Monday, 8/16/10 – Level 5 Day 11 (Patissier)

Tonight's offering will be a short one, seeing as how I am scheduled to work all week, have about 3.52 million things on my To Do list and am behind on sleep an average of two hours a night…for the past 8 months. But you know me, I can't complain…

The night started out pretty crappily. Do you ever get the feeling that every single person you come in contact with, whether you know them or not, is mad at you? Sometimes I feel like that…which probably means that I should re-evaluate whether or not these people could legitimately be mad at me. But other times I just feel like I am caught in a vortex of everyone's bad day all at once, which will inevitably rub off on everyone who comes within a mile of them. Nothing particularly horrible happened on Monday in class, there just seemed to be an endless string of snotty comments, angry looks and frustrated gestures.

Apparently we were supposed to bring more recipe ideas for the dessert special; our Friday pastry chef didn't tell us that our Monday chef would be expecting ideas. So when we were asked to hand in our recipes, we all went blank. It was pretty obvious that we had nothing, so I decided that it would be best to be proactive instead of continuing to assert that we didn't know we had to bring a recipe (like my teammates were doing).

"Chef, I'd love to make a tiramisu."

"Do you have a recipe for tiramisu?"

"No."

"Then how are we going to make it?"

Chef: 1. Jackie: 0.

 

I ended up volunteering to go upstairs to the school library to find a suitable dessert, print off the recipe and bring it downstairs for chef's approval. I picked a plum crumble (to pair with the honey ice cream we already had) and chef immediately approved. I got started on the little individual crumbles, meticulously placing the sliced plums in the ramekins with the juicy sauce and covering everything with a thick layer of raw crumble. Chef scolded me for not filling them enough (apparently they'll shrink once cooked) so I packed an even thicker layer on top and threw everything in the oven.

Forty five minutes later, they were barely browned and bubbling, so chef told me to transfer them to the higher-temperature convection oven. Five minutes later, the crumble had exploded over the sides of the ramekins and the whole tray was a bubbling mess. So much so, in fact, that the Level 6 students were laughing (maliciously) and making that "ooo…eee" sound that says, "Sucks to be you." The worst part was that apparently it was my fault this happened: chef was annoyed that the once-beautiful crumbles were now incoherent piles of purple. "They're rustic!" I said. Chef: 1. Jackie: -1.

I spent the next 30 minutes scraping the pan for remaining crumble matter and attempting to pile it back into the now half-full ramekins. They looked slightly acceptable when I was done, and paired with a lacey doily, a pile of honey ice cream, some sliced almonds and a mint sprig were quite Martha Stewart-esque.

I guess I need to learn how to let things roll off my back more easily. I try so hard to do everything right that it sometimes makes me self-conscious to the point of assuming everything is my fault – especially bad attitudes, dirty looks and rude gestures. Everyone in that classroom is just as tired as I am, ready to go home to their loved ones and counting the days until graduation. The difference is that when handed over-ripe plums…I make plum crumble.