We made it!

Well, my first official quarter of culinary school has now came to pass. Funnily enough even with my severe lack of grace, I made it out with all appendages still intact, not even partially severed. I also came out of that class with a bit of newfound confidence and respect for myself-both attributes I've been trying to attain over the past 20 years of my existance.

I have an incredibly LONG way to go, but that class will forever be engrained in my memory. It was me, the struggling protagonist embarking on her new frontier, fearful of failure but not willing to give up, grasping for success. And her fate was dependent on the flip of an egg.

Boy,I was sure was scared. I think I thought Chef hated my innards for a good 3 weeks(which is a long time for a girl constantly seeking everyone else's approval). After those 3 weeks however, I started to fall into a kind of groove. Maybe a tinge of non-chalance too but not in a bad "I don't give a damn" way. More like a "if you mess up this one time, the world might possibly STILL remain on its axis and continue with its rotation" type of way.
I remember the tip of my nose practically glued to a recipe card for the entire duration of the first couple classes. That was definitely hindering me. They were all basic concepts we were learning...but I became so wrapped up in a silly recipe card, i couldn't really deliver the way I should have. I began to memorize the recipes before class...a major step in my mise en place for the day. I started eye-balling measurements, started hustling, the wheels in my brain finally started to turn. And thus, the obsession began.

I now think about preparing food constantly. ICA has evoked some kind of crazy passion in me that I had never been aware of before. Sure, I enjoyed cooking....otherwise, I never would have entered this program. BUt this has really introduced a lifestyle change. I not only want to cook and prepare the food, I want to know the process of hunting and gathering it, where it came from, what is its history?
I no longer drive under golden arches or anywhere near a drive through not because I'm a food snob, but because I now know that the majority of the beef produced in the US has been scaled to fit McDonald's standards....not because it's impossible to have better meat but because they are the biggest buyer. And it offends me. It also makes me sad to think that an animal's life like a chicken or a cow's was taken just so it could be some thoughtless soggy disaster that Americans cram into their mouths without even giving a second thought. That a chicken can live a horrible life just to die so that it can be turned into pureed, breaded meat. Terrible.

I've grown outrageously aware of what I put into my mouth...and it's sad to me that you can't even trust a tomato these days. Buy a tomato in winter, and it's really not a tomato. It's the idea of a tomato. Maybe a ghost.
Phew, anyway, I didn't mean to get off on some kind of a rant there. That should be its own topic. I just want to say, my life is changing dramatically, and it's all because of food.

My passion for the subject was not discovered at my grandmother's knee in the kitchen as so many others like to say. My grandmother was way too sick to be in the kitchen by the time I came along and my mother really didn't like me in the kitchen as a little kid because I was in the way and it was dangerous. I used to think a homemade cake came out of a box. And that Mom's spaghetti sauce was the best there ever was....but it was actually Kraft's spaghetti sauce. No, I have to say my first love for cooking came from the feeling of feeding someone else. It was a bad relationship I was in with a guy, but something infinitely good did manage to come out of it. I would cook for him every single night...striving for his approval. And then it wasn't just about him, it was about everyone else too. I put together my first Thanksgiving dinner for an entire family when I was 19 years old. Then I got held responsible for Christmas. I would spend over a week planning out what I was going to do.

This year, I did Thanksgiving dinner for my parents. My father said it was the best Thanksgiving dinner he's had in his entire life. He's 63! EIther he's had a lot of awful Thanksgivings or maybe...I did something right.

I'm doing something right. It feels right. It is right. This is me. I've finally found it.

Anyway, I have a lot of pictures I left out from previous Tuesdays. I will go ahead and just post the mess of them here.

braised beef shortribs, carrots vichy, celery root puree

roasted root vegetable(straight to my heart...mmmm)

chef taking a torch to my chicken





Lainey and Ian rolling pasta dough

She's so proud!







My Amatriciana







Lainey's Puttanesca( dirty girl!)

deep fry week

lemon poached salmon with maple bourbon reduction

Final Practical: (practice week) warm salmon nicoise salad with dijon vinaigrette