The Prodigal's Return

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was..." the last six weeks of my life. I've been away from the blogosphere, and it hasn't been pretty, but I'm finally back and ready to share what's been going on. Grab a snack and get comfortable, because this may be lengthy - even by my standards.

The last post went up in the middle of May, and I had to revisit the blog (newly found typographical errors and all) just to see what was last discussed. As far as school is concerned, we completed a short course on interviewing and resume building. It was much better than I thought it would be going into it. The instructor presented some new information in addition to revisiting some old with a different perspective. She was professional and helpful. She gave extremely long lunch breaks, so of course I'm going to sing her praises. She rocked.

After her class we moved into the Tortes and Gateaux (AKA cakes) course. This was a course that I had been looking forward to, because I hoped to learn alot about cake decorating, and I wanted to try some new 'from scratch' cake recipes. In the end I was a little disappointed. Aside from one wedding cake project, the class didn't focus much on decorating. We spent a good deal of time on layered mousse cakes and such. These cakes are visually appealing because of their multiple layers, but they're very time consuming and tricky to create. Because of the multiple layers, we had to make up to five different recipes just to finish one cake! It's insanity - especially considering the fact that they don't taste that great. Frankly I'd be happier with a plain chocolate cake.

There were a few good recipes in this course. My favorite was probably the cheesecake. Who knew that you could make a cheesecake with just three basic ingredients (eggs, cream cheese and sugar)? The only other thing you need is your choice of flavoring. Mine was orange and vanilla for a dreamsicle taste. The first time we made it we cooked down some orange juice to assist with flavoring. We also used some vanilla, orange extract and some orange liquor. The second time we made the cheesecake was during the practical exam of the course, so I skipped the time consuming cooking down of the OJ and just used the other flavorings. It was about the only edible thing I made for the test.

Another good thing about this course is that we made a pear mousse for one of the cakes. This mousse involved an old friend, the poached pear, from a previous course. There's just something about the poached pears that I like. It's probably a mix of the smell of them while they're simmering or the flavor of them afterward, but I'd rather just eat the poached pears instead of pureeing them for a mousse. To poach the pears I used a water/sugar base and flavored it with vanilla and almond extracts and some amaretto. I'm not an alcoholic, but the smell of the amaretto made me consider becoming one. The amaretto also made me think of a song. Amaretto. Amarillo. Amarillo By Morning. Or Amaretto by morning, but that makes no sense.



For the wedding cake project in the course, we had to design a cake and present it to the chef as though she were the bride. We could do any basic design we wanted, but we had to incorporate two tiers, three marzipan roses and some filigree piping work. We used Italian buttercream frosting over pound cakes with lemon curd filling (gross). Because I had alot going on with cake orders outside of class, I wanted to keep it simple at school. The less work involved the better off I'd be in my opinion. I strategically used the two smallest sized pans to have less to decorate and opted for a plain white on white frosting to avoid the mess and extra work of tinting. The design included extensive piping for a classic (almost gaudy) wedding look. In the end my cake became more of a yellow on yellow look, because the buttercream changed colors. It had something to do with the air and the fact that I didn't re-whip the frosting before decorating after leaving it sitting overnight. It hadn't been refrigerated, so I didn't realize it needed the additional whipping. As far as scoring of my cake project goes, I got 21 out of 25, and I was a little disappointed. Chef said I used too much icing for that size of a cake, and she would have liked to have seen color (even though she seemed fine with and approved the design plan prior to it's execution [but I'm not bitter]), so taking strategic shortcuts didn't work out too well. Pictures of the wedding cakes (mine and my peers') and my cakes from the practical are below.

My yellow on yellow but not enough color too much icing gaudy cake.

My Dreamsicle Cheesecake from the practical.

Top view of my Chocolate Caramel Pear Mousse Cake from the practical.

Side view of the same cake.
The swirl look is achieved using a joconde cake. The mousse layers and more joconde are housed within.

My ganache glazed cake from the practical.

During the tortes and gateaux course, our class size dropped. One guy transferred to the night program, and another quit school altogether. I hated to see the guy drop out, because he was talented, and we're very close to the end of our program. We're down to nine students, and we rarely have everyone there at the same time.

The tortes and gateaux course was my least successful course, and I ended up with a C. This was my first non-A class, and while it was hard to accept, it was completely understandable. I'll try to explain. It's been awhile, but I remember it all (very well looking back, it was the summer I turned 18).



In late May I kicked off a long string of cake jobs. They were every weekend, and some weekends contained multiple orders. Such was the case on the weekend of June 5th, the weekend that seemingly everything changed. There were two wedding cakes and two groom's cakes that had to be completed and delivered on that Saturday. I had enlisted mom's help with the baking piece of the cakes, and I stayed home from school on the Friday to work on icing and decorating. Even with the extra time it was going to be a close call on getting them finished on time. I was stressed. Things were going fairly smoothly when the phone rang at about 8:00 on Friday night. It was my sister who asked if I wanted a ride to the hospital. I had no idea what she was talking about, so she explained. My grandfather who had been at the lake was very ill and was being transported from the Eufaula area to Tulsa in critical condition. The details were sketchy. Nobody seemed to know what was wrong. All I was told was that it wasn't good. I had a long way to go on the wedding cakes, so I waited for more news. When more news came it was still sketchy. They had stopped at the Henryetta hospital to save time, but Papa needed to be in Tulsa. The air ambulance said that they couldn't fly to pick him up because of weather (though everything around the area seemed calm), and there were no ambulances in the town of Henryetta. The nearest one was in Glenpool and would have to make the drive from Glenpool to Henryetta to pick up Papa and then backtrack past Glenpool to Tulsa. My brother who happened to be at the lake with my grandparents had driven them to Henryetta while his wife and daughter stayed at the lake with my young cousins who were there camping with the grandparents. When the phone rang a third time at about 2 AM Saturday morning, it was my sister strongly urging me to get to the hospital. Papa had made it to Hillcrest, but things were going downhill fast. I was still in the kitchen surrounded by unfinished wedding cakes, and there was no way that I could leave and still finish them on time. As much as I wanted and felt like I needed to drop the cakes and be with family, it was impossible. I don't have a Plan B or a back up cake person to call for emergencies. I was alone and in a dilemma, but I didn't see how I could leave the house. The next time my sister called it was after 4 AM, and Papa was gone. I never made it the hospital. He had passed while I stood 12 miles away in a kitchen that he helped build.

As I worked on the cakes I was feeling guilty for not being there. And I was angry. I was mad at the people who ordered the cakes. I hated them for partying and celebrating while my family hurt. I was mad at myself for taking so many orders. I blamed and hated HCSC for putting me in this situation. I was mad at myself for being alone. I was thinking of my grandma. How would she cope? Fifty seven years of marriage is a long time. I hated cakes. And yet I worked. I had to. As mad as I was, there was no sane way to get out of it. I couldn't ruin a wedding - much less two in one day. That would have been wrong. What would I do? Pick up the phone and call the bride to say I'm sorry, but your cake isn't coming?

