Last Friday was an epically strange day, and please believe me when I tell you that the whole time this was going on, I kept feeling like I was trapped in this movie.
But I'm not even supposed to be here today!
When I woke up that morning I was feeling the extreme pull to just stay in bed and hide under my covers until work that afternoon. I even rolled over and asked Dave what he would think if I stayed home from school that day and he just said, "It's up to you." And he's a guy, so there's no weird subtext hidden under there, he really meant that it was up to me, but I just couldn't handle the guilt of staying home when I wasn't deathly ill, so I trudged into the shower and headed off to school. It was our first day in the kitchen after breads, and unfortunately Chef Katie wasn't with us because she had to be with her father in the hospital. We wound up having the same substitute as we did from this post, but I wasn't that worried. I knew we weren't doing anything too crazy, plus, there was an ace in the hole that I would've punched myself in the face had I learned later that I'd stayed home and missed it...BB wasn't there!! I can't remember her ever missing class before, but apparently she was out of town over the weekend so she didn't come in on Friday. This was the best thing ever, especially because she has a little crush (and by crush, I of course mean that she's a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen) on our substitute Chef. So really, I was happy for him because it meant that he wouldn't have that scared squirrely look on his face, or have to back out of the room so as not to have to show any weakness.
But I digress...
We found out that for that day we'd be making challah (holla!) solely for the purposes of turning it into bread pudding later on in the course, peanut brittle and marshmallows. We'd made the dough for the challah already, and our Chef wanted us to start the morning with that, but it needed to rise/come to room temperature after being in the fridge, so we all started getting everything ready for the peanut brittle. So far so good, Julie and I were placed at the work table at far end of the kitchen, right in front of the first oven, so we took it upon ourselves to turn on the ovens to get them ready for the challah baking later in the morning. However, we noticed pretty quickly that one of the culinary chefs had commandeered the oven directly behind us for ribs...pans full to the brim of ribs and meat juice...trust me, this will be relevant later on.
The Chef showed us how to make a 6-braid on the challah, because even though we'll eventually just be cutting them up to make the bread pudding, it doesn't mean that we can't still make them look pretty - right? This will definitely be something that I have to keep practicing to get perfect because trust me, the first time you do it it's mind-bending! I think it came out pretty well for our first try though, so I'm pretty happy with our little experimental trial.
By now the smell of the ribs was wafting through the kitchen, not that it mattered how far it got since they were cooking 6 inches from my face. It was getting worse too as everyone kept opening the oven, not realizing that it had been overtaken by enemy forces, eventually we had to make an announcement just to keep people from trying to barbecue their breads. It's too bad Dave wasn't there...he probably would've just stood there the entire time, staring at the oven waiting for the ribs to be done.
The peanut brittle came out really well too. I love peanut brittle...it's salty and sweet deliciousness, and it had the perfect crunch to it. After I brought it home, Dave and I kept having to wrap it back up because we couldn't stop eating pieces of it. I'm thinking about possibly adding it as an item for sale on my etsy site, what do you think? By the way, did I mention that I had my first official etsy sale?? Someone bought one of my jars of hot fudge! And the best part? I don't even know her! A complete stranger felt compelled enough to try something that I made!
Deliciousity
Around this time the rib smell was really starting to get to me. I'm not a vegetarian, but I'm also not a huge carnivore either. Maybe it was the fact that it was that it was that kind of smell at such an early morning time coupled with the fact that I was already feeling kind of out of it? Who knows...all I can tell you is that I was not feeling so happy. We made our marshmallows, but were having a hell of a time trying to get them off the silpats. We kept trying to suggest that we douse them with powdered sugar, but the Chef kept insisting that we should have to need it because we had the silpat. *sigh* I'm hoping to get a different recipe from one of my classmates that she makes in a pan as opposed to piping out - I would definitely like to try making that one. S'mores anyone?
