*Girl, where IS your head at??

Scene: Cozy restaurant booth, snuggled side by side, hot toddys in hand, waiting for dinner.

Brian was talking to me.

I was talking to me, too… “FOCUS, MORON! FOCUS!”

Something about a managed server whatsy-hoozit. Tech support did not offer complete correct information on their product when it was new a year ago when the purchasing request was made -

” Chardonnay wine… brown sugar melted into syrup…”

-now can’t do the job it was purchased to do… Gotta build a work-around, like YESTERDAY, so the project can start moving ahead…

“You’re not focusing really well, tighten it up, Sister!”

-Took months to get permission for the purchase in the first place, now its not even the right product anymore-

“reduce by half, correct seasonings, let it rest. STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT!!! (pause) Start pears in butter and saute them a little…”

-amazing that it takes companies so long to agree to forward motion and actually get updated technology…

“Really, I’m listening… I swear… leave out the onion in the potato pancake, use carmelized onions with the pear topping instead,  almost a chutney…Yeah, that sounds really, really good…I wonder if I added…Oh, dinner is here! Awesome, I’m starved!”

Waring Warning

You all know it, you wanna go out to dinner with me now, dontcha? You want to talk to me and then go home, thinking, ” Did she hear one goddamned thing I said?”  I’ll have been totally busted, I’m afraid. I was being totally unfaithful to you while we were being so intimate over a meal… You were there, I was back in the kitchen, still cooking.

So, silly me. I thought I had it bad before, now I find out that its worse than ever. Insomnia. Not from stress, my friends, but from what I like to call Blender Head. While most folks in my neighborhood are up all night, staring at their popcorn ceilings thanks to normal woes, I am trying desperately to find the breaker box to turn off my blender. You guessed it- I am sleep cooking.

Last thing we were told in class on Friday was, “Folks, I want you to start to make accompaniments to these dishes! I don’t want plain potato pancakes. I want awesome potato pancakes with something amusing with them!” Well, fuck me, man! Thats like telling me I just won the lottery and I have 24 hours to spend the money before I die. What the HELL kind of thoughts do you suppose are going to run through my head with a comment like that? And do you THINK I can sleep, no less hold a conversation with someone I deeply love without having one hemisphere whirling in that blender in my inner kitchen, and the other one listening?

Welcome to my first week in culinary school. Every ounce of psychosis I held at bay in my love for cooking has now come to the surface. My old life is officially over.

Week One Wrap-Up

So, the first week… played with new knives, talked food porn shamelessly, yet purposefully, was at school busting my ass for six days straight (yes, six!) and doing as many hours of homework as actual school time.  Am I having a good time? Oh, I should say so!

I must say, my instructors are not run of the mill foodies I am familiar with. Listening to my Culinary 110 instructor delve into riveting history of the founding fathers does not put me to sleep for once- Its actually damned interesting. Hearing them talk about food as a profession instead of a hobby is just astounding to me- I never knew that real people were allowed to be in possession of such knowledge, no less allowed and encouraged to share it. Knowing more about food and its evolution somehow seems to make that whole process of putting something edible in your mouth more meaningful, even if its fast food, comfort food or haute cuisine.

I’ve put in extra hours with another chef from my 101 class. He had me prepping ingredients (mise en place) and then cooking lavishly spiced and fragrant foods, the likes of which I crave and try to make on an ordinary weekend. Learning his way, grinding freshly toasted spices by hand in a mortar and pestle until my arms quit, chopping onions and garlic until my index finger joint began to show the beginnings of a very sexy callous, coming home covered, smothered, splattered and exhausted- It was so soulful and honest to me. Perhaps that kind of work is what I equate to accomplishing something huge. Personal satisfaction through feeding others, bringing them to someplace new or some place familiar they long for- its why I am here.

Gotta go. My blender is double parked.