On Time Means Late

Sweating it

First day of school! I was so excited I got up at 6am even though class didn’t start until 11am. Then, I was so antsy to get there early that I left home yesterday at 9:30 thinking I would have plenty of time —Wrong! Yesterday was a marathon and I didn’t leave LCB until around 8:30pm. Not the longest day anyone ever had but those people don’t believe in the same things I do— like lunch, and water, and a break now and then. I am not kidding. There are no breaks.

After locking myself out of my locker and climbing up and down three flights of stairs four different times, I only had 20 minutes to get changed and get to class—where they not only take role but also yell at people who are not in their seats and/or don’t speak up when called. So I start sweating. Profusely. While trying to change. And shove everything back in my locker. And get that hat on my head. My heart was pounding and beads of sweat were rolling down my mask-covered face as I entered the lecture hall just before the roll began.

As I sat in my seat and tried to breathe normally I knocked over my notebook and consequently my neighbor’s coffee cup. Just the worst move ever. He was really nice about it and didn’t even curse me or tell on me but I was mortified. It really was not the relaxed and elegant start I had imagined for myself.

But ok. The first three hours were a series of lectures on more of The Rules —which are legion. Examples: 1. On time is late 2. If you are not in your seat when roll is called you are absent 3. You may not leave the classroom for any reason during the three hours —even to go to the bathroom without raising your hand and asking permission!—are you kidding me? Who doesn’t have to go to the bathroom for three hours after three children?? 4. If you have your phone out it will be confiscated and you will be asked to leave and it will be an absence. 5. If your uniform is dirty you will be asked to leave and that will be an absence. Which of course made me worry desperately for the poor guy upon whom I spilled my coffee. I start sweating again.

More talk on excellence and pride in your work and appearance and the appearance of your work place. Feeling worse and worse. At the end of three hours we are dismissed —presumably to use the bathroom and maybe get a bite of lunch but we only have about 12 minutes and you need to be at least 5 minutes early for the next class which is the Demonstration. So of course I forgo lunch and water and just use the bathroom and scurry to the demonstration. Wow—three more hours of Chef demonstrating very precise knife skills. He wielded his chef’s knife like a Roman gladiator who was about to slaughter the Christians. Really scary good! I think I have decent knife skills but these guys could carve roses out of mushrooms and dice and julienne vegetables until they begged for mercy. It was amazing. But I was also very thirsty. And hungry. At the end of that three hours we had exactly 10 minutes to go to our lockers and get our 30 pound knife sets and be in place for the practical exam so I got neither water nor a trip to the bathroom.

By this time it is 5pm and we are ready to slice and dice. We lined up in front of our places and set up our equipment and got our tray of vegetables and began to attempt to duplicate what we had seen in the demo. Well, I don’t like to brag but I was thinking my diced and julienned carrots and turnips were looking pre-tty good when the chef came around and told me to throw them away and begin again. He even took out his little micro ruler to demonstrate that my julienned carrots were in fact not 1 millimeter each but more like 2 millimeters.

I was very sad. I need to buy a ruler ASAP. Because also, my dice were not 5 millimeters by 5 millimeters but more like 4 by 6—apparently I don’t see squares all that clearly. But, we pressed on and I actually found it to be quite oddly rewarding. My cutting got better and I asked for more feedback and the Chef in charge was so helpful. I felt empowered in a strange way. And like maybe I loved him. Or maybe I just have the beginnings of Stockholm Syndrome-who can really say.

Just a simple crudité. Only took three hours.

The evening ended with a massive cleanup and an amassing of every cut piece of vegetable to be sorted and put with the others to be reused for another purpose in the kitchen and every uncut vegetable to be replaced in the larder for another day. Even the peelings were not thrown away but composted for the garden. One thing they really pride themselves on is not wasting anything which I really admire. At the end, as I wiped down my station, I felt tired but like I really tried. A test had been given and if I hadn’t passed I did as well as I was personally capable. And that was satisfying.

As I walked out of LCB at 8:15pm ready to walk to the metro and head home, Les and Arabella surprised me -meeting me with a car so I didn’t have to take the metro home and when we arrived at the apartment they had cooked me dinner! And there were drinks—like water— all ready! I was thrilled! I literally fell into bed as I had to be back at 6:45am this morning for a 7:15 class. Glad it’s Friday.

The stages of making consommé