gets to make all the recipes at some point.

Yesterday was the first day of our third project, the first project being soups and the second, vegetable cooking methods. We were also shuffled around into new groups, and my new partner and I tackled braised cabbage, braised fennel, corn fritters, beer-battered pan-fried zucchini and roasted red pepper coulis for the fried zukes. I was happiest with the coulis, which my chef instructor gave the thumbs up, as did Chef Wilke, who constantly walks around the kitchens, surveying and tasting. The fennel was surprisingly delicious, as was the cabbage (though a bit overdone, Southern-style, but still good in flavor).

I was in charge of the corn fritters, and though I thought the flavor was excellent with the addition of some fresh basil chiffonade, the oil was too hot when the batter went in. Instead of a lovely golden brown, they were clearly burnt in a couple spots and in a general an unsightly dark brown all over. Surprisingly, burning them did not compromise the flavor much, but my instructor deemed them unfit for general restaurant service. I sadly and disappointingly relented in agreement. My classmates still tasted them, and though it was overall a better day than Monday, still a bit of a let-down.

We began lecture today by discussing what happened yesterday in production. My chef instructor asked me directly about the corn fritters, and I relayed in my best "positive attitude" tone what went wrong, what could have been done better, but that generally speaking I didn't think they were ruined. The chef instructor, who is not one to mince words, cut me off and said, "Well, actually, they were ruined. Yeah, the taste was alright, but you wouldn't serve that to the general public, would you? And that's who we're going to be cooking for, right?"

I felt a rush of blood go to my face and was thankful at that very moment that I don't blush much when embarrassed, or my face would have been a bright, hot pink. I was slightly irritated and felt foolish for saying anything at all. I nodded silently in agreement and was determined to keep my mouth shut for the rest of class.

My chef instructor, however, quickly followed with, "But listen, just because the food was ruined doesn't mean you're a failure. You're not. I'm glad you're making the mistakes now, in a safe environment where it doesn't cost you a thing to make mistakes. It won't cost you your job, or your money, maybe a little time but that's ok. That's what we're here for, right?"

I felt the blood leave my head and my muscles relaxed. My instructor was right, and I remembered suddenly, 'I'm in school. I'm paying to have this freedom to make mistakes and to learn from my mistakes.' I smiled a little at how irritated I was just seconds before, and thought to myself about how glad I am that I'm in such good hands. My tendency to take things personally was shaken off a bit, and I was ultimately reminded to be less hard on myself.

So yes, today was a good day.

Disappointment via Duchesse

This is what I felt like today after school: A bag of sweating, deflated Duchesse potatoes.

I made these in class today, and though I think they turned out alright, I'll admit that the lab part of class was my first truly frustrating day in the kitchen. I don't know if it was the fact that I had just bade farewell to my mom, who was in town for a total of 20 hours between yesterday and today, or that my school work team of three was missing a member, or that this morning's weather was unbelievably miserable especially after such a lovely weekend (Saturday at Pike Place Market in Seattle was incredible. And packed like canned tuna). The mood in class was one of general droopiness, much more so for me after my mom's departure, and it carried into the kitchen until we were dismissed.

The morning started out fine enough. I gave my mom a tour of the classrooms, kitchens and restaurant, where we ran into OCI's awesome co-founder Brian Wilke, who told my mom I was a "model student" (thanks, Chef Wilke!). I introduced her to all my instructors and classmates, and she even sat in on the first hour of lecture. She was enlightened on conversions in culinary math (ounces vs. fluid ounces, teaspoons in tablespoons and the like) and then during break I walked her back to my apartment and I called her a cab to the airport.

After I returned to school, the rest of lecture was fine, and then we had a fairly mellow (and very informative) demo on spices for the first hour of kitchen time. Once we got started on our projects in the kitchen, however, I felt like my brain and body were on slo-mo. I was a mess with my mise en place, and even though our tasks for today were relatively easy (roasting, charring and seasoning red peppers; and a potato of our choice), I couldn't get the "giddyup in my step" (as my chef instructor would say) for the life of me.

I was really eager to try Duchesse potatoes, as they've long been something of a mystery to me. I remember seeing a photo of those delicate, piped potatoes in one of my very first cookbooks at the age of 11 or 12 and thinking, 'Wow, I bet rich, fancy people who wear gloves to dinner eat these all the time'. For something that has held a place of "Fancy Foods on a Pedestal" in my head for far too long, they're surprisingly easy. They're basically mashed potatoes mixed with raw egg, piped and baked, and I got a hang of the piping bag much faster than I thought.

However, it took us a good hour and a half from start to finish. Our batter turned out much too runny after the addition of the egg and egg yolks, but fortunately we had some extra potatoes on the stove for mashed potatoes to donate to Potluck in the Park. With the additional time it took to dry out the potatoes, press them through a chinois sieve and add them to the batter along with more salt and pepper, we ended up plating our potatoes about 15 minutes past the goal plating time of 1:15PM. Being 15 minutes behind just made me feel like I was playing catch up with everything else, and I really begun to understand the meaning of the industry term "in the weeds", kitchen-wise at least. I've been in the weeds my fair share as a restaurant server and host, and it's never a pretty sight to behold.

