Here's a lesson I'm trying to learn from: Do NOT compare yourself to others.
It's something I've been working on for years. And although I've made some improvements I can't help but look over and see my partner's beautifully bruinoised shallots are just that much more even and shaped than mine.
For instance, on Friday we were doing eggs and had to make a Mornay sauce, the base of which is a Bechamel. I always print out my recipe cards but had somehow misplaced the directions. I vaguely remembered the process and had to ask my partner about it. I felt so ashamed that he had to explain to me that I simply had to make a basic roux and add milk. Does that mean he's better than me? Since he remembered and I didn't? What does that say about my standing in the class? What would our chef think? All these questions and more slapped me like I had pinched someone's ass. Afterwords, I found the directions.
But each and every class I attend I find myself more likely to peek over with envy at my neighbor's succulent and perfectly reduced sauce, flawlessly tournéed potato, or what have you and think, "Why isn't MINE like that? Am I not good enough? Am I going to make it in this business? In this world?" These deadly thoughts will be the end of me, I swear it.
I mean, it's not like my baked eggs and cream is so fucking terrible! I can cook an omelette. My knife skills are decent, though far from perfect. Just because my neighbor's rice pilaf is perfectly fluffed doesn't mean that mine is crap. Does it?!
For my own sake, and mental health, I need to stop looking at everyone else and thinking that I can't do the same job. I truly do want this you know. I know what I'm in for when my training ends. I just want to be able to live up to my potential. I sure as hell hope my chef notices.
So despite these negatives thoughts circling around my head like malicious, starving hawks I do know that I'm capable of some things. Also that I'm still learning. God, I HAVE to remind myself of that. I've only been in culinary school for what? Two months maybe? No one expects anything from me. Meaning that when I attempt to turn a potato into something with 7 sides, it's not going to be a fucking masterpiece.
And despite the fact that I really do care what people think of me, I'm learning to be able to truly mean it when I say, "fuck 'em".