So the main event...The evil rib Chef came back into our kitchen to collect his meat, and so Julie and I had to inch off to the side, but we were still blocked in by some of our other classmates, so there wasn't really anywhere to go. So there he is, sheet pans full of ribs and meat juice and he had to do something to get rid of the juice before transferring them...so what would you do? If you answered, "pour the juice on the floor in a cascading river of meaty flavor" then you are apparently on the same wavelength as him - because that's exactly what he did. It got everywhere! He was pouring it in an attempt to have it go into one of the grates in the floor (mind you, one that were never supposed to pour anything in to because it'll stink up the kitchen to high hell), but it still got all over the floor and splashed up onto Julie's and my stuff. Julie's cookbook is now essentially a book of smelly meat - not fun. So this is the point where I just couldn't take it anymore. The smell, the sight of the meat juice and it getting everywhere just sent me over the edge. I clamped my hand over my mouth and made a break for the kitchen door, bowling over the rest of my classmates as I went. Luckily, I managed to make it to the bathroom in time before anything truly disgusting happened, and let me tell you, it's pretty embarrasing to be a grown adult hunced over the toilet of your school's bathroom.
Everyone was really sweet to me though. My partner Julie was waiting for me in the lobby of the bathroom, glass of water in one hand and cool damp paper towel in the other. I managed to pull myself together okay and made it back to the classroom. Some of my classmates were even so kind as to start washing my entire toolbox and tool set while I was in the bathroom, just in case any lingering meat juice was on it - isn't that nice? I couldn't stop laughing/crying, and the following snippet is part of a real conversation with my classmate Mark (if you aren't a fan of amusing, innuendo filled conversations, you may want to skip ahead):
So the main event...The evil rib Chef came back into our kitchen to collect his meat, and so Julie and I had to inch off to the side, but we were still blocked in by some of our other classmates, so there wasn't really anywhere to go. So there he is, sheet pans full of ribs and meat juice and he had to do something to get rid of the juice before transferring them...so what would you do? If you answered, "pour the juice on the floor in a cascading river of meaty flavor" then you are apparently on the same wavelength as him - because that's exactly what he did. It got everywhere! He was pouring it in an attempt to have it go into one of the grates in the floor (mind you, one that were never supposed to pour anything in to because it'll stink up the kitchen to high hell), but it still got all over the floor and splashed up onto Julie's and my stuff. Julie's cookbook is now essentially a book of smelly meat - not fun. So this is the point where I just couldn't take it anymore. The smell, the sight of the meat juice and it getting everywhere just sent me over the edge. I clamped my hand over my mouth and made a break for the kitchen door, bowling over the rest of my classmates as I went. Luckily, I managed to make it to the bathroom in time before anything truly disgusting happened, and let me tell you, it's pretty embarrasing to be a grown adult hunced over the toilet of your school's bathroom.
Everyone was really sweet to me though. My partner Julie was waiting for me in the lobby of the bathroom, glass of water in one hand and cool damp paper towel in the other. I managed to pull myself together okay and made it back to the classroom. Some of my classmates were even so kind as to start washing my entire toolbox and tool set while I was in the bathroom, just in case any lingering meat juice was on it - isn't that nice? I couldn't stop laughing/crying, and the following snippet is part of a real conversation with my classmate Mark (if you aren't a fan of amusing, innuendo filled conversations, you may want to skip ahead):
Brooke: You guys, that's so sweet...you didn't have to do that
Mark: Well, it was really just an excuse to see what you keep in here
Brooke: You know Mark...you move really fast! I told you earlier that I like your aftershave, and now you've got your hands all over my box!
Mark: Well, I'd never touched one before, I wanted to see what it was like!
Ha! Plus, the best part was that the Chef was literally standing 1 foot away, shaking his head and laughing the entire time. Then I tried to help my friend Michele put some of the rest of my tools away and she grabbed the box away and said, "First you try to steal my friend Monica, and now you won't let me have your toolbox?! Geeze!!" You win Michele, I am happy to share Monica's friendship with you. We can work out the details of the custody agreement later. :)
Eventually I wound up going home a little early. I didn't want to, but there wasn't a lot left for us to do that day. As I mentioned before, the prospective students had kind of taken over the school by that point and were being served the evil ribs and other barbecue foods by the culinary students by that point. Our substitute Chef was really nice to me too...he told me that he spoke to the rib Chef and told him that he can't do stuff like that anymore. And seriously, who doesn't want to be known as the pastry student who got one of the teacher's kicked out of one of the kitchens. You can't buy that kind of notoriety! Ha ha.
And on that note, I think I'm going to go needlepoint myself a pillow that says, "Real Friends Will Clean Meat Juice Off Your Tools." No explanation needed...right? Later that night I turned to Dave and said, "The next time I mention that I'm thinking about staying home from school, I want you to look me right in the eye and say, 'Well...you could wind up being attacked by meat juice.'"
And that would be the end of it.
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