Well, the day finally came, my very first day of culinary school! I thought I would be super nervous, being in the company of accomplished chefs and teachers and students who might know more than me! Scary thought, mind you! But no, I was totally cool. Walked into class, empty handed, as I did not know what books to bring, so I brought them all, except math and english, and just left them in the car, in case I needed them. I calmly walked up to the chef in-charge, Chef K and asked if I would be needing any books today, because I saw all my fellow classmates with books. She shook her head no, I breathed a sweet sigh of relief, and took my seat, four rows back. The shoes I'm suppose to wear havent come in yet, so, needless to say, if I didnt feel different before, I do now, since I showed up with blue shoes and everyone was wearing black! But that's just a side note I thought I'd throw in there. I knew I would have nothing to worry about, as my schedule said the first couple days would all be lecture classes, and I would start my labs next week, when I get my knives. First up, 'Food safety and sanitation'. Basically how to stay clean in the kitchen. Second runner up, 'Culinary Foundations'. Basic culinary stuff, measurements, recipes, blah blah blahh. My teacher, Chef K, makes everything seem so cool. Almost like its not a big deal if your late for class, if your hungry, or just need to pee. Anyways, after my first class ended at nine, I just stood outside in the freezing cold for a bit. Watched some of my nicotine deprived acquaintances scramble to find the only smoking area on campus. A few came up to me and introduced themselves, which was nice. I guess I should meet these people, since I'll be seeing them everyday. As I made my way downstairs to C10 for my next class, Culinary Foundations, I stopped for a second while the class before cleared the room, and stared stalkishly at the students who were already working the kitchen, as if they were on display in a Macy's window. They all looked like they knew what they doing, as if it was already engraved in their minds. They all looked brilliant, gliding across the kitchen floor, pots and pans in hand, almost as if doing a sacred kitchen dance. I got such an urge to take a picture.
So I took a seat in C10, the basement. Soo cold! I sat there on a stool, dressed only in a plain white tshirt under my chef jacket, pants, hiked up past my ankles because I was wearing the wrong shoes, feeling as if I'm going to pass out at any moment from the freezing cold, waiting for class to start. When it finally did start, I zoned out a couple times, drifting off thinking about lunch and what I wanted. Lee Lee's fried rice. I listened to the history of the Chefs hat and something about taxing salt. Checked my phone, no service. Thankfully I only wanted to know the time. 11:07am the first time I checked. I turned around and scanned the crowd for anything interesting happening behind me. Then I had to write some stuff down. Stuff that I can find on my portal. I heard Chef K talk about assignments and due dates. 20 points and 50 points, I think. Heard a couple interesting stories about car theft and past students who worked at the French Laundry. I got to help a couple people learn how to tie a tie. None were ironed, so it was kind of hard to keep everything down pat, but they managed. Class ended early at 11:30. I had a few things to get signed, running back and forth from building to building, passing students further along than I, chattering about the dishes they made and upcoming assignments. I went and took my food handlers test two weeks ago, so I wouldnt need to get it in class, so I made my way around campus to deliver that to who ever gets it and make sure that was the one I need because apparently there are two and I wasnt sure of which one I had. So I met up with my rep and we spoke with some people and they assured me that that was the correct one and that I did not need to go take a ninety question test. WOOHOO! Thank goodness! When I heard the test had ninety questions and I had to pass with at least a seventy-five, my palms began to sweat like I was being interrogated by the CIA for stealing orange juice from a convenience store. Just glazed over with horror. What the heck? Ninety questions?! About what?! Cant I watch a video or something? I mean dang. So you can imagine the overwhelming joy I felt when I heard that I was not required to take another ridiculously long test. So after that whole ordeal, I just stood in the lobby, admiring the sugar and chocolate work and pictures and plates Chefs got as awards. You dont get a trophy! You get a plate! Well hey, it is culinary school. I would think a plate would be appropriate. I spoke with one of my new fellow culinarians about random things and just killed time, staying warm, waiting for my mom to pick me up. I'm not sure why she was so late, but she eventually came. Anyways, as I type this, I'm doing some homework. Some due tomorrow, others due later in the month. Trying to read my atrocious handwriting.
I really do need to pry myself away from facebook and urbandictionary. Seriously.