In addition to the potato trouble, I had much more difficulty than I imagined with skinning the dry oven-roasted pepper, and even after a return to the oven and period of sweating in a plastic bag, about 40% of the skin refused to come off. Short of cutting off the whole top layer of pepper which has a lot of flavor and color that one does not want to lose, there’s not much else I could do, which left me frustrated and at a loss. Fortunately, enough of the pepper was salvaged that I could successfully julienne and season it with balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper, which turned out quite nicely.

Not to say it was a total trainwreck or anything of the sort. Far from it. In fact, at day's end, we turned out some good Duchesse potatoes which my chef instructors complemented and the peppers ended up fine. Maybe it was my overly-self-critical, perfectionist side coming out, but I felt like I lacked efficiency as well as quick-thinking on the whole, and it was an altogether frustrating day in the kitchen. And my first! Hey, there's a first for everything.

Although I'm an idealist, I'm fully aware that this is only the first of many frustrating days to come, with my externship still to occur, as well as many days of a hopefully food-related career ahead. Just goes to show you that things aren't perfect all of the time, even at my dream school. On board for tomorrow: kicking ass on our project. Watch out, Eggplant Parmesan!

Reflections on Day Eleven at Oregon Culinary Institute

It's officially been two weeks since school started, and though my intention was to write every day, clearly it's been a bit of a hectic adjustment. But it's started to feel like a pattern, finally; every day, we have two hours of lecture starting at 9AM followed by three hours of "lab" work in the kitchen. Most days just fly by, especially once we get into the kitchen, and oftentimes we're under the gun to finish our projects at a certain time. We've been going into major detail in tasting, trying to flesh out every aspect of every food we touch and manipulate. I've found this to be the most helpful - taking the time to write and talk about tastes, aromas, textures, colors, presentation, etc.... I mean, how often do you sit down to a meal and just scarf it down because you're hungry? I notice now that even outside of class, when I'm out dinner with friends or something, I'm mentally taking notes about presentation, flavors, mouthfeel, seasoning, etc... it's kind of startling.

I feel like I've been storing a bunch of thoughts up, and since they are scattered all over the place, I think observations via bulletin points will be helpful here. Apologies in advanced if this seems incoherent; I had a very late night last night and am running on four hours of sleep and buzzing off a mug of incredible chai made by one of my chef instructors.

Things I'm very happy about:

-Even though a lot of the information in the first two weeks of class has been stuff I've gleaned in the past from reading tons books and articles on food, food history, farming, and cookbooks, as well as working in restaurants, it's been refreshing and enlightening to see everything in the light of "real world industry" terms. Everything has value, monetarily (and I might even say emotionally) speaking, and we're learning to put all this information in context to running our own businesses. One of the reasons I chose to go to culinary school was to learn how to successfully run a business in the food industry in a nurturing environment (without feeling thrown to the wolves, that is), and I feel that even though it's early, we've already getting into all the aspects of cost to profit ratio, customer satisfaction, contemporary menu trends, local vs. non-local product, and all the other things that may affect running one's own business.

-Speaking of nurturing, our chef instructors are brilliant. They're collectively a wealth of knowledge, and they've made class lighthearted and fun, but at the same time don't coddle or hand-hold either. They know when to push and when to let us be, and I'm definitely building confidence because of it. Even hearing, "Nice work today, Ingrid!" from people I respect makes such a difference.

-Speaking of confidence, the change in my (and the whole class') comfort in the kitchen from day one to day eleven is pretty remarkable. I admit I was really nervous to be put on the spot to create something under the gun for people who know a hell of a lot more about cuisine than me, but with some positive encouragement and small successes daily, I find myself thinking, 'Holy crap, I could actually do this!'

-Here's where I may sound full of shit, but I really mean the following: You can truly feel the love around Oregon Culinary Institute. The instructors respect each other so much, speak very highly of each other, and even when they differ in opinion (which happens all the time, understandably, as food is ultimately subjective), it's always in a positive light. It's clear that they're learning as much from each other as we are from them, and what's better, the mutual respect between students and teachers is palpable. Not to sound like one big love-fest or anything, but it's pretty much my dream school environment.

-My classmates and I are working better and better together. Even though we're all at different levels (experience, age, schooling, whatever), we're all in the same boat at the end of the day. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect; I've had my bitchy moments, as has everyone else, so we're not all happy-go-lucky all the time. But more often then not, when I find myself grumpy or tired, my classmates are there to lighten the mood and give a helping hand, and I'm trying my best to be better about that with my classmates as well.

