While I was in Florence my sister asked me again: “But why are you dating this guy? You see no future with him and I’m constantly seeing you dating for dating sake. Why don’t you just wait until you meet someone you actually want to be with and date them?”
Those words repeated over and over again on my last (and ultimate failure of a trip) with the Frenchman.
I knew he wasn’t the one but it was fun and exciting to date someone new, foreign, and who could speak another language.
But things got old right quick when the bigger picture came into play. He is a complete, and utter, chauvinist. The woman’s place is at home and he constantly tried to convince me that if a rich man came along, I would just want to take care of our babies, and lunch with my friends, and ya know, have no ambition of my own. (Which is, beyond, insulting.)
And the “play fights” over whether or not I would succumb to his desire to have me clean his…well…everything (shirts, pants, dishes, apartment…) got even older.
So after 2 very long days in the gorgeous city of Strasbourg, I knew it was time to let the Frenchman go and truly close up shop until I actually meet someone I like. Adore. Couldn’t see myself without.
It’s been a very long time since, but I have absolute faith.
The Scientific 7-Minute Workout
(Source: poeta-mafioso, via gabrielalouise)
Today I had my chef evaluation - call it our “mid term” grades.
I’m the top of our group. That’s 1st in 10. Apparently I’m a very good student and one of the best. The chef had no serious critique other than I can’t get overly confident because then I can ruin my streak. He said that I need to plateau and maintain. He’s seen some slip and fall…hard.
I was bursting with pride and had a shit eating grin on my face the entire morning. Then I asked to see my friends grade - she’s #2. There’s only .1667 separating us. This means I have to work thatmuchharder to maintain and excel even further (Today’s tough meat didn’t help matters)
During the demo after our meeting I reflected on the fact on how well I’m doing. How when the chef asked me “How do you like it?” and I replied “I love it. I just love this” and he said “It shows.” And during the demo those words replayed over and over again in my head and I thought of my dad.
How this is his gift to me, his final, amazing, gift. He always told me that if I truly loved what I didthen I would never work again in my life.
I can’t tell you, whoever is reading this, how much I miss him. And during demo, I tried very hard to hold back my tears of missing him. How not being able to share this with him, of how happy I am, how proud he would be, how he could just see his little bunny truly following her dream.
Fuck I miss him. But I thank him. He gave this to me.
I will not waste it.
I love you Poppyseed.
24 more days!
My biggest goal in the kitchen is to be efficient with my time. I see people looking at their notes, forgetting to do this or that, and I really never want to be the person where the chef has to say “Putain…come on guys…LISTEN!” (it happens…believe me)
I’ve always had this innate ability to problem solve AND see what the next two steps are. This is incredibly helpful not only in life, but cooking.
But inevitably after 3 solid hours of chopping, sautéing, braising, stirring, watching, I always end up stumped at the same place.
Whenever I finish, I organize my meat, garnish and sauce around my pristine (and very hot) white plate for serving and could not give a fuck about what it ends up looking like on the plate, I just want it done.
This is where I lose the most points during every demo. And I feel like I’m completely sabotaging myself. I spend 3 hours getting something as close to perfect as I can master, and then I just mentally throw my hands in the air and say “fuck it”.
I have to remember, REMEMBER YOU!, it’s a marathon, not a race. Just because you’re done cooking doesn’t mean you can’t take the time to plate properly, and nicely, and cleanly.
Waking up with Strep throat.