A good friend came over a little after 10:30 on Saturday morning to help. Between the two of us, we got the first two cakes delivered to Mounds on time. The cakes weren't great, but the bride was happy. It was then a mad dash to get back home to finish the other two cakes and get them delivered to Skiatook by 3:30. I was an idiot for taking the two orders that were so far apart. In the end I had the friend driving, while I sat in the back of the SUV trying to finish the cakes along the way. I was spreading icing and sprinkling brown sugar to look like sand while she sped down the highway and tried to avoid throwing me into the cakes. It was insane. After getting lost and driving around Skiatook Lake for over 30 minutes, we found the wedding site in a pavilion by the water. We dropped off the cakes just in time and headed for home, exhausted in every possible way. After a shower and a short nap, I finally made it to my grandma's (Mawmoo's). The same friend who helped finish and deliver the cakes also cleaned most of the kitchen while I showered. (Looking back I would not have made it without her that day. I'm blessed with great friends.)

The next three days were spent with family. By the time I made it back to school, I had missed four days of class, and that's how I earned the C. Attendance and participation is huge. While the chef gave some make up work to me, I was in no mood to do all of it. I did a great deal of it but still earned a high C. In my opinion it should have been a very low B, but I'm not in charge. There was an option to just go an a leave of absence for the rest of that particular course and then retake the whole class over again later, but I didn't want to do the makeup class at night. Looking back I should have. I went back to school the day after Papa's memorial, but I wasn't ready. I hadn't slept much, and I had no desire to be at school. The weekend cake and dessert orders hadn't stopped, and I simply needed a break. Because I went back, I've been tired and in a funk (ow, we want the funk, give up the funk) for weeks. Needless to say the three day holiday weekend with no orders for July 4th can't get here fast enough.

The cakes from the June 5th weddings are below. There are plenty of imperfections in them, and I'll point out a few, but part of me is just glad that they got finished.

A close up shot of the side of the first unfinished wedding cake.

The worst part of this cake is the fat globby border between the green and white on the layers. Once it was on, I couldn't take it off without messing up the green paint. I was more than slightly embarrassed by it, and it detracted from the shapes, which I was mostly okay with. Thankfully the bride was happy, and I've an idea to fix it next time.

The finished cake. The pink color really scared me, but when we arrived to deliver, it actually matched almost perfectly. Thank God for small miracles.

The Superman groom's cake.

The second wedding cake. This one is sad mainly because of the oddly placed flowers on top, but I've also decided that square cakes are off limits until I can get someone to show me how to make good 90 degree angles.

Side view of the groom's red velvet pig cake.

Front view which shows more imperfections... like the missing nostrils, the running mascara and the blue eyes piped with the wrong tip (while in the back of the SUV). The cake was outdoors, and strong winds had blown away many of the flowers.

There have been other cakes and all sorts of interesting events (ambulances, fights, cuts, sales, etc.) at school in the last six weeks, but I'll close for tonight. Those items can wait until the next post - which will happen soon. It won't be another six weeks. I promise. I'm getting back to the basics (these are the basics, we need to get back to the basics of life).


(Uumm.... Who knew that this blast from the past was filmed in Tulsa?)

Happy Grubbing.

A Blog & A Beat

On Thursday I finished the nutrition course and celebrated with a hearty helping of deep fat fried coconut shrimp, popcorn shrimp, cheddar biscuits, salad and more glasses of Coke than I can count. Keep reading, and I'll bring you up to date on everything else that's been going on (...And I scream from the top of my lungs what's going on) in this unemployed pastry student's life.



The nutrition class was an eye opening experience. As part of the curriculum (or kricklem as one of my old bosses would say), we had to track everything that we ate and drank for over a week. Considering my infatuation with Bueno, I knew that I eat alot of fattening foods, and I knew that I drink alot of pop (soda, cola or whatever other regional term you may choose to use), but I had no idea exactly how many calories that pop adds up to. I went back and calculated one week's worth of drinking and was shocked to realize that my drinking addiction (Hi, I'm Dustin, and I'm a Coke-aholic) added up to over 4100 calories! In seven days! That's over 16,000 calories a month or almost 200,000 calories per year, and that's just sad. What's even more shocking is that it converts to over 50 pounds of fat in a year's time. I seriously need to change my ways (I'm gonna make a change for once in my life. It's gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference).


For those who may be interested in tracking your own calorie intake, there is a great website that allows you to do just that. And it's free. The link is www.everydayhealth.com. Go ahead and check it out, but brace yourself. If you're anything like me, you may not like what you find.

Please let me clarify that I don't eat everything in sight. I'm actually quite picky. It's just that my preferences are deep fried foods smothered in honey mustard or gravy [insert shout out to the Brothers Houligan here] or Mexican food swimming in queso. This is one reason that I struggle from time to time at school. Certain chefs take great delight in pushing our taste boundaries. If they make a dish, we basically have no choice but to try it if given the opportunity. Such was the case last week. One of the chefs had made a pesto as part of an alfredo sauce, and the pesto was green, very green, and I balked at the thought of eating it. When I asked what it was, the chef politely told me the ingredients (which I have forgotten), but it was my lunch buddy who bluntly told me to 'just eat it'. I did, and I survived to blog about it, but I couldn't help thinking of my mom (who never inflicted such cruel and unusual punishment) and Weird Al and his parody of Michael Jackson's 'Just Beat It' (How come you're always such a fussy young man? Don't want no Captain Crunch, don't want no Raisin Bran). Perhaps I was spoiled, but I remember numerous times during my childhood when my parents would stop at a drive through to get me a meal before continuing on to their preferred restaurant for dinner. If I didn't like something, I didn't have to eat it. Mom just didn't roll that way.

And speaking of my amazing mom, Sunday was Mother's Day. I believe that my fondness of cakes and cookies is because of her. Until about the time I was in the sixth grade, mom was of the stay at home variety, and some of my fondest memories are of walking in the house after school to find fresh baked cookies, cinnamon rolls or a cake waiting on the kitchen table. Mom had whipped up a snack while my siblings and I were at school. These fresh baked goodies magically appeared more often than not, and they were always 'from scratch'. To my knowledge mom has never purchased manufactured cookie dough (or mac and cheese but that's another topic). To this day she doesn't believe in it. She also doesn't believe in stand mixers, but she will soon see the light (I saw the light, I saw the light, no more in darkness...) when she starts helping me bake cakes in bulk.

