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
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
First Day Jitters
I set the alarm to go off at 7AM, I was however somewhat irked to already be up at 6. I took advantage of my unusually early waking to do my quiet time and say a short silent prayer. I guess I didn’t realize just how excited I was for my first day in cooking school until I found myself dressed at 7:30AM for a 10AM class. They did call Sunday telling us to come early, but I had to admit, it was a bit ridiculous that I was already dressed and ready to go. We were told to come in black pants, white shirt, and shoes. Not wanting to wear rubber shoes with my formal looking black pants, I went ahead and wore dress shoes. It wasn’t till later on that I realized that I should have gone with the rubber shoes.
I took my time with breakfast, having a small bowl of cereal, a piece of pandesal, a slice of SPAM, and an egg (Nothing gourmet about that). My mind, however, was already elsewhere.
I was getting really restless at home waiting for time to crawl by some so I wouldn’t look like an over-eager idiot arriving 2 hours too early. But an over-eager idiot I was. At 8:30AM I was already parked and heading up the stairs to the old rustic Café. I sat myself down on a booth to the left, and remained silent making sure I was ready mentally and physically. Early as I was, the place already buzzed with its usual patrons enjoying their breakfast. The smell of breakfast food and fresh brewed coffee mixed with cigarette smoke wafted around me. Strangely, it helped settle my nerves a bit.
It was every bit like your regular first day of school. Strangers sitting together not saying a word, except behind you are some heavy-duty burners, ovens, and various kitchen implements. Not to mention, that your classmates ranged from 18 to 40 years of age. The age difference didn’t help the ice breaking process one bit. If anything, made it more awkward. Try to imagine it for a sec. Curly-long-haired-dude, trendy headphone a la Skullcandy hung around his neck, music still blaring so loud that I could still vaguely hear it from across the room, sitting beside Mrs.40-something, purse settled squarely on her lap, complete with pearl earrings. And these people are supposed to talk? I imagine the conversation going something like:
“Hey, how’s it goin? So like, you’re taking culinary too. That’s like awesome.”
Feigned smile, and politely says; “Yes. Imagine that.” Inwardly, she’s thanking God she doesn’t have a daughter anywhere near his age.
The day really picked up for me when they handed us our Chef’s Kit. Believe me, just running my hand over the surface of that bag made me feel legit! And opening that thing -- man! I felt like a kid finally being able to open a gift that I desperately anticipated a whole year to get. I slowly unbuckled it open. Inwardly I was jumping up and down. I never thought I’d ever be that excited to see a whisk in my entire life. (Shuttup!) And I could’ve sworn I heard angels singing when I saw the knife set all shiny glinting with fluorescent glory. However, what I felt seconds after was less divine. Every fiber in my being was screaming: “LETS CUT SOMETHING UP!! NOW!” It wasn’t rage it wasn’t some other strong emotion. Its just that never in my life have I really wanted; with a burning passion…to chop vegetables as I did in those moments. I swear if they didn’t hand me that green bell pepper, I would have stabbed somebody and julienned the life out of someone’s arm. Good thing it was Basic Knife Techniques day and I was able to satiate my need to spill some vegetable juice on the ground. Needless to say, I think I need to bring a carrot or an onion in my bag, in the off chance that I find the urge to dice something and find nothing but a classmate.
Except for wearing formal dress shoes, which hurt my feet standing up as long as we did, it turned out to be a truly awesome day. A lot of fears were unfounded, people eventually warmed up to each other (Yes, even hipster guy and pearl earring mom), I met and made new friends, I didn’t stab said new friends, sliced and diced a good amount of fresh produce, had fun, felt like I really belonged in that kitchen, and reveled in the fact that come Wednesday, I’ll be in school again. (This time, hopefully, with more comfortable footwear.)
Meanwhile, I’ll be stroking my knives while saying; “My precious…” Hoping to God that I don’t cut myself lest I bleed on the shiny thing.
Peace!
FoodieGoesCulinary,
JC Dayo
P.S.
Oh come on! It’s the same feeling you get when you get a new pen fresh off the shelf. Yes! See you get it. Don’t you just itch to stab something with it? Kidding.
I took my time with breakfast, having a small bowl of cereal, a piece of pandesal, a slice of SPAM, and an egg (Nothing gourmet about that). My mind, however, was already elsewhere.
I was getting really restless at home waiting for time to crawl by some so I wouldn’t look like an over-eager idiot arriving 2 hours too early. But an over-eager idiot I was. At 8:30AM I was already parked and heading up the stairs to the old rustic Café. I sat myself down on a booth to the left, and remained silent making sure I was ready mentally and physically. Early as I was, the place already buzzed with its usual patrons enjoying their breakfast. The smell of breakfast food and fresh brewed coffee mixed with cigarette smoke wafted around me. Strangely, it helped settle my nerves a bit.
It was every bit like your regular first day of school. Strangers sitting together not saying a word, except behind you are some heavy-duty burners, ovens, and various kitchen implements. Not to mention, that your classmates ranged from 18 to 40 years of age. The age difference didn’t help the ice breaking process one bit. If anything, made it more awkward. Try to imagine it for a sec. Curly-long-haired-dude, trendy headphone a la Skullcandy hung around his neck, music still blaring so loud that I could still vaguely hear it from across the room, sitting beside Mrs.40-something, purse settled squarely on her lap, complete with pearl earrings. And these people are supposed to talk? I imagine the conversation going something like:
“Hey, how’s it goin? So like, you’re taking culinary too. That’s like awesome.”
Feigned smile, and politely says; “Yes. Imagine that.” Inwardly, she’s thanking God she doesn’t have a daughter anywhere near his age.
The day really picked up for me when they handed us our Chef’s Kit. Believe me, just running my hand over the surface of that bag made me feel legit! And opening that thing -- man! I felt like a kid finally being able to open a gift that I desperately anticipated a whole year to get. I slowly unbuckled it open. Inwardly I was jumping up and down. I never thought I’d ever be that excited to see a whisk in my entire life. (Shuttup!) And I could’ve sworn I heard angels singing when I saw the knife set all shiny glinting with fluorescent glory. However, what I felt seconds after was less divine. Every fiber in my being was screaming: “LETS CUT SOMETHING UP!! NOW!” It wasn’t rage it wasn’t some other strong emotion. Its just that never in my life have I really wanted; with a burning passion…to chop vegetables as I did in those moments. I swear if they didn’t hand me that green bell pepper, I would have stabbed somebody and julienned the life out of someone’s arm. Good thing it was Basic Knife Techniques day and I was able to satiate my need to spill some vegetable juice on the ground. Needless to say, I think I need to bring a carrot or an onion in my bag, in the off chance that I find the urge to dice something and find nothing but a classmate.
Except for wearing formal dress shoes, which hurt my feet standing up as long as we did, it turned out to be a truly awesome day. A lot of fears were unfounded, people eventually warmed up to each other (Yes, even hipster guy and pearl earring mom), I met and made new friends, I didn’t stab said new friends, sliced and diced a good amount of fresh produce, had fun, felt like I really belonged in that kitchen, and reveled in the fact that come Wednesday, I’ll be in school again. (This time, hopefully, with more comfortable footwear.)
Meanwhile, I’ll be stroking my knives while saying; “My precious…” Hoping to God that I don’t cut myself lest I bleed on the shiny thing.
Peace!
FoodieGoesCulinary,
JC Dayo
P.S.
Oh come on! It’s the same feeling you get when you get a new pen fresh off the shelf. Yes! See you get it. Don’t you just itch to stab something with it? Kidding.
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