What doesn't kill you....

might make you stronger
Unless your instructor impales you with a knife.
Let me start from the beginning

Chaos this morning, without going into too much detail lets just say as a result of "unforeseen circumstances" I ended up flying downtown at 8:31am in a cab. Class started at 8:30am. fail one. The staff at FCI were more than helpful, ensuring I got to my locker and escorting me to my already in progress class. A woman takes me to my locker to change, I do so, I try to lock up my stuff, my lock does not fit. Fail 2. It's fine she reassures me, I'll take it to my office, come get it when your done, relax! It's your first day!

I relax. I get to class and sit down, luckily all I missed was information on how to not kill yourself or others in class, hopefully I will not in fact commit such an act as a result of missing such pertinent information. Our instructor "Chef Tom" is a 40-something New Yorker, complete with the requisite accent. I did not like him from the moment I came in. I normally don't make these judgements, but something about him just didn't sit well...Needless to say, he gave me a less than welcoming look when I walked in. whoops.

I'm partnered for now with Richman, also a 20-something from the Philippines who worked there in restaurants. He's experienced, and really nice. Meticulously organized (as all of us bakers are), and very good at what he does, what a relief! I can learn from him! We started out making our crust for our Tarte aux pommes (pate sucree), and while other groups mixed with haste through the emulsion process Richman took his time, and ensured the butter, cream, and egg reached perfect consistency. The assistant chef helped others, then walked by our table and simply said "beautiful." Though I was off to a rocky start, this was nice change.

Everyone, or everyone I've talked to, is very nice and interestingly, for the most part shy! I think I've found a comfortable niche. While we had lunch (communal, prepared by the upper level culinary students), chef Tom approached me, regarding my shoes. DANGIT. I thought I could get away with purchasing black trekking shoes instead of absurdly expensive chefs shoes I'll use for 6 months, then toss. He asked me about mine, and said I don't know if they'll work, he believes they have to be leather (I didn't mention the girl wearing crocs next to me). I asked (politely I believe) if there was someone I could ask, since he was concerned it was a liability (understandable). He said yes, student services. I promised to ask immediately after class. He responded "no, I'll go ask now, I've been here many years, I think I know the protocol." Right. He came back, and didn't say anything (I still don't know the verdict), and apologized to the class for my delaying him. Thanks. I knew I didn't like him! After class in the locker room several girls in second level who just finished Toms section were so happy to have moved to the next Chef, mostly saying "thank God there's no more yelling." Apparently, my initial assessment of him was shared, and deserved. I don't mind though, crazy instructors make for great stories and bonding amongst the class! Still, no fun to be singled out on the first day. I reminded myself though that this is not my "end." I am not entering the food business in six months as a chef, it is simply another step. This helped, and I relaxed and enjoyed the rest of my day.

Aside from Tom, and the general chaos, I had a great (albiet exhausting) first day. Tomorrow we begin lessons of food sanitation (yay science!) and finish our apple tarts. Plus, I got this nifty tool kit, complete with everything I wanted to buy, but decided to wait (including three knew knives!).

So now to stare blankly at a wall and decompress before happy hour with my cousin!