The Culinary Tales Week 37: The Heat is On

October 20, 2014

 

It was time to put what we learned to practical use. The next 12 weeks of our curriculum required that we apply our new skills to real-life situations, but in the school-controlled environment before letting us loose in the real world. That meant that for the next few weeks, we would rotate between the public-serving cafe, fine dining bistro or the production kitchen.

 

I learned late on Thursday night at the end of International class that I was being assigned to the bistro rotation for the first six weeks. It excited and terrified me because I had never worked in a restaurant before. Furthermore, I had one day to tell my boss at work that I would have to take off at 2 pm every day for the next six weeks. Because the restaurant had to open at 5:30 pm, we had to report a couple of hours early.

 

I was told that those doing desserts could negotiate a later start time. But, of course, I was beaten to the signup (again.)

 

There were four other stations that comprised the bistro kitchen, but aside from desserts, none of them looked appealing: grill, saute, hot apps and cold apps (garde manger.) Bistro Chef said that he was looking for heavy hitters, kitchen stars, for the hot app station. Naturally, I did not volunteer, but as luck would have it, all the other stations were full and I was stuck with the toughest station available.

 

Chef was introducing a new menu this term (it changes every few months) and it’s heavy on Spanish influence. Our station was responsible for two soups (cream of parsnip and tomato consomme), tortilla Espagnola (like a frittata, with eggs, potato and piquillo peppers), salt cod fritters, sous-vide quail and frisee salad with poached egg.

 

Two others joined me on hot apps: a nice girl I will call Midwest Sweetie and another girl I shall call… Now, there is a word in the English vocabulary that I, like many women, find vile and offensive. I only use it in the most hateful of circumstances, and it’s the only word appropriate to call my new hot app friend: See You Next Tuesday.

 

See You Next Tuesday appeared in our wine class once, and after spending the entire class talking more than the teacher, interrupting and acting as if SHE was the expert, ended up dropping the class the following week. Much to EVERYONE’S relief.

 

She drove a BMW which she proudly said was bought for by a gentleman caller. Honest about her fake boobs (jury was out whether the same gentleman who bought her the car bought them too), she wore too much makeup so that she looked like an aging tranny. (Harsh, but true.) She even took to hitting on the cute, younger guys, and one of them lodged a stalking complaint with the dean.

 

Aside from her “personal” issues, See You Next Tuesday ordered us around to do the crappy tasks while she took on the cool ones, which she inevitably screwed up and proceeded to blame us for in front of Chef, then asked us to clean up her mess while we had other things to do. She was a vile, unscrupulous witch who sneaked off for smoke breaks when there was work to be done and rushed a flimsy clean-up job because the faster it was done, the sooner she could go home. It’s one thing to be a      bossy bitch, another thing to be a lazy one. And it’s quite a gift to be both.

 

She was even combative with Chef, and was prone to dismissing his orders and doing her own thing. I let her bully me into using techniques she ended up getting yelled at. I should have stood up for myself but I just didn’t have the energy. Besides, I pick my battles, remember? Maybe I just need to fight more.

 

The rest of my classmates, however, were fantastic. Since bistro was only open for dinner, our group was a mix of students from the morning, day and evening tracks, and everyone, save my hot app station “leader,” were affable, talented cooks. And it really was exciting to learn some new techniques (our dishes called for sous-vide cooking and molecular gastronomy!)

 

The great thing about working the bistro was that this was a chance to work at a real restaurant but still have guidance and tutelage, much like a teaching hospital. Though we didn’t want to screw up, there was comfort in knowing that we weren’t going to be fired or anything for making a mistake. Like learning to walk a tightrope, but with a net to catch us when we fall.

 

 

 

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