CULA-confidential

Kitchen rotation

Great news for me, I may be on my way out of pastry. I've started working shifts on the hot line of the restaurant. Nothing too difficult, mind you, just training at the vegetable station. I'm thrilled because it combines actual cooking with creative plating. It's a big deal to me because not a lot of people (especially women) who are hired in pastry, actually make it out of the "sweet" kitchen.

My group for Quantity class

From left to right: Celeste, me, Amy.

The worst job in the kitchen

Today I discovered the worst job in the kitchen. Cleaning lobster bodies.  Today I washed the tomally and guts out of two cases of nasty, slimey, lobster bodies. Why? Because the bodies make a wonderful lobster bisque

Vocabulary word for the day: Stage

Stage: to work for free in a restaurant kitchen to assess compatability with the kitchen staff. Pronounced with a soft a like stah-ge.

Big green egg fan

For Christmas, I got Jamie (my sweet husband) a Big Green Egg grill. Oh man, he made a rib eye so perfect it made me cry. The egg shape of the big, ceramic charcoal grill means it gets super hot, like 750 degrees hot, and sears the steak creating a crust on the outside, while the inside remains cool and RARE. Jamie is a most excellent husband.

Catch-up (not ketsup) and stuff

I got my grades for the first semester I worked and went to school. I got all A's. I thought work and school would be difficult but we got a new chef and the workload just zoomed to a new high. For the first time in ages, I really feel challenged. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. New chef is super talented and actually cooks, helps out if you get in the weeds, so I want to excell but *shit* it takes time to get good. Time that I don't have.

Making stock?

5 - 1 - 1 Five pounds of bones to one pound of mirepoix (a blend of 50 percent onion, 25 percent carrot, 25 percent celery), sauteed, and one gallon of water. Perfect stock every time.

Probably TMI, early onset menopause

I sent this e-mail to my mum. It's way to intimate for a blog, but this is what it's like to be a 42 year old woman, starting a new career.

Mom:

Thanks for your concern but I am fine, just stretched a little thin. I have a lot of school work to do and work will be a bitch. Thanksgiving is the busiest night of the year. Plus, my hormones are going crazy--making me stupid. I ovulate on one side for two days, then the other for a few hours. According to the menopause books, my body is flooded with lutenizing hormones (LH), as my ovaries try to put forth a viable egg. None of the eggs are up to snuff, so my body floods more LH in a vain attempt to push out a good egg. All of these hormones make my breasts sore, my emotions raw, and THEY MAKE ME STUPID. I'm forgetting silly things, having brain farts, all in the name of menopause.  And let me tell you, it had better be early onset menopause or I'm screwed. It's tough because it's not like I can go to work and say, "Oh, chef, sorry I'm so crazy, but I'm going through menopause," so I have to deal with this on my own. No one who speaks english understands what I'm going through. I'm two times older than most of the people I work with and the other kids at school as well. Some days I'm just tired of being a role model for modern maturity. I know the young women look at me and hope that they can be interesting and ready to start over when they hit their 40s, but I don't want to be a model of cool-crone. I just want to lie on the couch and watch movies, eat ice cream and drink wine. I guess to answer your question, I am fair-to-middling with OK on the horizon.

There it is, the raw truth about growing older.

I won a scholarship

I got a fabulous scholarship from Les Dames d’Escoffier that will help with tuition for the duration of my schooling. It’s a wonderful organization of women chefs and food professionals

The aching feet of a cook

Working four shifts per week (7.5 hour minimum duration) and four days of classes per week are taking a toll on my blog as well as my feet. I haven’t updated in ages and my feet are a disaster area.
They ached so much that I went to a podiatrist. Sparing the gooey details, I need to have very expensive, $300, orthonic (sp?) shoe inserts made that will enable me to stand for an entire shift. And stand I do.
I get a lot of advice on how to handle the physical aspects of kitchen work.
1) Get three pairs of shoes and rotate them.
2) Good support socks. I want socks that will wick away moisture and buttress my gams.
3) Warm up stretches and stretching breaks (HA like that’s going to happen) at work. Maybe I’ll take a stretch break when the line cooks take their smoke breaks.

Even though my feet (and back) hurt, working at Nana is everything I thought a kitchen job could be. The other cooks are fantastic, we have a great pastry department, and chef (David McMillan) is brilliant. Unfortunately, chef is leaving to open his own place. He’ll be missed.