"Culinary Math Teachers" or Made Up Stuff That Makes Me Rant

Last night's class was brutal. Not because the kitchen was a furnace (which it sometimes is) or because we had to prepare 10 different recipes (which we sometimes do), but because it was the Chargers season opener and I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Class begins at 5:45pm (although Chef increasingly calls us up to the front around 5:40) and if you want to have any chance of being on schedule, you really need to arrive in the classroom around 5:15...unless you have a partner that commutes from Jersey and has no choice but to arrive on a train that gets him to class well before anyone, lest he take the later train which will make him late...which I do.

I figured out quickly that getting to class early is the single biggest favor you can do yourself. When you get there early, you get your station set up, you get your pick of bowls of all sizes, square boys (metal containers that are, no surprise, square), measuring cups, and the, for some reason, ever elusive, spoons. Just a regular spoon, but we never have enough, probably because we all store them in our sleeve pockets, so half of the school's supply ends up in apartments around the Tri-State area. Anyway, if you get to class early, you can get to work on your mise en place, which is basically the prep of all the components of your recipes. Although it has more than one meaning, the best of which translates essentially to your state of preparedness. So, like I said, if you want to have any chance of staying on schedule in class, you better be there early and you better have all of your ingredients portioned, your veggies washed, peeled and cut and whatever else you can get your hands on cooked in advance. It's a huge advantage. And I don't mean that in the competitive sense, but in the you vs. the clock way and the stress that comes with being in the weeds. Basically, from 5:45 until 10:45, but more often 11 and almost never early, we alternate between watching Chef demo our recipes, cooking frantically, and trying to smuggle in side conversations and jokes outside of Chef's watchful eye.

Monday's class was particularly brutal because we broke from the usual format, the one that keeps you too preoccupied to care what time it is until suddenly class is almost over. We were to prepare a roast chicken dish and an apple tart all before we had our stations cleaned by 9:00 and then lugged in stools for a lecture on food costs. The first 3 hours were terrific in that we were cooking, busy cooking and enjoying what we were making, although I do have to say Chef was sort of on a tear and raised his voice on several occasions. This is not something we are accustomed to and this is not to say that he is a softie by any stretch of the imagination. He runs a tight ship, gives praise with an undercut of criticism, but clearly wants us to do well and feels our success is a measure of his teachings. Each time he shouted at us for either poor time management, cooking during demos, or making too much mirepoix, it was always accompanied by some variation of the phrase "When you are in Level 3, you have to know these things! Chef won't be doing demo every time guys. It's okay to make mistakes, but guys, you have to be aware of the time!"

It was actually very sweet, because in just a week and a half, we complete Level 2 and will be parting ways with Chef Nic for the duration of our academic tenure. It's one of those situations some would call bittersweet, but I would just say is bitter. I am going to miss Chef Nic, his accent, his ability to crack himself up, and his flat out excellent skills in the kitchen. I am scared shitless to move on and be a big girl in the kitchen. I want Chef Nic to hold my hand a little longer, even if he does it by wrenching my boning knife away from me and showing me how to quarter a chicken the right way, one more time.

I digress, however. After we completed our two recipes, we were scheduled to listen to Chef lecture on food costing and watch a video on the same topic. Not so bad, right? Well, here's the way it went down. Mike is regularly texting me updates of the Bills-Pats game, which turned out to be an unexpected barn burner. My anticipation/excitement/anxiety was building as I hid my phone in my hat, checking Mike's texts as the final 2 minutes of that game ticked off and Chef has my classmates taking turns reading from our text. (What is this - 3rd grade? Reading aloud, are you kidding me? Can't we do this on our own time?)

As the Pats sealed the Buffalo choke, my irritation with being in class built as I knew the Chargers - Raiders game was kicking off. Luckily, Mike is a saint and was DVRing the game so we could watch it together when I got out of class. Of course this required me texting anyone I could think of that might possibly send me updates or taunts as the game progressed. To give you a timeline, the Chargers game started at 10 and I just had to get through 45 minutes, do a Superman change in the locker room and then throw myself into a cab for the 5 minute ride home. Around 10:20, Chef finally wrapped up the reading circle and started the video, which whoever produced should be ashamed of. It was a half hour of chefs and other professionals such as "Culinary Math Teachers" (oh yes, I will get to that later, but I will refer to her as "CMT", not to be confused with that hick music channel) explaining complex topics like multiplication, division and you guys probably won't even know this term because I think they only cover it once you are in MENSA, but percentages. (Yeah, never heard of it either). I kept looking around the room for someone in my class that might have special needs and be the reason for being subjected to the video, but everyone looked like they could tie their own shoes, so I dunno.

Here's where the "CMT" comes in. There's a sound bite of her talking about how so many chefs are intimidated by numbers because they are big and scary (accompanied by graphic of numbers with fangs swimming around on the screen) and how once she drops her "Culinary Math Teacher" skills, it's not so tough after all. I knew my missing-out-on-watching-football aggression was reaching its peak, because all I could think was if I ever, ever, ever see that Culinary Math Teacher (finger quotes and eye rolling), I will sit her down and explain to her that what she is teaching is just actual MATH and that it is not okay to make up job titles. Even regular math teachers use word problems that involve food...if johnny has 5 apples and he gives 1 to Susie...ring a bell "CMT"?

Anyway, when the video finally ended and Chef gave us our homework assignment (which involves a food costing sheet that according to "CMT" is going to cause an anxiety attack), I bolted out of there so fast and was home in no time to watch my beloved Chargers eek out a win against the loathed Raiders. I am sparing you the details of that part of my evening because it essentially involved Mike and I alternating between furious, elated, and sullen, all the while waving our Charger rally towels and playing the San Diego Super Chargers fight song which definitely woke up some of our neighbors.

Our next challenge in class is that we have free reign on a fish dish to show off the skills we have acquired. Basically, we have to fillet a whole flounder and then prepare and plate a composed dish using the techniques we have learned. This process in some ways terrifies me because there are so many things I can do, which causes me to change my mind on the techniques I will use, which causes anxiety and it's almost like the recipe is swimming in front of my eyes, with fangs no less. But then I replay that dumb video in my head and remember that I am not a moron and it will all be fine, with or without Chef Nic. It just won't ever be the same...