08.10.2009: When the tasks I am required to perform and master in school get a little too complicated, I often ask myself, What the hell have I gotten myself into?I find that I'm starting to pose the question with growing frequency as our tasks grow more and more complex. I asked myself this during fish day, when we were asked to fillet fish and fabricate squid, oysters and mussels.
I posed the question to myself on sauce day, when our chef demonstrated the making of five mother sauces and I made a sorry curdled mess out of my hollandaise sauce the day after.
I asked it again last night. The order of the day was to make brown chicken stock and slice two jicamas into six tournés - one chateau (2 in. long x 3/4 in. wide) and five cocottes (1.5 in long x 3/4 in. wide).
The key here was to multi-task like crazy. I had to simultaneously slice and brown the bones in a pan on the stove, slice the vegetables for the stock, make a sachet of herbs and spices, brown the vegetables and stir them occasionally so they don't burn, skim the surface of the simmering stock for scum, tidy my station in between and turn the jicamas.
In between there are bursts of frantic running to the sink to rinse my knife and hands or clear out unneeded equipment. My tournés did not turn out the way I wanted them to. Meanwhile, my stock was rated well, though points were probably taken off because of mistakes in my technique.
And then there's always being sleep-deprived on a class night, staggering home drained after a practical exam, losing some of my social life and worrying over how to allot vacation leaves to studying.
I'm not complaining - I love every minute I spend in cooking school. My teacher and the school staff are affable, and I'm fond of my classmates, who show me many small kindnesses and treat me like a sister ("Bro, take care of her," they say to the last person I'm left with when going home).
While the pressures of schoolwork are enough to make me want to wring my hands and tear up my apron, I know all of this pales in comparison to the hubbub of a real kitchen, where you have 50 things going on at once and you can barely hear each other over the racket of service.
So, sometimes I shall ask, What the hell have I gotten myself into, not to rant, bemoan nor complain, but to convey bemusement, astonishment and joy at all the amazing and groovy new things I'm learning about food.
Sometimes, life may be hell, but it's what living is all about. What the hell have you gotten yourself into? As you said, learning about food. In my book, there very few things in life more meaningful than dealing with food -- the making and partaking of it, or even just discussing it. Namnamin mo, gurl. Cherish it. You made the right choice. Take it easy, but take it. Most of all, enjoy.
ReplyDeleteYes, Itay Albert, I'm grateful for the chance to do this. This is the good kind of stress, anyway, and I always tell myself that the hard-won goal is the more cherished one.
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