Pret à manger.

Last week was sort of a shock because I had no idea how difficult it would be to make so much food in a couple of hours. Tuesday, I was on sandwiches being sold to whomever it is that eats at the community college. I just hoped they would sell.

What I did: fresh mozzarella, arugula, roasted red peppers & tapenade on foccacia.

What I wish I could have done, but didn't due to lack of time: Thinly-sliced, roasted leg of lamb, mayo, red leaf & black pepper chips (yes, inside the sammie) served warm on a multigrain. Also would not have worked because the stuff garde manger makes is kept in a refrigerated case.

Le sigh.

Well, life sure ain't fair, but I'll tell ya: I'm relieved I didn't choose to go with a meat-focused sandwich. I didn't have a day prior to do prep, & having to roast meat would have eaten up too much time. I sold all but two, so you know, things turned out OK for my meatless one. A fifth quarter student really dug my tapenade, but I didn't agree. I decided to leave out the anchovy so there was no mistaking that it was vegetarian, so it lacked that depth.

Wednesday I cringed about twelvety times a minute. I was on salads, which couldn't be more straightforward. First quarter does most of the prep, so it's a matter of assembly & making some dressing. Whoopty shit, you're thinking. Well, I was in a flop sweat because the amount I was told to make of the "Pacific Rim (job) Salad" wasn't enough. I attempted to bolster it with a lot of Chinese cabbage, but even then it was still as flat as my grandma's ass. Chef K read me the riot act, so I let him know that was the amount called for on the menu plan. He tells me I needed to put mixed greens under it. So basically a salad under that salad. I knew it wasn't worth pointing out that made no sense at all, so I just did it all over again with frilly pieces of lettuce underneath the cabbage underneath the actual salad. Hrm.

My Thursday/Friday sushi rotation went much better. Fridays are our small plates day, when all kinds of weirdos buy 55¢ tickets that are exchanged for, doy, small plates. It's a total steal because nothing is over few dollars. Thursday, I did passably well on the maki, but on Friday everything clicked into place. I maki stayed sealed when I cut it. It had the right amount of filling to rice. The ends were as good as the center cuts. Everything made it out on time. It looked pret-tay, pret-tay, pret-tay good. My inner Larry David, which is always quite pronounced, was intensely smug.

Re-cap of past weeks I've neglected this blog & then some.

The knife competency happened & it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The problem was everyone (esp ME) was so nervous it felt like doing well was impossible. I'm not saying if I was in complete control of my nerves, I would have gotten 100%. I do know that when the person who was student chef that day attempted to push me around, & I let it rattle me. I can only speak from my own experience of being student chef of first quarter students in a culinary program of a community college, but somehow I didn't let this dizzying glory go to far to my head.

(I will admit I really wanted to slap a bitch when it was my turn to oversee our kitchen. She's the type that's all talk & no effort. She rolled her eyes at me when I told her to pick up the pace as she took thirty minutes to peel a couple pounds of carrots. Could you imagine someone rolling their eyes at moi? Needless to say, I repeatedly ignore her Facebook requests for friendship, & she has recently dropped out of the program. Don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya!)

Now it's the second quarter, & I feel a lot less intimidated by the running around & mental organization & giant mixers. In fact, using the equipment is the easy part because there's only one right way to do it. With food, there are so many variables & details that rely on the cook's skills & judgment, doing it one way every time will get you into trouble.

In case I was under the impression that I may have some taste & ability, I have the second quarter chef instructor to put me in my place. He's the kind of person that can tell when you have a question, & you can tell he's put out by having to be the one to answer it. He's an old Japanese man with a great sense of humor & humanity...which is what makes his criticisms so much more harsh. He shares them with an immense amount of displeasure, & you're left feeling horrified that the guy who is nearly a cartoon character he's so buoyant is bent out of shape by your dumb question about how much bread to order. Obviously he just wants to inoculate us against the sort of treatment we should expect to receive, rise above it & all that, but that's easily forgotten when he gives you that look of intense irritation.

Tomorrow is actually my first time back in the kitchen. The first week was just going over a zillion syllabuses, & for me, getting used to being upright in the morning. Last week, I had to wait tables in one of the school's cafés. Having done this for a living, I think it's stupid there's no way to opt out of this. I don't have to have to take the measurements class because of my math credits. Can't I bring in a list of references & not pay tuition for it? It's just silly to have to dress like I work at The Keg & "learn" to remember to bring peoples' food to them. If you can't already do that, you might just be lacking common sense.

This week, my group & I are on garde manger, responsible for ready-to-eat items. I've read the recipes, listed the equipment I need to pull, what my first quarter gopher can take care of. I've also written in my tiny steno pad a bunch of salad dressing ideas I can do in my sleep so that I'm not stumped about it when I'm balls-to-the-wall busy. Or to hand off to whatever poor first quarter is stuck with me. Successful quantity cookery = mental (preparedness + agility) + speed.