Mom always came to our elementary school holiday parties. She would ask what I wanted to take, and my choice was almost always iced coconut sugar cookies. I could put them away (and still can). Mom also made some of our birthday cakes. One of my favorites was a square cake that was decorated to look like a clown. It was classic Wilton, and I remember thinking that it was the coolest. Another one that I thought was great was a fish cake that she made for my brother. It was curved to look like a fish in mid jump, and we happened to be celebrating while at the lake, so it was perfect to me. I'm rambling in an attempt to say that my mom rocks. Always has. Always will. I'm 31, but just today she was arguing with me in an attempt to get me to drop my laundry off at her house so that she could wash, dry and fold it. (Calm down. I told her no.) She's just a giver, and I hope to be like her when it comes to benevolence. And don't think I say this to suck up. Mom isn't online often and may never read this, but it still needed saying. Moving on.

We had another online exam last week to close out the nutrition class. This was the fourth of five certifications up for grabs. It is highly probable that I would have failed the test if not for the chef. The instructor was the same instructor that we had in the food costing course a few months ago, and I've grown to really enjoy his teaching style. He has a great sense of humor and treats us like adults. He seems to genuinely care whether or not we succeed - not only as students in class but also as human beings in general. My only complaint is that he believes in homework, and I don't. Just as you should leave your personal life out of the workplace, I think we should leave our schoolwork out of the home. Chef doesn't agree. As a result of my lack of homework and a couple of late arrivals, my A for the course may or may not happen. I passed the certification test with a 97%, but the grades for the actual class haven't been made available. To be honest the only reason I passed the certification exam was because Chef was compassionate and gave us a review test that was very similar to the real test. We'll see what happens. The same chef is also teaching our current class, and I'm glad.

Yesterday Chef had to be out of the classroom to assist with a cooking segment on television, so we had a substitute. We didn't know of the substitute until we arrived for class. The substitute was none other than the chef that I've ranted about more than once in previous blogs. It was the chef who criticized my pizza cutting abilities and then called our class stingy MFers (only he used the words) when we didn't want to share our homemade pizzas with him (because he had helped himself to so much of it without asking on an earlier pizza day). When I realized who our teacher for the day was, I wrestled with turning and leaving and accepting the lost points. If I had known in advance I would have just skipped for the day, but since I was already out of bed, dressed and across town, I stayed and was surprised by the time class ended. There were no verbal assaults and no real yelling, and that's an improvement. The room is small, and the chef speaks so loudly in general that I found it difficult to concentrate. He may need to have his hearing checked (Shoot, we all may need to after yesterday). I'm trying to be nice and give the guy a second chance, because I think he means well, but I was very ready for class to be over by the time 3:00 rolled around. It's probably just me. I live alone and have grown accustomed to quiet and peace (I've grown accustomed to her face).

Loud people, be they unruly children or obnoxious adults, make me yearn for an exit or medication. The volume of yesterday's class coupled with my opinion going in made me feel like it was a wasted day, so I was happy to see our normal chef return today.

The current class is Human Resources Management & Supervision, and it's playing with my head. On the surface it's an easier course than the last, and studying shouldn't really be necessary, but it's causing more trips down memory lane than I want to take. The textbook has chapters devoted to interviewing, hiring, motivating, coaching, training, etc., and the past comes rushing back. I'm doing breakfast Pepsi runs with Dana, Linda, Jo and Tammy. I'm venting to Becky about trainees. I'm laughing with Miss Dorsey. I'm chunking stress balls over the wall. I'm playing games in the classroom and looking for opportunities to punish students with William Hung. I'm getting up early to bake a casserole for the most amazing team in the world. I'm having a hard time letting go this week (Although we've come to the end of the road, still I can't let go).

I thought I was over it, and most days I think I am, but then I encounter things like this cursed class, and I realize that the wound isn't completely healed. Ten years is a long time, so maybe these random episodes of grief are normal. I'd like to think so. Another thing that has been bothering me this week is that the memories are fading (Colors fade when you're gone). They're not as sharp as they once were. When Chef asked for certain examples of work life, I couldn't remember the details. In an earlier post, I referenced a line from a country song that talks about people drifting away like the leaves in the fall (Strawberry Wine, Seventeen), and apparently the line is also applicable to memories. I'm starting to see some bare spots. The breeze is cooling. Some leaves have already fallen away and those that remain are sadly fading.


Wait! Don't dial 911 on my behalf. I'm not sitting here popping Prozac while typing, and I'm not on the verge of a breakdown. I'm just having myself another night to remember (AKA pity party?), butI know that life goes on (Obladi, Oblada, life goes on), and now that I've vented to you, I'm actually better. On to more exciting news.

The replacement for the airbrush system that I had to return due to my own ignorance and an incorrect order should arrive tomorrow. I'll be spraying (and likely making a mess) in less than 24 hours!

I've got one cake to make this weekend, and it's important one. One of my grandmothers, Nanny, is turning 80, and her party is Saturday. She has always been a fan of sweets and is a big donut fiend (though you would never know by looking), so her cake will be along those lines. I'm trying some new things and hoping they work out. Pictures and a critique will follow.

The last two weekends have been short on orders and long on sleep, and it's been nice, but all of this is about to change. Nanny's cake kicks off about six weeks of cakes, and some weekends have multiple cakes. It could get interesting. From graduations and weddings to birthdays and baby showers, I'm heavily booked, and this is a very good thing!

Our (speaking on behalf of the city of Sand Springs) IHOP construction is moving along nicely. Nearly all of the walls are up, and I've been impressed at the late hours that I've seen people working on it. I don't think they'll make the rumored June grand opening, but it should be soon. I HOPe.

After someone recently suggested I change the name of this blog to something more musical because of the song references, I got to thinking about it. I'm not changing the name, because at some point I will focus more on cakes, but I did want to try to add some actual song videos. It may or may not work, and it may or may not be a permanent thing. I will admit though that I've been struggling with sitting still for the last hour, so the videos may stick around. For health reasons. How many calories does a person burn while bobbing, swaying and busting moves? It's bound to help. One positive thing about the videos is that they aren't automatic. They don't play unless they're clicked on, and even then they're easily stopped if they're not to your liking.

Finally, let me clarify that school is going well. The more I'm around my classmates, the more I enjoy their company and the entertainment they provide. School has become fun. With all of the whining in tonight's post, I can see why you may not have picked up on it. I'm human. We all are, and humans have a tendency to whine from time to time. We need to vent occasionally. What's important is that we not get bogged down in it. The sun really will come out tomorrow (bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun). As much as I miss the past, I know that everything happens for a reason, and I'm looking forward to the future - whatever it is. God is good, and the glass is half full. So... If you happen to be experiencing a rough day, it's okay to vent. If you live alone and it's too late to phone a friend, grab a pencil and write about it. Or wake up a friend. Blog. Get it off your chest, but in all of your venting, don't forget to look around and see the beauty in the world. You'll find it if you look close enough. It's there. Macy says so.



