10 fingers, people, 10 fingers.

Week Three begins. The main focus lately is for Chef to demonstrate how to do certain cooking techniques, like saute, braise, poach, etc. Of course, we are only allowed to call them by their French terms, but that is a whole other post. I will be fluent by the time I graduate.

It has been pretty awesome because he knows his shit. I always thought that I was a good cook, never a chef, but a good cook. I was curious what the distinction would be and how fast I would see the difference start to emerge. Day one. Hands down, day one. I have a good pallate. But, a good cook? I would say I was a mediocre cook with promise. Watching Chef prepare the simplest of things is so fascinating and humbling I can't even explain it. The first thing he prepared for us was a sauteed chicken breast, one prepared American (finished in the oven) and one prepared French (basted on the stove.) All he did was season it with salt and pepper. It was hands down one of the best pieces of chicken I have ever eaten. He fried us chicken breasts with a panko crust. He called them chicken nuggets. I would have gone with breaded perfection. Again, only salt and pepper.

I realize that I will not be at his level, even at graduation, but the thought of coming close to it? I kind of want to run around flailing my arms and screaming. Waving would not suffice, I must flail.

Kid from day one came in with the entire side of his face messed up. It looks like he had a fight with a meat grinder. When asked, he told everyone he was mauled by a tiger. I am pretty sure this guy either needs to bring enough for the class or abstain.

I also finally got my knife cut model. Woot! We start knife cuts again tomorrow, so everyone think positive thoughts about my fingers. Only thoughts where they are still attached please...this is not a good time to imagine me fingerless. BAD. PLAN.

In case any of you are wondering, behold a knife cut model: