Learning.

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".

How many weeks has it been?

I promised myself I would write in this stupid thing, even though no one is gonna read it. At least I'm doing something for myself, right? Right. God, I feel like I'm talking to walls.


It's been what, 2 1/2 weeks since I had my first class at the FCI and though I was incredibly timid and rightfully scared, I've grown into it. A bit. I've been yelled at, been made an example how NOT to do things, I've answered questions wrong. And yet, I'm still standing. I do go back and forth between whether or not I'm really cut out to be a chef, however. Picking something you want to do for the rest of your life is fucking tricky. But hey, up until a few weeks ago I thought I was gonna be a lawyer.

This all happened so fast. I was researching culinary schools on a whim and due to culinary representatives eager to get my money, became sucked into meetings and tours and.. well.. no less than 2 weeks later I was enrolled in culinary school.

I'm starting to get past the insecurity of, "am I really cut out to do this?", "am I smart, creative, eccentric, good enough?" thoughts and just do it. Though I do admit there were a few times I was in near breakdown mode when I was told I was holding my knife incorrectly or some silly shit like that. Yes, believe it or not I am a HIGHLY sensitive being. At times.

Anyways, I had my first test on Wednesday and I think I did all right. I think I may just turn out all right if I can manage to shut my brain off and just cook with my heart.

It's late and I'm tired. See you folks later.

First Day!

My first day as culinary student was... depressing. Well, I suppose it wasn't too bad. I just thought I did a terrible job as opposed to maybe other people, or perhaps in the eyes of my instructor. I need to practice. A LOT.

I was running around all damn day trying to get things ready for class tonight. I needed a copy of my high school diploma, my TB and Hepatitis A tests, oh and a check for $9,900. Luckily my parents have put aside money for school so I needn't worry too much about finances. Getting my medical tests was a different story however. I ran back and forth to the hospital and waited about 45 minutes not once, but twice and STILL didn't get my Hep. A results. Luckily, the people at FCI allowed me to take part in the class regardless.

As for the class, well it starts at 6pm and ends at 11pm. No breaks. I needed a cigarette after an hour. We got our knife and utensil kits, which is what I was mostly excited about. We went over safety regulations and took a tour of the building before starting anything. Then we learned how to julienne and jardiniére just about every vegetable known to man. All the while our instructor was quizzing us on the exact measurements of each one, what happens after you macédoine, etc. It was all quite overwhelming.

Some people from the baking class down the hall brought some pastries, so that definitely made things better.

It was so nice to finish with class and be able to come home to my wonderful boyfriend who was eagerly waiting to hear every detail, as well as my parents. I didn't realize I had such a fantastic support team. These people really want me to succeed!

Now, I have lots of work to do, I gotta wash and press my clothes and read up on my lessons. Jesus, this might just be more difficult than academics!