Happy grubbing!

A Super Sized Catch Up

The fat lady has sung, the eagle has landed and Elvis has left the building. Bread class is finally over! We finished our written exam Friday and the practical exam yesterday. Before I move on to the new class (Nutrition), I want to ramble a bit more about the last week.

For starters my lunch buddy recently ended up with her loaded mixer on the floor. It was an accident, but cracked me up nonetheless. If our batches are small enough, we use small KitchenAids (4 qt capacity?) at school, and they sit on the tables attached to power cords that hang from the ceiling. If the dough in the mixer is of a thick enough consistency, the mixer will wobble when set at a high speed (like some washing machines). Such was the case last week. My buddy had loaded her mixer, and the formed dough ball was causing the mixer to wobble. She turned her back for a moment too long, and the mixer wobbled or 'walked' itself off the table. The mixer stayed in one piece, and the dough stayed in the bowl. She picked the mixer up, powered it on and it was fine. It was business as usual except for a small scratched area on the front where the attachment connection is located. This made me think of a few things.

First I was thinking about the mixer walking off the table, which led to Walkaway Joe by Trisha Yearwood (born to be a leaver, tell you from the word go). Then I thought about Technotronic and "get your mixer (aka booty) on the floor tonight, make my day". When I stopped dancing, I was thinking about how durable those mixers are. That floor is concrete. I've always been a fan of and wouldn't want to try to bake without a stand mixer, but I know of others who don't feel the same way. Some say the KitchenAids are excessive or too expensive. I have friends who received one as a wedding gift and returned it to a store for the cash. My mom also refuses to use one - but for a different reason. She likes to say that she mixes her stuff by hand with love, and that's why it tastes so good [insert rolling eyes here]. Last week's falling mixer just solidified my opinion. They're amazing and every home in America should have one (or two... and an iPhone, but that's another subject).

Before we took the written and practical exams, we had three quizzes during the bread course. I've mentioned before that the chef was comical, and he included interesting questions on his quizzes. One such question was as follows.

A baba rhum is a:
a. Prince of India
b. Curry entree
c. Savory dessert
d. Gong to ring for dinner

The answer was 'C. A baba rhum is a savory dessert'. During class each student made and plated a baba rhum. The team I was a part of made a strawberry and lemon simple syrup and a pureed strawberry and Grand Marnier sauce. My plated baba is shown below. It wasn't great, but I would have totally eaten it - had someone not taken it from the fridge and tossed it without asking me.


For yesterday's practical exam, we had to make 12 classic brioche, a three-strand braid and a coffee cake of brioche dough. We also had to make a boule, a baguette and a batard from French bread dough. Yesterday was not a good day for me in the kitchen. I was off my game. It may be the fact that I was up until almost 5 a.m. after drinking too much pop with a late dinner the night before or the fact that I'm more into cookies and cakes, but my finished products were far from stellar. The shape of the brioche was about all that was on target. After the two (or was it three?) tardies and the not so great practical exam products, I'm worried that I'll end up with a B in the bread course.

Breads from the practical. Expectant baguette, bloated batard...

Classic brioche from the practical.

Mix of breads from one day last week. The filled croissants were a bit overcooked.

A bread display made by the night class (but our day class still posed beside it and took pictures).
The basket is made of bread as well.

And with that we say goodbye to breads (Goodbye Norma Jean, though I never knew you at all...) and hello to nutrition. Day one of the nutrition course was today, and I have at least an hour of homework. Other than having homework, it was a decent day. We watched the Super Size Me movie as an introduction to the course, and it was gross - more than a little TMI in some cases. It included vomit, a graphic physical exam, video of a gastric bypass procedure and more bare overweight bodies than I care to see. We also started an online food and calorie journal. It's required for the next two weeks and will make up 30% of our grade. Keeping track of everything I consume for so long will be both daunting and eye opening and brings us to the subject of my weight.

You may recall the previous post lamenting the letting go of cinnamon rolls. I've been eating so many of them and other similarly sweet foods recently that I was concerned about my weight. Since leaving the office and it's basement scales in late January, I hadn't weighed until today. In preparation for the online calorie counter, I weighed and was happy to find that I've not really changed in the last few months. The number today was actually two pounds less than when I left the company. I think I'll go have a cinnamon roll to celebrate. Not really. Based on the computer and my shortness of breath (take my breath away, take my breath away), I still need to drop about 25 pounds (drop it like it's hot).

Aside from school I've done a few cakes since the last post. The first was a 50th wedding anniversary cake on Saturday. The picture below was taken before the addition of a topper that the family had purchased. The topper was added at the party, but in the end we couldn't use it. Though the topper was nice (a clear acrylic circle with etched names and dates), it was too tall or the cake was just unlevel enough from front to back so that the topper kept falling backward. We sat the topper near the cake and repaired the piping on the top. On the way home I realized that we could have rigged the topper with the extra fondant that I had taken to the delivery, but it was too late (Baby, now it's too late, though we really did try to make it). Overall it was okay, and the customer didn't complain.

The second cake for the weekend was for a bridal shower on Sunday. The only picture I was able to get of this one was of it sitting in the passenger seat of the car during a red light on the delivery. There was no time for anything more. The picture ended up cutting part of the cake off. In addition the top hadn't been added yet, so I'll just talk about it. It was a two tier square cake. It had white fondant with black squiggles (like the one above), hot pink buttercream shell borders on both tiers and a hot pink bow made of fondant on top. One thing that I did differently for this one was the cake board. Rather than buying foam boards, cutting them down to the square and wrapping them, I used a black granite tile. The expense was only slightly more than the other, but the saved time and effort more than justified the additional cost. I'll definitely be using this route again when cake size and color allow.

Finally for tonight the airbrush system that I ordered arrived. It came late last week when I was gearing up for the weekend's cakes, so I waited until last night to break it out. When I went to plug the gun into the hose, I realized that it didn't fit. I called the company to ask about it and was told that I had ordered the wrong one. Basically I ordered a compressor that is more powerful than I need, and that's part of the reason it won't fit. I could also be prone to blowing holes in cake icing if I keep and try to use it. The customer service representative asked if I had called them prior to ordering, and I had to say that I hadn't. As dumb as it was, I just went on the website and ordered what I thought was correct. It was the middle of the night, and nobody would have been there to answer the phones anyway. How hard could it be, right? Apparently, it's quite difficult. As a result I'll be packing it back up and paying to ship it back and exchange it for the correct one (Return to sender, address unknown, no such number...)

That homework still waits, and I'm nodding off. Until next time happy grubbing.

