The Sharper the Knife the Less You Cry

Living well is the best revenge

Yesterday I received the lowest grades I have gotten throughout the entire course and for no good reason. I did not start any fires, or bleed on the food, or even utter a curse word. I was shocked and annoyed. We had my least favorite Chef in our practical, who I am certain is a man who likes his power. He spent 10 minutes with each student yesterday going over their failings in the kitchen and he was a very unkind grader. You know the type-he once owned a restaurant, it didn’t succeed and now he is teaching at Le Cordon Bleu. Bitter much? Maybe he should talk to a professional rather than grinding out his unhappiness on some poor undeserving students. He crushed me, and I suspect, many of my classmates in a dressing down worthy of a real life firing at a real life job. It’s been a few years since I have been treated this way and I have to say, that if with age comes some kind of insulation from this type of behavior, this was a wake up call.

Maybe we all get a little entitled as we get older and feel like we have paid our dues and people shouldn’t treat us badly. At least it just doesn’t happen very often at this stage of life, but today was a quick reminder of how much being judged unfairly by someone who you don’t really think all that much of, but who has some small power over you is teeth-gnashingly annoying. Like the cop who is going to give you a ticket and you know you are going to get that ticket and you just wish he would hurry up and give it to you and spare you the lecture.

I went into yesterday’s practical thinking it was going to be easy and quick. We did have to gut a very large, ugly fish and make a stock from the head and trimmings and prepare these potatoes that we were told were popular 500 years ago. Which does make one think —if I want to eat food from the Middle Ages I will just book myself a table at Medieval Times, eat with my hands, and get a free joust in the bargain. But we gamely gutted and cleaned this giant fish, made the fish stock for the sauce and prepared the dumb potatoes. This is not something you would have been excited to eat. In fact, I did not even take a picture of it because it was so unappetizing. Sad about that now. We also finished in record time, well under the 2 hours and 15 minutes allotted. But no matter. Chef was in a mean mood and yelled at us every step of the way. Okay. I don’t love being yelled at but I also am pretty understanding of people and their quirks. As long as it ultimately doesn’t impact me in a negative way, I can just let it run off my back.

Yesterday however, a line was crossed. One student was in tears by the end of the class and I actually felt the need point out to Chef that some of his criticisms were unfair—which he did not take well or even really acknowledge. I call him Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He acts like he is there to help, but then with a smile on his face tells you how badly you have performed. He is one of those people you seriously hope you never end up with in a bunker during the Apocalypse— and in our house that is as bad a thing as you can say about someone.

I am down to my last few weeks at LCB and was starting to think it was going to to be a slow glide to the finish, but now I am really upset. We are all working very hard and have improved so much over the course of the last few months, and to be picked on like this really hurt. I briefly thought of complaining to the head chef but I am not even sure what to say—I got a grade I did not deserve? That makes me feel like I am 12 and I might need my mom to make an appointment and visit with the teacher. Or maybe get me a tutor. Maybe being yelled at is character building. Or maybe it’s just mean. I guess that is part of life as well. Another experience to tuck away with the realization that you are not the sum of anyone’s judgment. And living well is pretty good revenge.

So today, my sorority sisters are in town ( it is pretty much non-stop guests from now to the end) and we went on a walking food tour today with a woman who had trained as a pastry chef. We had a great time and tasted cheeses and breads and chocolates from all over the Left Bank. She was fantastic and we enjoyed every minute of our tour.

Outside the boulanger who won the best baguette in Paris competition!

Yes-we tried them all!

This is all chocolate if you can believe it—I think it might have been for Valentine’s Day?? Definitely an attention getter!

I asked our very knowledgable tour guide where she studied and she said she did an internship at a patisserie to learn her craft. I told her I was studying at Le Cordon Bleu and she laughed. I asked her why she laughed and she said that her time in a professional kitchen left her with PTSD due to all the yelling and difficult personalities and she guessed LCB had a lot of those same types. I felt very validated. I also felt like I am not going to give in to that. You may not be able to change other people, but you can change your reaction to them and I am committed to not accepting someone else’s judgment of me—especially regarding the presentation of a medieval fish dish in which he did not think my diced tomatoes were the appropriate size. At the end of the day, I still get to be me and he still has to be him and nothing on this earth would get me to change places. So cheers to being yourself—it’s way better.