New favorite (French) word: 'Pamplemousse'

There's less than a week and a half left of the quarter, & I'd be fibbing if I didn't say I looking forward to the next. Cooking giant quantities of one dish at once is so...lunch lady. Not that there isn't a place for lunch ladies- you just don't go to culinary school to do this. Unless your aim is to do buffet brunch at the Red Lion.

One major lesson is reconciling myself to repetition. It turned me off at first, but I realized it gives me an opportunity to improve my technique. (If you don't reproach yourself over it, your instructor will seize the chance.) You can easily get caught up in doing so many things, you forget to critique yourself. Or just ask yourself if you could have simplified your approach. At any rate, repetition is unavoidable, so it's best not to get too rankled by it.

I've been avoiding the whole navel-gazing thing on here since school got a bit difficult for a good three weeks. I had two overlapping sicknesses, one more freaky than the other, both since resolved. I had constant nausea & dizziness, which made just standing in the kitchen a nightmarish assault on my senses. I missed some days of school (I missed none last quarter), & under-performed more than my share. Well, my food was good & got out, it was just LATE, which embarrasses me to no end. Partly, this was missing school & not having my prep done. The other part was trying to discretely dismiss myself to barf. Let's just say my rotation in the dish pit could not have come at worse time (burnt food smells now occupy a special place on my list of dislikes).

The good news: Ladies & gentlemen, I am nearly restored to my healthful, robust self. I had Paul & Friends to take care of me, very good care. &...we're going to France! Paris & Epernay for spring break. The funny thing is, I can't have one drop of alcohol until I'm there. I can't envision a more perfect place to break a drink-fast. If only my doctor had prescribed a better pain reliever than 800mg of ibuprofen, it wouldn't seem so difficult. Paul did ease my troubles by taking me shopping though. Sorry- I hate braggarts too! It's just that I know I'm lucky when my husband understands that Alexander Wang has healing properties.

Enough about that: I'm just excited that I did well on this quarter's knife competency, breaking down a chicken. Again, that morning I was not feeling too hot, so I didn't do the lollypops. Somehow, pulling flesh inside-out was making me shudder. & the minute I spent bracing myself cost me two points. But the rest was spot on! Knowing that I would have done super-well if I hadn't been sick gave me more confidence to force myself to push through the rest of the week. I needed something; I almost folded & gave up a few times.

Next week, my group's last rotation is Entrée. I will ROCK the shit out of it. I'm no longer compromised, & I want to prove to myself that I am the cook I think I am.

Aside: I had to be sous chef (ugh, again!) last week. I wound up locking horns with someone who was going to lunch without putting food out. As we had next to nothing for s'lunch, this & my low blood sugar had me almost take a nose-dive over the edge into Slapabitch Canyon. He had plenty of excuses & colorful turns of phrase for me. I then got Taylor Dayne's 'Tell It to My Heart' in my head. Only it was more like 'Tell It to My Fart'. I didn't tell him to do that, but in future times, I will. If only to remind myself not to care that much.