Side Effects May Include Awesomeness

I'm back! And I don't just mean on my blog. I am mentally back to the me I know and love. California (or as I like to call it, Utopia) gave me a new attitude and completely revitalized my mind, body, and Vitamin D levels. When I returned to class last Friday, my classmates kept telling me how refreshed I looked, which maybe isn't that big of a feat considering my previous look was somewhere between downtrodden and inconsolable. So get ready for a great big dose of sunshine because I'm practically tap dancing around my apartment...not that there is room to tap dance in this place, yep, just stubbed a toe. Not even the fact that someone seems to be chiseling their way into my bathroom from the apartment next door can get me down. Not even now when my shower caddy just gave way from all the hammering.

Anyway, I spent 5 days basking in 75 degree, blue skied sunshine and the joy of unadulterated girlfriend time. I rode beach cruisers with my Bestie along the Hermosa Beach strand. I sat out on decks, patios, and sidewalk cafes sipping on whatever beverage seemed appropriate for the moment and remembering how lovely a gentle breeze feels as opposed to how a smack you in the face wind stings. I enjoyed sitting face to face with my friends and catching up and laughing and then missing them again before I was even gone. There were moments when I was sitting with my dearest friends in the sun taking in the palm trees that I was so happy I literally thought I might cry. (I could be a commercial for the side effects of winter). The best part was that it brought things for me in to such sharp focus. Well, maybe not sharp, but a clearer focus, which again, not a huge feat considering my outlook before was like someone had rubbed mud on a pair of scratched up ski goggles. That were tinted orange. And it's nighttime. So my trip helped me turn on the lights, wash off the mud, and just throw away those old goggles. I may still have astigmatism in my right eye, but the view is much better. Wow, I really should lay off these ridiculous analogies and get to the point.

California is home. And it's home in a way that I can't quite identify. My friends that love me, the familiarity, the weather, my favorite spots...they all play a role, but there is just something that feels like it's home for me. Even with all these silly sunlight induced emotional swells, I wasn't worried about getting back on the plane to Frostytown. Being THERE made me realize that I was in no way done with HERE. New York still has so much to offer me and going away made me realize that this experience is far from over. (Plus, the entire time I was in SoCal, I kept thinking about Mike shivering under a blanket waiting for me to return and how he should be with me. He was actually brewing his next batch of beer: a Belgian Wit flavored with orange, coriander, and honey...yummmers, and probably enjoying having the apartment to himself). Anyway, it renewed my excitement and my sense of purpose in being in this great city. Winter is slowly, painfully creaking towards Spring, but it's coming and there are more and more days where we being outdoors isn't an exercise in toughness.

All of this new found zeal comes at a perfect time because we begin the final level of our culinary school program tomorrow. Just six more weeks and this amazing experience will be behind me. (I can't even think about that right now because I can't believe it's almost over). We finished up our final station of the Level 5 rotations and I think Saucier (the meat station) might have been my favorite. It's challenging because you have to cook the meat to specific temperatures and orders to tend to fly in big batches. I love, love, love my team and am sad to have to part with them. We work well together and have had a ton of fun being on the hot line together. Last night as the final plates went out and the graduating Level 6 girls next to us realized that they had just fired their last order in the school kitchen, eyes started to well up. A la Grecque and I couldn't help but look at each other and exchange a "We are so going to be crying like babies 6 weeks from now" look.

So for the next 6 weeks, my plan is to kick ass. Even if it means putting on a happy face for Chef Pastry Grump as I start Level 6 with my new group tomorrow. I am going to squeeze as much as possible out of my final days in L'Ecole and I am going to enjoy every moment of it. No more inconsolable face. No more muttering under my breath. And no more worrying about what the future holds. I'm all in. (This message was brought to you by Vitamin D and the Sun).

A Fake Blizzard and a Lazy 30

With the blizzard in DC last week and subsequent snow days they were blessed with, my irritation with winter reached new heights. I felt cheated. Here I am, suffering through frigid temperatures and bitter winds yet we never get enough snow to merit a snow day. Apparently someone heard my grumbling because Wednesday was our first SNOW DAY! By noon, we only had a few inches on the ground, but classes were canceled and Mike's office had closed, so I could care less about the accumulations. It was to be a day of Netflix, board games, and catching up on things like my sometimes neglected blog. Another 30 days has come and gone and although we're well into February (my least favorite month of the year), I have too much to share to forgo the latest edition of 30 things I have seen, experienced, learned, tried, and wished to never do again. Except in honor of the winter blahs, I am going to do a half ass job and only share 15. And that should tell you exactly how I am handling winter...with apathy.

