Friday, 8/13/10 – Level 5 Day 10 (Patissier)

We'd been planning this weekend for a while…one of my best friends from college is getting married in October, and The Girls were all gathering in the city for a weekend of fun (knitting, reading, etc.). After a day of hanging out, I was putting the final touches on my Level 5 project on Friday before the class in which it was due, and the day's Oprah episode was particularly enjoyable…which of course are two perfect reasons/excuses to be late for class. The subway system was surprisingly cooperative, so I caught the first express train downtown and arrived in perfect time. I changed in the locker room, grabbed my tote bag, shut my locker and bounded downstairs to turn in my project. At the bottom of the stairs I realized I was missing my huge tool kit, so I ran back up three flights of stairs to retrieve it. I knew exactly where I had left it – under the bench near my locker – and I threw open the locker room door and rounded the corner to quickly grab it and run back downstairs. But it wasn't there. In its place was an empty floor…and the locker room had already cleared out for class. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap….this is probably that worst case scenario thing that people try to prepare you for, I thought to myself. That bag contains approximately $500 worth of useful spoons, knives, whisks, shears, apple corers and Microplanes, many of which I purchased myself with my own (read: Steve's own) hard earned money. Remembering that my bag is labeled with my name, address and phone number, I hoped I would get a phone call in a few minutes from some frantic schoolmate who realized the switch, so I sulked back downstairs (quickly) to make it in time for roll call.

I turned in my project, which was surprisingly anti-climactic, and told chef about my little predicament. My plan was to ask the Levels 1 and 2 chefs to make an announcement about the missing bag to see if anything turned up. My next stop would be the Level 3 kitchen and the pastry kitchens (I had already accosted the Level 4 girls…). I was minorly freaking out, considering that if I couldn't find this bag not only would I not be able to cook but I would have to replace every single thing in the bag. As I sulked up the three flights of stairs (for the third time that night) I prepared a script for how I was going to tell Steve: something about a large, hairy girl in the locker room pushing me down, smearing butter in my eyes and ripping my bag from my arms as I screamed for my mommy. I opted for Plan B (TBD) considering my wallet was still full of cash, but I was getting desperate. I made the executive decision to just check in the locker room again one last time and sure enough a subtle ray of sunshine, coursing through the upper two levels of the school and a few layers of concrete wall, carried my eyes to a black case propped up on the bench in front of my locker, the zippers reflecting the glorious light and igniting joy in my heart. It was returned!!! I still don't know who the good Samaritan was, or whether I should call her a good Samaritan considering she took my bag in the first place even though it was clearly labeled and clearly mine, but I'm so very happy and relieved that I have my own tools back.

We were asked to bring an idea for a special dessert offering to class, so I presented chef with a recipe I found of Caramelized Nectarines on a Spiced Ginger Biscuit with Sweet Sour Cream Sauce. The picture looked tantalizing, and I figured it was a beautiful way to use the juicy and lovely nectarines that are abundant this time of year. She loved my idea, so I got started on the biscuits while a classmate helped peel and slice the many pounds of nectarines. Chef helped me find a beautiful and nice way to plate the dish that was "up to the standards" of the school, and I prepared my items, got a stack of plates and a pile of gloves to get everything ready for my special dessert.

As dinner service started and orders started coming in, I kept waiting to hear "One Nectarine!" The tickets were being printed, and as usual the chocolates and the rice puddings were blowing up. But I kept waiting…and waiting…and waiting for my delicious nectarine dish to be ordered. I was trying to find creative ways to pass the time: stirring the nectarines AGAIN, wiping the plates with a damp paper towel, drying the plates with a dry paper towel and shaking the sauce one last time. Chef noticed that I had absolutely nothing to do, so she suggested that I start making the dish to send out to the larger tables as a complimentary dessert. I spent the rest of the night fairly busy making complimentary dishes, but I was still offended that no one actually wanted to pay for my delicious nectarines. The upside was that I got to bring home a whole quart container of caramelized nectarines in brown sugar sauce, so thanks French Culinary for the free food.

I had an absolutely amazing time with my girlfriends this weekend doing classic and standard girl things. I'm pretty obsessed with Steve (more love obsessed than "Fatal Attraction" obsessed), but everyone needs some girl time every once in a while. We got pedicures, took the "Sex and the City" NYC sites bus tour, wined and dined and danced the night away. We've all been friends for close to eight years now, and it was interesting to see how our lives and friendships have changed since our college days at the Kappa house. We have jobs, mortgages, husbands/fiancées and Masters degrees, yet for two days were able to shamelessly resurrect the inner sorority girl that lay dormant inside each of us. New York City was the perfect playground to celebrate not only our friendship but the impending nuptials of a close friend. I'm still nursing sore feet from wearing heels all night and letting the alcohol slowly leave my system, but the memories of our weekend will last forever. It was a bittersweet goodbye on Sunday evening, but as I curled up to Steve Sunday night I felt renewed and rich. The love of a husband is unmatched, but it's the love of a friend (or a group of them) that makes life bearable.