Short & Sweet

Another week has come and gone, and I'm still in bread class. It's the class that won't stop. It's like Shari Lewis is our instructor and Lamb Chop my teammate (This is the class that doesn't end. Yes, it goes on and on, my friend...). But wait. We don't work with lamb chops in the bakery. That would be down the hall in the culinary kitchens, and I wouldn't eat them even if we did, because I don't like them (Sam I Am), but I digress. Let me just get you up to date.

I need to say that I don't hate bread class. It's been fun. I've sampled all sorts of breads that I had never heard of prior to three weeks ago, but I'm ready to try something different, and I'm not alone. Though little has been said aloud, more and more students must be growing weary of bread, because they've started missing class in groups. On Monday of this week, four students were gone. Both Tuesday and Wednesday had missing students as well. It will be interesting to see who passes. I mean being tardy is one thing, but completely missing multiple days of a less than 20 day course is just asking for failure. Yes, I've been tardy in this class. Twice. And today was yet another very close call. Before I ever made it to the highway, I encountered this:

A train (and a dashboard that needs cleaning).

After waiting on the train, I had to crank up the volume louder than normal to focus on speeding across town. When I made it to the exit, I was out of time and all I had was four minutes to make the last half mile trek from the highway to the school, park and get in the kitchen. But I made it, and that's all that mattered.

My previous post mentioned a pecan recipe that had become my favorite. That recipe has been dethroned. The new fave is the classic cinnamon roll. I've always had a soft spot for cinnamon rolls, but I fell in love with them fresh and anew when we made them in class last week. We've made them multiple times since then (Making cinnamon rolls is an easy way to get rid of dough that needs using). The sad thing is that I have a hard time stopping once I get started. Add in a tall glass of cold milk, and it's a lost cause. Considering this and the fact that I eat Bueno nearly every day, I know that I need an intervention. I have to say goodbye to the cinnamon rolls. I actually threw a full pan of them in the trash yesterday to start the boycott. My tight fitting chef's jacket wouldn't let me have them, and nobody else in the class wanted them (because we're tired of breads). Thinking of letting go made me think of an old Elton John song about a yellow brick road, and I couldn't refrain from reworking the words a little.

When are you gonna slow down?
Get that fork out of your hand.
I should be out on the track.
I should have listened to my old chef.
You know you can't eat those forever.
It's gonna catch up with you.
Metabolism slows, getting kinda old.
This boy's too young to not be seeing his shoo-ooo-es.
So goodbye cinnamon roll.
I already have plenty jowls.
Can barely fit in my pants now.
I'm pushing back from the trough...

R.I.P.

There is so much more that has happened in the last week that I want to share, but I've grown tired and time won't stand still before me. I let the sun go down long before I was ready for it to, and now I need to sleep. Though sorry seems to be the hardest word to say, I'm saying it now.

In light of the great weather we've been having, gather some friends, find a patio and enjoy some happy grubbing!

Biga, Baba & Baklava

It's been one week since you looked at me... and even longer since I've blogged, but you won't have to wait two days for me to apologize. I'm sorry and offer no excuse other than pure and simple slacking. If you have forgiven the neglect, accepted the apology and are still reading, let's get you caught up.

The previous post mentioned starting a new bread course with a new instructor, and class has gone on long enough for me to know that I'm over bread and that the new instructor rocks. First the bread. In an earlier Intro to Baking course, we spent two days making breads such as challah and brioche. During the last week, we have revisited each of these in addition to working with more types of breads and shapes than I can recall without notes. Among the first things we made were starters for some of the recipes. We made two kinds - a biga and a poolish (yes, two Os). The biga made another song come to mind, and it was one of those that gets stuck in my head. I spent the rest of the day mentally singing 'Biga than all my problems, biga than all my fears...'. Since then we've worked on ciabatta, multigrain, pain de mie, craquelin, baguettes (Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!), batards, tabatiere, ficelle, gugelhopf, pannetone, baba (ba ba ba ba Barbara Ann) and many more. Some taste good and others not so much. Some we load with cinnamon, sugar and butter and others we ruin by adding raisins, pistachios and hazelnuts and such. The bread class is officially half over at this point.

A three strand braid of challah dough with cinnamon & sugar.

We also made pizza on two occasions. On the first day that we made pizza a chef from another class (non pastry) almost sent me over the edge by critiquing the way I cut my group's pizza. The pizza had just come out of the oven, and I was cutting it too slowly for his liking. He was there to mooch food in case you were wondering. Even though he had already taken food from other groups, he still wanted more. The man isn't my instructor, and we've never had a conversation, yet he felt inclined to rudely tell me how to do it... faster, more muscle, etc. He asked where I learned to cut pizza. I told him it was my pizza and my roller but I don't think he heard for his own obnoxious ranting (I should have asked him where he learned to teach or interact with adult students). I do tend to work with food more slowly than others. Most people who have dined with me know this. I'm often the last one eating and have looked up many times through the years to find friends watching me eat (creepy). Our pizza needed to be cut based on topping location. It was not all the same. I knew where the cuts belonged based on the toppings, and I like neat and clean cuts. In the end I cut my one piece and then walked away while he ranted on. Our pizza was gone in less than two minutes because of the chef and other more polite thieves. One team member who helped make the pizza got only a very small piece with toppings she didn't select, because she happened to be out of the room when the visitors snatched it up.

On the second day of pizza making, Mr. Obnoxious came back into our kitchen wanting some. He was putting his arm around people and trying to suck up to them to get some. The pizzas weren't ready yet, and nobody wanted to share with him since he had stolen such large amounts from almost everyone previously. The chef had to leave the kitchen empty handed, but he was mad and called us all 'stingy MF'ers' on his way out the door - only he didn't abbreviate. He also stated that it was gonna 'suck for us when we want some real food'. Such a classy guy. And he's an instructor. I would have withdrawn and found an office job long ago if I had to deal with him on a regular basis.

But the bad chef can serve as a segue to our good chef. The new guy is the bomb. He has rules and expectations, but he is laid back and hilarious. When I asked if the multigrain dough looked okay, he said it looked like a mouse had been loose in it (grains = droppings). When a student was standing in the foyer outside the bakery on her cell phone instead of returning from lunch, he called us all to the window to stare at her. When another student was mouthing and wouldn't stop, he kicked her out. He has years of experience and shows us shortcuts that he has learned along the way. He also shared with us a recipe from his collection, and though it isn't exactly bread, it is my favorite thus far.

