No this is not your bullshit blah blah New Years reflection, just a free moment to sit.

Many people have asked me what school is like.  It’s different.  It’s different because it’s a vocational school.

For the sake of ease, we’ll just call each 6 week class I have a semester.  I have one class, for 4 hours, each day.  There may be a 10 minute break, if times permits.

The breakdown:  Our Chef does a demo one day, always 3-4 recipes/techniques intertwined, and we furiously scribble and watch to absorb as much as possible.  So we can then, the next day, recreate said recipes/techniques in the kitchen for a grade.  There are practicals intermixed in there (completing dishes for a numerical grade and not just a completion grade), mid-terms and of course, finals.

We are graded on completion and technique (which can include the temperature of the dish, correct texture, down to the garnish, etc), when we bring our completed dishes up to our Chef, and she tells us with a cheerful smile to what degree we suck that day.  But never without teaching us why.

Our Chef in this last class was crazy talented.  To the point where she could tell you exactly where you fucked up by tasting the final result.  To the point where she could tell you you should have reduced something for 30 more seconds, let your roux cook for another minute, the heat under your yolks was a touch too high.

Crazy.  Talented.  Many were/are scared of her.  I want to build her a shrine.

So what is school like?  You can’t miss a day of a vocational school.  It’s not like the schools we’re used to where you can get someone’s notes and still be about 90% during your next class.  Where a nap accidentally turned into a day of video games because eh, you were gonna be late anyway.

We walk into class late, we are charged a tardy.  Our uniforms need ironing, or aren’t correct during the daily line-up, we’re charged a tardy and told to go fix it.  Three tardies equal an absence.  Five absences equal a failure in the class.

There are no unexcused absences.  This was highlighted to me when one of my team-mates this last class missed four classes because his 13-year-old son was hospitalized with seizures.  He was given a form to sign that stated if he missed another class, he failed.  We had four weeks left of class at that point.

He didn’t miss another class, and emerged with a focused, dry sense of humor as one of my favorite people to cook with.  Funny how life works.

I’ve learned that cooking is an amazing orchestra of chemistry.  “Culinarians” get a rep for being out there and crazy, free-styling it compared to our baking counterparts.

At the beginning of all this, I would have cockily agreed.

Now, I do not.  It’s become evident to me the best “free-style” Chefs have a deep understanding of the science behind what’s going on, and how to wield and control it.  How to make cooking appear whimsical when it’s actually several exacting equations, timed to react simultaneously.

And that is the fun part, the part I really really enjoy.  The challenge of making the food work for me, to control the techniques and get the result I desire.

Heh heh heh.