Wednesday, 2/24/10 – Level 1 Practical Exam

It’s so hard to believe that the day finally came, and I survived. I still remember trying on my FCI uniform for the first time, marching around our apartment as if I were a 4-year old wearing my mother’s shoes and cocktail gown. Yet a mere 6 weeks later I have passed my first official practical exam, moving me up to Level 2, and am feeling my most comfortable when I have my apron tied around my waist and a messy ponytail secured under my cloth cap. Ok, I haven’t officially passed yet, as the grades aren’t posted, but I am assuming that I passed. It may seem to you like I’m speaking as if I already graduated and am Chef Jacqueline Lindsey. Not so much…I passed Level 1 here people. It’s really not that amazing in the scheme of things, but it’s a small step that reminds me how far I’ve come already. Just think of how crazy my mad skillz will be in October.

I made the mistake of stopping for a latte at Starbucks before the test, and due to the years of caffeine caked in my blood vessels I could barely keep my hands still. Unfortunately for me, we had to cut a carrot into julienne, a turnip into jardinière and an onion in both emincer and ciseler (basically a slice and a chop). While that might not sound like it’s very hard, just remember that the French are incredibly particular about the perfection of these types of things. Each cut is defined in specific and exact sizes, and we are not only judged on our accuracy but also our consistency. Carrots are especially hard to cut because they warp and curl, and trying to cut a perfect julienne is difficult, to say the least.

We then broke down a flatfish, de-gutting, filleting and skinning him/her (I had a him) and quartered a chicken. I’m glad I didn’t get confused and cut the fins off of my chicken!! (Ha…ha…ha…) I made a few small mistakes, such as leaving a little too much meat on the skin of the fish fillet and cutting too much skin off of my chicken breast, but overall it wasn’t too shabby. Some stations looked like “Silence of the Lambs,” and the rest of the night I kept giggling to myself, “It puts the lotion on its skin.” Haha oh man, I could keep myself amused for hours, possibly even DAYS. (EDITORIAL NOTE: If you ever see me laughing to myself, for goodness’ sake don’t ever ask what it’s about. You most likely don’t want to know.)

We kept our jardinièred turnips and cooked them a l’etuvee, which is basically a very simple butter/salt/water method, that, if timed right, the vegetable will be completely done when all of the water has evaporated. So that was it! The end of our first practical exam.

We were fortunate enough to have a lot of down time in between practical test portions and before the written exam. We spend so much time together as a class, but rarely get to know each other on a personal level. I am really starting to love my class mates; they’re a great group of positive, smart and genuine people. [Names have been changed to attempt to mask true identities, even though it’s really obvious to the person about whom I speak.] There’s Charles, the former microbiologist who is a better housewife than I am (please refrain from the hundreds of comments that I’m sure will be posted in my defense); Brad, the NYU lawyer who grew up in a strict kosher home; Carly, the reformed Wall Street executive and health food advocate; Anne, the cute graphic designer with a killer Long Island accent; and Leslie, the 17-yr old recent high school grad starting her first career, among many many others. There are so many cool personalities with such different backgrounds, ranging in age from 17 – 50+-something, and we had a blast getting to know each other outside of the kitchen. They might think they know me, yet I still have not revealed to them my shady past, time in the witness protection program and my face tattoo. In due time, friends, in due time.