The recipe is called pecan diamonds. It's a very thin sweet crust topped with a filling of brown sugar, butter, granulated sugar, honey, heavy cream and eight cups of chopped pecans. It's then baked. The recipe has been made twice, and I prefer the under cooked version, because it stays gooey. It's similar to baklava (Say what you wish, It's yours! True dish! How 'bout a little more baklava?) The fully cooked version is crisp and not my fave. For those old co-workers or those who know me personally and are questioning the obvious, yes, I have probably gained weight in the last few months. I'm behaving like an ostrich and avoiding the scales, so I can't answer with certainty, but there is a nagging suspicion that I need to put down the bread, butter and pecan diamonds (Come lay 'em down, come lay 'em down).

Pecan Diamonds made with walnuts instead of pecans.
One friend said they should be kept under lock and key.

Speaking of co-workers takes me back to something that happened earlier in the week. I was having dinner at Bros. Houligan (eat more gravy) with a friend when an old Fleetwood Mac song came on in the background. It was 'Don't Stop', and it transported me back to the summer and fall of 2006. I was still a trainer and using the tune as a sort of merger theme song for classes and work related photo collections. I was trying to be the corporate player and keep a smile on to encourage others to believe that we really were bigger and stronger together when in reality I had a strong hunch that we had just climbed into the proverbial handbasket and started our descent. I won't be bitter and trash the company or mention the 1% raises that were given to some members of my team or the 60% compensation increase that the CEO took last year according to the Chicago Tribune. I'll just say that I think I'm still grieving and moving around (and backward?) in the stages of DABDA.

On a more exciting note, I finally bit the bullet and ordered an airbrush system for cake decorating. After looking online for product comparisons and reviews, I still wasn't sure which to go with. The final decision was made based on what I've seen the decorators use on Challenge, The Cake Boss and Ace of Cakes. The system should arrive next week, and I'm looking forward to playing, er, working with it. I've always wanted to do graffiti on a brick wall or train car (on a warm summer's evening on a train bound for nowhere, I met up with a gambler), and this should be similar and better tasting - even if it likely won't smell as good as spray paint.

The family reunion that I worked on over the weekend went well. The wife had told me that the reunion was going to be a very casual event, but we ended up going with white linens and fresh floral arrangements on every table and a huge spread of food. I've worked with her on a couple of other projects, and she always impresses me. These clients are also some of the nicest folks I've ever met (no, they don't read this in case you think I'm sucking up), and they have a way of making you feel like a million bucks when you talk to them. Based on their comments, you would have thought that I hung the moon or cured cancer instead of throwing linens on tables and baking. Since this blog is supposed to be about food (though someone told me I should change the name since I have so many song references), I'll discuss the desserts. I pulled an all-nighter (which really isn't that bad) to make miniature cinnamon bundt cakes, chocolate bundt cakes, chocolate chip cookies, iced sugar cookies and fresh fruit/lemon curd tarts.

In light of the previous paragraph, the oven has obviously been repaired. The repairman came last Wednesday and replaced the heating element in the main oven. He was in and out in about 30 minutes, and the oven works like a charm. In addition the repairman told me about a coupon in the telephone book that saved me $25 off of the bill. It was great service, and for those in the Tulsa area, I strongly recommend using the Maytag store at 71st & HWY 169.

Okay. It's late even for me, so I'll stop for now.

Happy Grubbing!

The Holiday Is Over - Back To Life (back to reality)

'Twas a dark and stormy night (the thunder rolls, and the lightning strikes) when the worn and weary prodigal blogger returned to his laptop and logged in. It had been an extended holiday weekend with no school or significant obligations to speak of, yet the rambling blogger was quite exhausted and had little to say other than the fact that his four day weekend should have consisted of five days instead of the aforementioned four.

Yes, I'm back after the Easter weekend. We had no school on Friday of last week or yesterday, so it was a nice break - even if it did fly by. As far as class goes, you may recall that I mentioned another certification in the last post. That test was on Wednesday, and I passed. Somehow the review questions used for class discussions were straight from the actual exam, so it ended up being a breeze. Of the 75 questions on the exam, I had seen all but about five of them in advance. You say it was unethical, I say it was grace (potato, potahto), because it was certainly unmerited favor considering the fact that I neglected studying on my own time. In the end I made 100% on the exam and was baffled by those (yes, multiple) who failed in spite of having discussed the questions and answers in advance. Twice. Given my previous work experience I understand that some simply don't test well, but still. The questions and multiple choice answers were verbatim.

Today's return to class brought with it the start of a new course, International Breads, and a new instructor. The instructor, whose name I can't recall, is also new to the school. New as in today was his first full day, but he has already shown a very different view than that of our previous instructor. While the previous instructor had no tolerance for gum in the bakeshop, the new instructor asked if anyone had any, because he wanted a piece. While the previous instructor assigned homework each night, the new instructor isn't a fan of it and stated that he doesn't like or desire to grade our papers. As a result homework will be minimal for the next three weeks, and this is very good news. The most exciting thing about the new instructor, however, is that he believes in 45 minute lunches! My lunch buddy and I were able to catch up over a leisurely meal at Bueno without inhaling. On a less than positive note, the instructor has already shown his 'extensive' vocabulary. I suppose I'll become immune to it at some point, but I'm still amazed at the number of adults who think the use of profanity in common conversation is perfectly acceptable. Yes, I understand that I complained about this topic in the last post, that you're tired of hearing about it and I should let it go, so I'm moving on (I'm moving on. At last I can see, life has been patiently waiting for me). I just needed to say it one more time. That's all. Really. Maybe. Okay, For now.

There was also more bong talk today. Actually bong talk was taken to an entirely new level due to the fact that it came complete with visuals. While we were killing time and using salt dough to practice shaping breads and roses, one student decided to mold an oversized bong instead. This doesn't offend me. To each his (or her) own. It's just that part of me finds it sad that people I interact with on a daily basis consider such a lifestyle living when they have so much potential (that a life of great potential is dismissed, inconsequential...).

On a more positive note, the repairman is coming to inspect my oven tomorrow! Had I told you that it died? I think so. I need sleep and can't remember what I've told you. I started a new class with a new instructor today after a four day weekend. Just kidding. Hopefully the oven will be repaired with little expense involved. If it has had the biscuit (that's Canadian for 'can't be repaired' according to a good friend), I saw a beautiful oven at a local restaurant supply store today. Granted the new oven isn't for home use, but I lusted for it just the same. I could be so much more efficient with a professional oven. And a baker's rack/speed rack. After a few moments of staring and daydreaming, I wiped the drool from my chin and walked over to the digital scales and then made a small purchase. Most of the recipes from class are measured in weight, so the new inexpensive scale will come in handy.

Baking projects of a personal nature for the week aren't huge, but I've been retained to work on set up and desserts for a local family reunion this weekend. It isn't an elaborate event, but I do need a working oven. Pray that tomorrow's repairman is amazing. The rest of the month is pretty slow except for an order that came in earlier tonight. The order is for a 50th anniversary cake to be delivered in a few weeks.

