Cook Test and Knife Skills

I've had my first "cook test"... I lived to tell about it (though at some points Mallory and I didn't think we would), and I have to say, I don't like being judged on my cooking - I take it very personally. (Mallory is one of my best friends I've made at school - she's a true, born-and-raised New Yorker, yoga-enthusiast, vegetarian, peace-love-hummus type of person - I LOVE her)

I spent the week before our test cutting carrots and onions and potatoes... and cooking rice. Long grain, brown rice. Lindsay could attest to the multitude of pots that I cooked, taking her a spoonful of each new batch asking for her opinion. By her last taste at 11 PM the night before our test, I think she was thoroughly sick of brown rice (as was I).
Below is a picture of my last practice run before test day - I felt pretty good about my knife skills.


Test day, Mallory and I got to school extra early, changed into our uniforms - freshly cleaned and ironed. Tying my apron, threading my towels carefully through the strings, and pulling my hair back under my hat, I went through each step of what I would be doing, making sure that I had dotted every "I" and crossed every "T". The chefs would not only be grading us on the final product, but also our technique, sanitation practices, general movement in the kitchen, and other things that I had no idea about. Eating our usual breakfast of apples and peanut butter at our table, we discussed our plans and tried to relax - though neither of us could.

The atmosphere was intense, complete silence, eyes to yourself, nothing out. Once we began the test, however, I began to calm down. It's interesting the serenity that comes over me when I'm cooking - not just today, but most times when I am in the kitchen. To me, it's just hard to be stressed or unhappy while cooking - maybe because for the past 2 years, the kitchen was my escape from life or death situations - from hospitals where if I messed up it REALLY mattered; in the kitchen, if you mess up, just throw it away and do it again... no big deal. And most mess ups can be turned into something just fine... Anyways, for 4 longs hours, we cooked our rice and beans, blached and shocked crudite, and then created our tray displaying our knife skills.

I felt pretty good about my finished products - my rice, black eyed peas, broccoli, and 15 cuts - not perfect, but good. Even though I received good grades, I didn't like the feeling of being judged on something so personal. My cooking work is personal I realized, I love to cook and it's been one thing in my life that cannot be tangibly graded. I think cook tests will take some adjustment and alot of learning to let go and not worry. I HATE not making perfect grades...

The stress and intensity of the test had contracted my "spirit" so much that I was CRAVING something expansive by the end of the day...alcohol is expansive (that's why "happy hour" is such a popular thing - after a long, stressful, contractive day at work, most people need some sort of something to help them expand) sugar is also expansive - of course I opted for the sugar... I settled into my couch and the food network with a big dark chocolate bar and fell fast asleep...