Things I'm not happy about:

-I've gained a small tire around my belly from eating so much and so well in class. Just today we got two plates of the most decadent turtle fudge brownies from the Baking and Patisserie students. Those brownies basically saved my life, because I had a cup of coffee on a mostly-empty stomach mid-morning to wake up and by the time I got into the kitchen, my hands were shaking from the caffeine as I was attempting to julienne carrots. One bite of brownie and I was calmed down again. Of course I didn't stop at one bite. I had two whole brownies, for the record. Ok? OK?? I'm staring at my belly now and I just want to yank it off my body. Either I need to take up jogging, or I'll just wait for the spring rain to let up so I can ride my bike more. Ugh. Ah well, there are definitely worse things in life. One can't really be that unhappy about turtle fudge brownies, is all I'm sayin'...

Things I'm doing differently after just two weeks:

-I feel like I'm getting faster, I'm cleaner, more efficient, definitely more observant, asking more questions, watching my peers, and I now know the difference between a rutabega and a turnip. Heh.

It may seem a little early to say so, but here goes nothin': After two weeks of school I've determined that going to culinary school was one the best decisions I've made in my 27 years, second probably only to having my surgery.

Much more to come, and I hope to be better about writing on a daily or at least tri-weekly basis.

Back in Seattle/ Day two of school

Somehow I've found myself back in Seattle, but now that I'm in school proper, it's just for the weekend this time. It's been a super long and crazy week, which included, aside from starting school: happily hosting my friends from Brooklyn while they played a show in Portland; playing a song in their show on my violin which I literally haven't touched in ages; having a blast and deciding to play with them again for their show in Seattle tonight (which went great!); going to dinner at Vindalho with the lovely folks from PortlandFood.org and meeting a bunch of fellow Portland foodies; getting dental work; seeing Bonnie at a show at North Bar while she was in town from Tokyo; and various and sundry things I'm forgetting at this late hour.

With all this nuttiness, I'm happy to report that school today was a blast by all standards and measures. We worked on knife skills with the chef's knives from our fancy new Mercer kits, and I discovered that I'm much more comfortable with a 10-inch blade than I thought I would be. I've always employed 8-inch chef's knives (or my mom's 7-inch Global Santoku, droooool...), starting from my very first Sabatier starter set to the Wustof Classic chef's knife that I have now. The Mercer 10-inch, however, is very well balanced and feels swift in my hand. It also helps that I'm surrounded by professionals who care as well as state of the art equipment; lends to a sense of confidence about professionalism that is hard to muster in one's home kitchen by yourself.

We had lecture in the morning, and then finally got to "play" with our knives after an incredible chickpea curry lunch. We practiced slicing potatoes Batonnet-style (a wider Julienne, basically) and got some schooling on proper honing and knife care, as well as general knife etiquette in the kitchen. On the surface it sounds like minutiae, but these details are so important when it comes to safety and speed. Even remarking on details like keeping our work stations clean help tremendously with efficiency, and only after watching our awesome instructor give a knife demo did I truly begin to gain respect for all those tiny details.

Afterwards we practiced turning panko breading in standard sauté pans, which was a fun mess--panko all over the floor. As a result of this practice, I'm now certain I need to get back to the gym. My hands were literally shaking after 15 minutes of gentle tossing. Getting back into shape is essential; even being on my feet in those clogs is kicking my ass.

Gotta say though, it's been a fantastic week and I haven't felt this focused in a long, long time. Bed for now, more tomorrow...

Day one at Oregon Culinary Institute

Today was my first official day of school at OCI. I woke up with a start half an hour before either of the two alarms I set went off, got a refreshing shower, re-read the chapter on kitchen safety that we were asked at orientation yesterday to read for today, donned the whites and stripes and headed off to school, which, incidentally, is mere blocks from my apartment. I have a feeling that this proximity to school will come in great handy on those mornings that I'm feeling a bit sluggish... just roll outta bed and I'm in school minutes later.

My class is literally 11 people large, or small, I should say. It's kind of fantastic, because when we're all in the kitchen, it doesn't feel overly crowded. At least not yet... we'll see how I feel after a few weeks in the kitchen rubbing literal elbows. I felt great in the morning, covering a ton of basics about equipment and safety and getting a detailed tour of the T1 ("term 1") kitchen. Being culinary school, there's tons of coffee, teas and water for us every day. By noon I was slurping down the black tea in hopes of getting a recharge. This waking up early thing is a whole different animal.

I admit that after a couple of hours of standing in the kitchen and listening to our instructors talk about various types of pots, pans, strainers, graters, machines, etc. in brand new, hard-ass clogs, I started to get restless. It made me think of the days catering events in LA when I was far too busy too notice that my feet hurt or I was hungry. I'm truly looking forward to getting busy in the kitchen. Tomorrow we get to actually use our knives from our lovely, brand new knife kits. I swear, it was like Christmas day unwrapping a whole new set of knives.