That's really it for now. The pace of class will pick up tomorrow, but for tonight that's it - not to mention the fact that the sound of rain is putting me to sleep.

So until tomorrow (the sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar...), happy grubbing.

PS - In case you're wondering what happy grubbing is, it's simple. It's a great meal shared with those you love. For example: the incredible spread that I was fortunate enough to enjoy at Mawmoo's on Easter was happy grubbing. Smoked ribs and ham, baked beans, coleslaw, corn, fried okra, mashed potatoes, deviled eggs, made from scratch hot rolls, butter and sweet tea. And dessert. As much as I enjoy and go on about Bueno, there is no happier grubbing than that done at a grandmother's table (grandma got ran over by a reindeer).

Booze, Bongs & Bed

On Thursday of last week, we left the bake shop and headed for the classroom to study Hospitality and Restaurant Management. This is another of the courses designed and offered by the NRA (That's the National Restaurant Association - not the National Rifle Association [which should not be confused with the American Honky Tonk Bar Association]). The course, with a textbook of over 240 pages and only four days to cover it in, is far from exciting. I've been nodding off since day one, and another certification hangs in the balance. The online exam for said certificate is tomorrow afternoon, and here I sit blogging instead of studying.

The highlights of the last few days have been breaks and lunches, for it's during these times that my real education begins. It's during these times that I hear comments like, "Yeah, I'm kind of a bong connoisseur" and "Man, that blunt I smoked this morning didn't help. Just made me tired." The bong comment didn't really surprise me. It was spoken by a younger person who frequently discusses not remembering what happened the night before. The sleep inducing blunt comment did catch me a little off guard though. It was spoken by someone older and came at me while I was dining on a peaceful lunch of MexiDip & Chips. Sure, I probably shouldn't have been surprised considering the fact that I have on more than one occasion thought the guy returned from breaks smelling as though he had found the school's stash of cooking wines, but my mind didn't immediately grasp the blunt comment. I was thinking Blunt (as in James Blunt and You're Beautiful [and it's parody - my cubicle, my cubicle]) or a blunt object (as in Mrs. Peacock in the study with a candlestick). When it dawned on me what he said, I thought I'd try to mask the incredulous look and go with it. So I said with some semblance of a straight face something along the lines of "A blunt. What is that? Marijuana?" I honestly didn't know. He told me that it could have been marijuana among other things, and the conversation changed shortly thereafter.

I share such outtakes to help reinforce an earlier post discussing the completely new to me culture that I experience on a daily basis. Between the discussions of drugs, alcohol and the incessant profanity that would, as the saying goes, make a sailor blush with shame (Mississippi Squirrel Revival, anyone?), I sometimes feel as though I've inadvertently staggered onto a reality television show. Stay tuned, folks, to see how the conservative church boy reacts when a student uses 18 four letter words in one sentence! And one more related thing... A student got sent home last week, because she (yes, a very lady like female) threatened another student (a male) with a knife (I will cut you). If I ran the sous, er zoo, Lizzie Borden would have been expelled, and the instigator suspended for a day or two, but I don't, and she reported back to school the next morning. Thankfully this did not take place in my class. Culinary (not pastry) students were involved, but this just goes to show what a different environment I now reside in.

To my knowledge we never had associates threaten peers back in the corporate world. I had an awesome team of individuals to work with, and I don't say that just because they minded their manners (or because some of them read this blog). They rocked (my world, you know you did, and everything I own I give), and while I understand and am okay with this huge life change, I can't help thinking fondly of the past every morning when I race down the highway and glance up to see the 1215, 1400 and 1437 buildings. I stopped by the Memorial location of the corporation today to deliver a few leftover tarts as a surprise for a friend who just took a job there. It may have been the chef costume or the elapsed time, but the security guard acted like he didn't know me. It was like I was a bother to him, and somehow I think it bothered me more than it should have.

Please don't take this walk down memory lane or cry for yesterday (yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away) as a slam to my classmates. They are good people, good people who like illegal substances in some cases, but good people nonetheless, and I usually enjoy their company. Aside from the knife wielding crazies down the hall, I don't think any of them are excessively malicious. It's just that I'm still adjusting to the less than professional atmosphere. A kitchen is a far cry from a conference room or cubicle.

But moving on. With the start of the new course comes the final grades of our last course. The previous course was Classical Pastry, and pictures of the class projects were posted a few days ago. Though I was able to maintain an A, my percentage dropped from the Introduction to Baking course. I think the biggest reason was that I bombed a quiz in the middle of the pastry course. It may be rationalizing, but I think the reason I bombed the quiz was because I overslept on the day of the review, missed it and earned a tardy (immediate loss of points) at the same time. The score of the quiz was something like a 62%, and I was devastated but not surprised. I hadn't prepared for it and deserved the low grade. Luckily the quiz scores made up only 10% of the final grade, and I actually studied for the final exam.

I hadn't shared the tardy in any blogs for a couple of reasons. The first reason is that it happened on the insane week of three cakes and during the 12 day break from blogging. The second reason is that I've been irritated at my lack of discipline in the mornings. I'm a night owl and I like to sleep, and this makes for terrible mornings (I don't wanna get [pronounced git] up, baby, let's turn off the phone). When I was younger I tried to condition my body to function on very little sleep. I thought I could be a completed project producing machine if I worked more and slept less. Now that I'm older I still wish I could consistently make it on four hours of sleep a night, but I know that such a feat isn't realistic. I was contemplating all of this while rushing to class this morning, and a classic Joan Jett song came to mind, so I dedicated the tune to my bed, cranked up the volume and put the pedal to the metal (I hate myself for loving you, can't break free from the things that you do...).

Right now my aforementioned thirty something need for sleep is showing, so I'll stop the rambling for now.

Happy Grubbing.

Oh. One more thing. (Do you say PS on blogs? What's the rule?) I'll be doing some happy grubbing myself in June when the first 24-hour restaurant in town opens. While it's just an IHOP, it's less than five minutes from the house, will be open all night and will likely spur further development! Did I mention that it will be open around the clock? Wi-fi is also available in the area. I could sit and blog (or stalk people on Facebook) over pancakes at any time.

Happy Grubbing indeed.

Progress at last - IHOP construction site.

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

Sadly the weekend is officially over in 10 minutes, and I need to give a quick update.

