Where I’m At – An Attempt to Jumpstart

So it has been months since my last post. Admittedly, I’ve been preoccupied by the in-and-outs of culinary school and haven’t had much time to write. I, however, promised myself to begin writing again -- much to the happiness of some friends who think my posts rather amusing. I’m not promising anything though.

Now where to start?

Last week Friday sealed the fate of some award hopefuls (well hopefully not) -- myself included. Mid-terms was a mean mother… most especially the identification part. Imagine going through 120 numbered items with the task of identifying each and every one. Might not seem daunting to some, but to us mortals, it is more than confusing. Sure there are a couple of unmistakable items in the mix, like vanilla extract, salted and unsalted butter, rosemary, etc. but its all downhill from there. It gets really difficult to tell the subtle differences of various vinegars, more so, after smelling and tasting one after the other in succession. Not to mention telling the difference and identifying the various mysterious white powders which are also situated next to one another. Would probably be able to sort everything out given enough time, sadly, we were only given an hour to tell our Port wine from our Madeira. So that roughly translates to having to identify 2 items per minute minus the seconds I spent ‘oooooh-ing’ and ‘ahhhhhh-ing’ to the items I DO know. It was so bad that I had to milk each moment of satisfaction from each item I’m sure I’m getting right. I mean, I had to pat myself on the back for knowing something to stop my confidence from completely fizzling out on me mid test. But man was it tough.

There was of course, a silver lining. The identification part of the test made the essay part seem like *ding ding ding* bonus round. Heck yeah!! Ok fine, it was open notes, but then again, if you didn’t bother studying or actually doing something during kitchen hours then no amount of notes nor Larousse or Gisslen can save your ass. In the end, no self-respecting person in my class turned in their papers without making sure those essay answers would gleam under the sunlight and bring tears of joy to Chef Gene’s eyes as he combs through them later. This was redemption damn it! God knows the mess of a test I left in part one, so it was make or break time.

There was another part to this culinary triathlon which frankly, I didn’t feel like I went through after the endorphin high I got from finishing the former. It did however entail another gauntlet of taste tests, one of which was distinguishing from real (2 days worth of work) demi-glace and the Knorr (demi in pixie dust form +water) demi-glace. I think I did ‘fairly well’ on this one though as compared to the identification part. But as all things, everything is up in the air until it lands -- in this case, hopefully, not in a thud of disappointing failure.

Aside from last week’s dismal ending, I can honestly say, my enthusiasm has not waned nor faltered. I still arrive an hour and a half to two hours too early for class, I still take pride in my reflection in the mirror donning full kitchen battle garb and I still wake up hoping that there’s class everyday. Some things ARE getting to me though. I find myself more and more critical of the things that I would order when I eat out. I would catch myself taking jabs at the dishes that seem to me, mediocre. I sometimes feel like inflicting bodily and emotional harm to kitchen teammates who habitually make newbie mistakes. I noticed that I would sometimes get irritated for not having done my best at something. I’m not sure yet if these developments are positives or negatives, but I know something is changing. And it’s exciting. I just hope I don’t turn into one of those overly critical perfectionist gastronomes that must have a huge gourd stuck up their pooper.





FoodieGoesCulinary,
JC Dayo

foodiegoesculinary.blogspot.com

Backlog: Uniform

Nothing Says Official Like Uniform

Note: This post is dated first week of March. However, due to my own stupidity, I thought all this time that blogger was broken. Apparently not. Updates will now resume.

Yes! Ladies and Gents, finally we got to don our still pristine white uniforms this week as my classmates and I run full steam ahead into this brave new world. I mean sure I had some classmates who already wore their chef’s jackets last week, but only at the start of this week was it required. I actually couldn’t believe that there were people more eager than I was to wear the thing. That or, I couldn’t believe that I actually managed to choke down the desire to put it on as soon as I laid-hands on it.

Its true, and I can attest that nothing says official like Uniforms. At least that’s how I felt like as soon as I started getting dressed in front of the mirror early Monday morning. Slowly putting an arm into a sleeve then swinging it over my back to insert the other arm, then gently caressing the sides as I tidied it down before I lovingly fastened each button, and finally pulling down the bottom edges of the jacket to straighten everything up. I savored the first few glances. What was looking back at me was a vision; in all it’s gleaming white double-breasted glory. I let the ‘official-ity’ of everything wash over me for a moment until I realized the unavoidable truth: that this would probably look much much better if I had my pants on.




FoodieGoesCulinary,
JC Dayo



P.S.
Even I found that a rather strange yet funny realization. Kudos to pants!

Week Two

I’ve been procrastinating on writing recently, and its not without its share of excuses; both valid and invalid. Hence, I had two articles that are half-started last week but I lost steam and couldn’t quite get back into the rhythm of things ‘til maybe this week. Again, maybe -- so don’t hold me to that. (And yes, its called managing your expectations.) As Bukowski wrote:

“if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it…"

I especially liked the last ‘if’ in this little snippet of a quote, but that’s a whole other post, not to mention a whole other blog. He does continue though, but you can look that up for yourself -- but I digress.

Last week was pure lecture. And to be completely honest, it wasn’t exactly a ‘tickle my over-enthusiasm nerve’ bunch of lectures. However, they were vital.

The lecture which, I have to say, I enjoyed the most was Monday’s lecture on Nutrition. It was just so enlightening. I could’ve sworn I sighed: “Well that made a lot of sense.” in hindsight, around 7 – 10 times. No wonder my attempts at diets failed miserably. (Well, aside from the fact that they were MY attempts.) In all honesty, I walked away from that class with a more definite idea about why my next diet will also inevitably fail and that I should patronize Nestlé products. Its just makes so much more sense now.

