I am a big believer in iPod therapy. When you turn on your iPod and all of the sudden a song comes on that perfectly fits the moment. Beyonce when you're going through a break up. Jimmy Buffett when you want to be lying on a beach. And when I left the intermediate practical exam, my iPod's random choice was "Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty. A song I never listen to deliberately, but Tom punctuated the moment exactly: "I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing."
Intermediate was overall, umm…not my favorite. I was second in my class in Basic, and then I kind of fizzled. I still did well, but not fantastic. I have always been impatient. I even hate the word "intermediate." Middle. Interim. Waiting. Blah.
I never got into the groove in the kitchen. Nothing was really exciting me. I kind of felt lost and often time just wanted to finish and be done with whatever we were making. In my meeting with the Intermediate chef, I asked the same questions I asked in Basic, what can I do to be better, etc. And then suddenly, I said with a long preamble that I was not trying to be rude at all, "What is the point of Intermediate? It seems like we are doing the same things we did in Basic."
The chef smirked, and replied that we are perfecting what we learned in Basic. We can't just start interpreting the recipes yet, we have to do exactly what they show us in the demo. Everything Chef demonstrates is a technique he wants us to learn and master. Not only techniques, but getting faster and more organized. Not an exciting answer, but it was true. We ain't got wings. I had to refine my skills and keep working to make it to the promise land of Superior.
There are few things I remember learning in high school, but I have never forgotten the teachers telling us in 10th grade that "sophomore" means "wise fool." Because that's exactly what you are at that stage. One year under your belt and you think you own the place. Then you get knocked down a few pegs and realize you know nothing.
So, maybe I did walk into my sophomore year of culinary school thinking I knew how to work the system. And, maybe the chefs had to knock me down a few pegs. I always think I can run before I walk. I need that kick in the rear every now and then. Coming down is the hardest thing.
Yesterday officially marked the end of Intermediate. The graduation ceremony had poor attendance. Most people are traveling and, I guess, if you went to the Basic graduation and are going to Superior, Intermediate is kind of the poor forgotten middle child. That being said, the few of us that did go had a great time: more champagne to go around and more time to chat with the chefs.
Looking back, I learned a lot in Intermediate. How to prep and clean calamari, butcher a rabbit, make baguettes and developed a serious love for espelette pepper. I made four of the most amazing friends I could have ever asked for when moving across the globe not knowing a sole. Had picnics in the park. My best friends from college came to visit. My mom and I toured Normandy. Countless bottles of champagne and, ohhh, the food.
Wow. I am officially a Superior student. "So, I've started out, for God knows where. I guess I'll know when I get there…" I better learn to fly fast!
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