The good in the title is referring to a lemon curd recipe from our textbook. I attempted the curd for the first time yesterday and was pleasantly surprised when I liked it. There is something about (the way you look tonight) the word 'curd' that simply doesn't sound good. A friend who was nearby while the stuff was being made kept hearing and thinking of a word sounding like and rhyming with but very different from curd when she or someone else asked what I was making. (I won't share it in writing. We have standards to maintain here at the cake whiskerer.) Lemon just hasn't ever been my favorite flavor. I mean I dig the smell in cleaning products, and they look nice in a bowl (or apothecary jar), but I've never been a fan of consuming them aside from drinking their juice in beverages. The lemon curd may be one of my new favorites though. It was made yesterday to be used in fruit tarts that were being donated to a baked goods auction (Sold to the lady in the second row, she's an eight, she's a nine, she's a 10, I know...) at the church house. There were six three-inch tarts and one 10-inch tart, and if my memory serves me correctly, they sold for just over $150. They were made of a from scratch sweet pastry dough crust, a thin layer of white chocolate to provide a moisture barrier for said crust, the lemon curd, random pieces of strawberry, raspberry, blueberry, blackberry and kiwi and a glaze made of white wine and apricot preserves. (Yes, I went back to the liquor store for the wine, and yes, I used alcohol in the food for the church auction. Needless to say we had some good church tonight!)

One of the smaller tarts before glazing.

The bad news is that my main oven stopped working last night. I say 'main' as though I have multiples. Unfortunately I don't. What I have is a normal household oven that happens to be split into two - a smaller one atop the bigger bottom one. The bottom oven is the one that I prefer for baking, but last night it decided to put on a small fireworks display and then stop warming properly. I'm not sure if it's a lost cause yet. I'll hopefully be able to find something out from Maytag in the next few days. I'm holding out hope (to you even when this world breaks your heart in two) that it will be an inexpensive fix. Though it was of the 'scratch and dent' variety when I bought it, the stove isn't very old, and I'm not ready to replace it. Until it's fixed or repaired, I'll be making do with the smaller oven. One good thing is that I don't have any cake orders for a week and a half. Between the water leak last week and the stove acting out this week, I'm beginning to wonder why I'm a homeowner. An apartment with maintenance workers and lawn care sounds pretty good some days.

And now for the ugly. This weekend's cake was a small double layer 12-inch round cake. This was for an old co-worker/friend who is aware of my situation. She understands that I'm still in training. She was gracious enough to be practiced upon. The only stipulations given were that the cake needed to be marbled, and it needed to say, "Happy Birthday." Well, marbling isn't something that I've done much of. I know it's a simple concept, but I ended up not getting a very good marble effect. I'm thinking of using piping bags or dueling funnels to marble the cake batter next time. The other issue with the cake was that it was unattractive. The writing was small, sloppy and off center, but it was in melted chocolate and there was no erasing it. If I had known the name of the birthday person (it was an in-law of the friend), it possibly could have been added to help correct the spacing issue, but I didn't know the name, and the cake wasn't made at a time of day conducive to calling folks and retaining their friendship. In the end I delivered the cake on a complimentary basis. I can't accept money for something that I wouldn't want to serve or pay for myself. So the client got a free less than pretty cake, and I got a few more lessons and things to try differently next time.

The cake is pictured below, but it isn't without some level of consternation that I share it. I don't like it when stuff doesn't turn out as it should, and I like even less letting other people see my mistakes. I believe that presentation makes a huge difference (Use the linen over the plastic. Use the china over the styrofoam. Sit in every chair in the classroom and adjust the height before the new trainees arrive so that the chairs are uniform). I realize that this blog was intended to chronicle the journey 'from baking mediocrity to wherever it is that I'm headed' and that there are already other pictures of far less than perfect projects posted, but piping errors simply shouldn't be happening at this stage of the game. But the error did happen, and so I'll swallow my pride (and bite my tongue, pretend I'm okay with it all, act like there's nothing wrong. Is it over yet?) and post the pic. If nothing else it will serve as a reminder to do better next time.


Finally and on an unrelated note, I want to send a message to any readers who were affected by the corporate FEP move on Friday. You know who you are. While it may seem like your world is in shambles, try to think positively. Try to enjoy your first normal business day of unemployment. Get some rest. Have a nice lunch. Take a nap. Visit the zoo. Do something that you've been too busy to do. (Ooh, that rhymes!) Sure, you may need to find another job soon, but don't stress yet. You've been on a roller coaster of emotions for nearly eight months and working hard for much longer, and you could use some rest. I'm not suggesting you become a junkie or let those around you support you forever, but take a minute to breathe. Doors of opportunity are bound to open soon, and when they do you'll be off and running on new tasks and responsibilities - and you'll be wishing you could take a break (You're gonna miss this, you're gonna want this back, you're gonna wish these days...), so take one while you can. That's all.

Happy Grubbing.

Twenty Thousand (plus a few) Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Considering this and the fact that I was told I'm quite wordy (again) after the last post, I'm uploading a bunch of pictures (Dim the lights, lock the door, spread your pictures on the floor) tonight of some recent school projects, Monday's Chef's Ball and yesterday's Grand Buffet.

Chef's plated version of a poached pear from last week.

Our unglazed petit fours from class.

My first attempt at making an edible rose. It needed another petal around the bud in the center.
When we got in the car at lunch, I couldn't help introducing my passengers to Tanya Tucker and Delta Dawn in honor of the days flower making. That's one song that always gets stuck in my head. (Delta Dawn, what's that flower you've got on? Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?) Neither my lunch buddy nor the candy selling passenger scrunched in the back seat were impressed.

Creme Brulee was a ton of fun, and I'll be buying a blowtorch in the very near future.
(They call me the fireman, that's my name...)

A tray of assorted eclairs, profiteroles and petit fours that the class made (except for the small red striped squares - those were purchased. In the business they're referred to as convenience items).

Puff pastry strips wrapped around cream horn molds and waiting to be baked. The P was just an extra strip.

Tarts that were baked with the puff pastry dough atop apples and then inverted. Not too appealing to the eye but they tasted okay (Not as good as Mawmoo's apple pie or Nanny's apple cobbler, but okay).


The ice sculpture from the Chef's Ball.


A small sampling of the seating at the Chef's Ball. I was impressed by the Silo Event Center.


The completely chocolate centerpiece that Chef made for the Grand Buffet.
I knocked it over at one point. Thankfully it didn't break, and Chef didn't see it.

Spinach Souffle en Croute
(Spinach, cream cheese, seasoning, pastry crust, goat cheese, red bell pepper)

Salmon Mousse Horns

More Spinach Souffle en Croute with Chicken, Apple & Candied Walnut Gourgeres lining the edge

Cinnamon Creme Caramel

Caramel Chocolate and Pear Mousse Towers with Drageed Hazelnuts

Balsamic Poached Pears with Gorgonzola Mousse

Dark Chocolate Pots de Creme with Brandied Cherries

Lemon Meringue Tartlets

Frangipane Petit Fours

Assorted Petits Fours

The above is not an all inclusive list of the offerings at the Grand Buffet, but it is all of the pictures I snapped.

Happy Grubbing & Happy Friday.