Come Wednesday, we talked about the exciting world of Culinary Math, converting fl oz. to q’s to L’s to Gal’s to tbsp. and vice versa. Fun right? It felt like Chem101 all over again only…wait it was exactly like Chem101. I’m almost ashamed to say that I had fun -- the ‘nostalgic-hope-I-don’t-have-to-go-through-this-again’ kind. Its fun like the idea of commuting to Quiapo on the feast of the Black Nazarene for the first time could be fun. But deep down you’re thinking: “Never again except under threat of bodily harm.” (Hope ma’am instructor never finds this blog. But if she does, let me just say that it was the most fun I’ve ever had discussing a topic that dared to meld both science and math in the same 4-hour time period.) Makes me wonder how I’ll do in baking.

The same ma’am instructor gave the lecture on Sanitation later that week. She managed to make it rather fun to learn, but of course, given its utter importance we all couldn’t help but listen intently as she mouthed terms like: Food Temperature Danger Zone in a sentence under a single breath. It was amazing albeit the unavoidable ominous undertone -- Food Temperature DANGER ZONE. Feels like I’m getting Salmonella just saying it. Did I mention the presentation had really graphic images contrasting a cook with good personal Hygiene and one without? Complete with nose-picking shots. Moreover, I found it weird that all the little germs and bacteria in the pictures had smiles plastered across their faces like they’re your friends or something. Why would I want to avoid unintentionally creating a venue for them to thrive and multiply when they just look so happy? They don’t look dangerous at all. Until of course you mention that they thrive only in the Food Temperature DANGER ZONE!

All things considered, I can say that there never was a dull moment last week despite how I may have felt about the topics discussed. I’m just amazed how taken I am with everything culinary school has to offer. In addition to the fact that its just so much fun to write about as you might have noticed by now. (Or it could just really be me.)





FoodieGoesCulinary,
JC Dayo



P.S.

As I’m posting this entry, I’m already formulating how I can tell you about the exciting events that transpired earlier today in our first official cooking day, but as for my process, a lot of procrastination is still to be had before then. I’m also wondering how I can make sure you don’t forget about the Food Temperature DANGER ZONE.

Looking Back on the First Week

It’s been great so far. To say the week went by in a blur would be a grave oversimplification and might even be an insult to the people involved therein. It was an awesome week -- momentous even! But most importantly, I believe that this first week served to further solidify my conviction that indeed, this is where I belong.

As you’ve read in my previous post, the first day of culinary school was full of excitement and unabashed enthusiasm. I believe that deep within me, something was piqued. I have no clue as to what particular part of me it was, but I can most definitely tell you that I feel alive and at peace. I cannot recall a time when I was this excited to go to class or even to prepare for class. Even going as far as doing further studies on my own. I’m discovering this whole new side of me. And I must admit I’m a little disgusted by my new found childlike enthusiasm. I mean god forbid someone finds out about my over zealousness. What then happens to my ‘chillaxed-slacker-keeping-things-light’ reputation? Screw that! I like this ‘me’ that I, only now am coming to get to know. Where have ‘I’ been all my life? (Ok that sounded a little too narcissistic and over the top. Forgive me.)

It was a great second day. I got to revisit my French, which I thought was long forgotten. It was more basic French, and was taught simply and effectively by our amazing instructor. She made it interesting, significant, relevant, and she herself was very convincing. I’m now beginning to understand why the French cringe at the sound of commonly mispronounced words like: bouillabaisse, soufflé, even Hermès. Somehow, I am now able to offer my sympathy to them for an event that might seem like nails clawing down the proverbial chalkboard. It’s just not chic! (As our instructor put it.) I understand your plight French people -- I feel you.

Just when I thought that it was impossible to top the 2nd day’s ‘French Revisited’, today’s lecture on the Introduction to Gastronomy was just over the top interesting, intellectually stimulating, and yet sobering. According to Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, Gastronomy is the reasoned comprehension of every thing connected with the nourishment of man. It seemed an overly broad definition for a term, I thought. But as the lecture progressed it made more and more sense that indeed, Food touches, whether explicitly or implicitly, all aspects of human life. That FOOD IS CULTURE. It intersects most if not all of man’s intellectual pursuits to understand himself and the things around him, and how these interact. I can’t help but be reminded of Sociology and Anthropology classes that I took (and loved) in college. I mean, I thought I was already interested about food, but now there are even more things to ponder and investigate to satiate an even bigger appetite for Gastronomy. We talked about the cultural nuances surrounding food. We talked about how eating food is partaking of the culture responsible for creating said food. We investigated the whys, the whats, the hows, the whens, behind everything food which even included varicose veins of all things. We debated about the difference of being a gourmet and a gourmand. We talked about the sinister origins of today’s ensaymada. We deliberated on food standards, and how saying ‘masarap’ (its good) or ‘di masarap’ (its not good) doesn’t help anyone ascertain a dish’s quality. We talked about the subjectivity of tastes, the difference of good and bad taste, in food and in practice.

Believe me, that 4-hour session only served to pique my curiosity and wet my appetite for more. I am now even more convinced that the enjoyment of food goes beyond looking at it, tasting it, swallowing it, digesting it, converting it to energy, and subsequently excreting it as waste. The complete enjoyment of food means the marrying of both the sensual and intellectual aspects that goes behind its production and consumption.

Gastronomy what a wonderful science you are.

It’s the weekend. And I must say, I think for the first time ever, I wish it would zoom by. In order that I might find myself once again, deeply immersed into what I know I can now, most definitely call, my Passion.




FoodieGoesCulinary,
JC Dayo