1. I finished my pastry rotation in the restaurant kitchen and I say good riddance to you measuring and precision.

2. We had three chefs in pastry: 2 nights with Chef Anna, 1 with Chef Mimi, and 1 with Chef Mark. It is unbelievable how much teaching style and method of delivering feedback can impact your success in the kitchen. My confidence and feelings of competence swung wildly from night to night. The chef's styles ranged from direct instruction with questions for students designed to make us think about and understand the process, to less than constructive criticism accompanied by head shaking and eye rolling, to a more laissez-faire style with helpful tips on technique. (In no particular order). Let's just say that being told something looks disgusting accompanied by an eye roll does not exactly inspire me. What it does is make me question each and every decision I make all the while trying to block my mixing bowl from scrutinizing eyes lest I be called out for being a moron again. Like I said, good riddance.

3. On the flip side, most of our chefs have been encouraging and supportive and seem to truly enjoy the teaching process. Our lead chef, Chef Jason, clearly understands the impact of his instruction, praise, and constructive feedback. He gives simple, direct instruction and demonstration, gives praise as you work, and looks at mistakes as a learning opportunity rather than a disaster. Love him.

4. Having experienced a small dose of a less than kind chef, I do wonder how this all bodes for me if I choose to work in a restaurant kitchen. I have got to develop thicker skin and carefully vet potential employers.

5. Putting the personality of one dreadful chef behind, I did learn some useful things in pastry. We prepared two desserts from the menu each night: a chocolate walnut cake with eggnog mousse and caramel sauce and then a creme brulee baked apple with an orange and ginger florentine (a thin little cookie). We also came up with a dessert special each night and made plates of petit fours and cookies to send to VIP guests.

6. My favorite thing about pastry was the plating. We used sauces, berries, candied nuts, spun sugar, and cocoa powder stencils to decorate the plates and elevate the dish from simple to sublime. These are tricks I will be practicing at home until I get that squeeze bottle of sauce to make perfect swirls and lines.

7. Tonight would have been my last night on the Poissonier (fish) station had it not been for Blizzard 2010 that at this point appears to be a total bust. It's definitely my favorite station thus far because it's busier than most and requires more in terms of timing and communication.

8. We make a brioche crusted scallop dish with butternut squash hollandaise, which is easily the most popular dish on the menu and probably my favorite. We also do an Italian seafood stew that has more components that I can keep track of: octopus, mussels, clams, branzino, fennel, calamari, shrimp, croutons, basil, olive oil, and a rich tomatoey broth. It's tricky to get it plated quickly and in synch with the other plates.

9. Mike and I decided to call Blizzard 2010 "Diet Blizzard" because it didn't seem blizzardy at all. I know I am from California but recall that I did live in Buffalo for three winters, the first of which gave me 8 feet of snow over a two day period. They didn't call it a snow day until well into day 2. We couldn't see the house across the street and the snow was so high you couldn't tell where cars were parked save for the antennas poking out. Diet Blizzard produced about 8 inches of snow over 12 hours. I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth (remind me to revisit that later), so I'll take the snow day, but a blizzard? Who is to blame for this misrepresentation of weather? And what exactly defines a blizzard. We were not impressed.

10. I tried to research the origin of the expression "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" and all I got was a bunch of gobbledygook about Henry the VI and horses having long protrusive teeth. No clear origin...

11. Gobbledygook on the other hand is attributed to US Representative Maury Maverick in 1944 in reference to his frustration with the convoluted language of bureaucrats.

12. And now back from that tangental interruption, winter sucks.

13. It is doubly sucky living in a glorified walk in closet in which you cannot control the heat. The closet warms up to sweat inducing levels which forces us to open windows and let in the sounds of jackhammers and the shrill old lady living below us. These sounds are typically accompanied by aromas of stale tempura and cigarette smoke.

14. Spending so much time in the apartment/closet has also alerted me to the shocking volume of dust in this city. I feel like I am living with a sneaky society of dust bunnies that leave trails all over everything as soon as I leave the room with my pledge multi-surface spray.

15. Luckily I will be escaping the blahs, the dust bunnies, the pretend blizzards, the jackhammers, and grouchy pastry chefs. I'm headed west for sunshine, friends, and hopefully a revitalized spirit. Even though I won't be sharing Valentine's Day with my Valentine, sometimes he knows when it's better to ship me off and hope I come back a happier, more pleasant Valentine. XOXOXOXO