The Scorching Student surfaces!

I've gotten through a full month of school!  In that time I've gotten my Servsafe certification, meaning I know how food can kill you and how to prevent it. I've learned how to clean the kitchen. I've learned the basic principles of cooking and the 13 cooking methods:  braising, stewing, simmering, boiling, poaching, steaming, baking, roasting, pan frying, deep frying, sauteing, broiling and grilling.

And I've learned a whole bunch of other stuff.  You know?  Stuff.  I did learn that I have to keep my thumb tucked under while slicing to prevent nearly cutting off the tip of my left thumb.  Yeah, it was gross.  My knife skills are coming along.  Practice is the key.  Practice practice practice.  Now that we've moved on to stocks, soups and sauces I need to practice at home.  This family will have the best eyes on the block based on all the carrots I'll be cutting up.

I got through my first written exam and my first practical exam.  The written exam involved short essay questions and a lot of kitchen math, some of which tripped me up.  As soon as I have it back in my hands I'm going to be asking my instructor for some assistance.  The practical exam required I demonstrate four cooking methods (stewing, deep frying, sauteing and grilling) along with my preparation, how clean I worked, how I handled the time issue, presentation and taste.  I completed the four dishes in time to take on the bonus dish, pan fried zucchini.  For that one, I got to choose between breading and batter dipping.  I selected bread crumbs and then had to go take a look to see what we had to cover with crumbs.  Zucchini it was!

I did B work.  I messed up french fries.  That's just a fact.  They were underdone.  But, I won't make that mistake again.  Next time, my fries will be brown and crisp.

My class started with 16 and has dropped to 11.  Of the four women who started, three of us are still hanging in.  Our fellow female broke her foot the first week of school, which wasn't treated quickly, had to be re-broken to be set but swelling prevented that for a long time.  I'm hoping she'll be starting with a class coming up in the near future.

This week we've been making stocks.  White chicken stock, white beef stock, chicken stock where the bones are roasted first, beef stock where the bones are roasted first, we've made it all.  Our meal at the end of our cooking time has been soups all this week made from whatever stock we're working on and whatever we have among our supplies.  Tuesday was chicken, veggies and macaroni in veggie stock.  Yesterday, we pulled the meat off the chicken bones we'd pulled out of our mass of chicken stock and turned it into chicken soup.

Between the increase in physical activity, the fact that I'm not great about breakfast or dinner I've lost six pounds.

I am pleased to say that in-fighting among my class is minimum.  There is sometimes an issue between a couple of students who take issue with another student who waits to be told what to do instead of asking what requires attention.  But that's pretty much it.  There's a group who've gotten friendly and they tend to chit-chat during lab (our time in the kitchen) which drives our instructor nuts.

The things I need to practice are my sauce making skills and clarifying butter.  I see macaroni and cheese in the future made with a true bechamel.  Anyone wiling to be my guinea pig?  Anyone?  Anyone?

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  If you find that a lifestyle change is causing you to wash your hair more often, be sure to swap to one that provides deeper moisturizing.

My book, Red Lipstick and How It Saved My Life My Journal From the Year I Was Crazy is now being 


offered by me as an ebook. If you'd like to read it send $5 via paypal: bardiclug@gmail.com and I will 


email you a copy. It's currently in ODT format so send me a message if you'd like a different format.

The Hip Housewife's gotta study!

This weekend is going to be all about studying because, you see, I have what's called 'practicals' next week.  These are tests where I demonstrate that I know the information and techniques we've been learning during the block we've just completed.

We are at the end of block 102.  This includes kitchen math, knife cut vocabulary, knife skills, kitchen vocabulary, wet and dry cooking methods including deep-frying, pan-frying, sauteing, steaming, poaching and boiling.

My exams will include a written exam where I will need to calculate new yields on recipes, costs per unit, costs per portion, how much a product costs per pound after it's been trimmed as compared to the original cost per pound.  Another written exam will test vocabulary and cooking techniques such as mise in place, mirepoix, deglaze, carmelization, Maillard reaction and refresh.

Then we move into the kitchen where I show I can cut product into the specific cuts in the correct dimensions.  From a large dice, a 3/4 inch cube, to a fine brunoise, a 1/16 inch cube along with the 2 inch strips that range from 1/4 inch square to 1/16 inch square.  I'll also need to dice an onion and chiffonade some type of leafy herb.

I'll need to use whatever I cut to demonstrate 4 cooking techniques, which I won't know until I'm given the recipe.  I'll need to quarter whatever recipe I'm given, set up my station with all my ingredients and equipment, use the proper ordering of preparation and successfully produce an acceptable finished product.

Part of my grade is going to be how clean I work.  Is my cutting board crowded?  Is my area a mess?  Do I have things out that I don't need?  Are my apron and tunic spotted?  (They shouldn't be.  I shouldn't be spattering stuff all over me. )

I know the cooking techniques.  I can set up my mise en place (you know how the chefs on telly have everything set up in little bowls with all the stuff they need?  That's mise en place.)  and work efficiently and cleanly.  I know the proper order of breading and batter dipping.

The challenge I'm facing?  Making my cuts even.  When I try to julienne I end up with a rectangle instead of a square at the end of the strip of whatever.  This weekend the family had better be looking forward to fries because I'm going to be cutting up a LOT of potatoes.  And onion soup as I'm going to dice a bunch of onions.  And carrots.  They better want some carrots.

Pass the knife steel, I'm on it!

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  When you're going to be working, keep your hair pulled back so it doesn't rest on your forehead.  It will make your hair greasy and if you have product in your hair it can cause breakouts on your forehead.

The Hip Housewife has a bit of a freakout

I've been actually cooking at school!  This is super exciting.  We get to eat what we cook and taste each other's stuff after we get the comments from our instructor.  I'm getting consistent "Well cooked, needs a little more seasoning.  But good."  I'm usually able to tell my instructor what I need to correct before she tells me.  When I hear her giving feedback I'll try listen and take a look at what she's talking about.

Today, I had a quiet little freakout in class.  Part of my program is completing 200 hours of externship in a commercial kitchen by March.  This equals out to about 10 hours a week, not totally un-doable but I have to find the place.  I'm pretty sure I have one in the bag, a bakery near my house.  The owner is also a mom who is running a niche establishment where she does one thing well instead of trying to do too much and sacrificing quality.

One of my classmates told me that she heard from another student that the culinary students couldn't complete their hours at a bakery.  I knew not to take that as gospel and decided I needed to heel-and-toe it over to career services to find out for sure.  But, I had myself a private little moment where I said to myself "Oh dear lord.  My resume needs serious work.  It's a big portion of my grade.  How the hell am I going to do this?  I'm forty fucking years old.  What the hell am I thinking?  This was a dumb idea.  Maybe I should drop out."  All that bullshit.

One thing I need to be very, very careful of is not self-sabotaging myself.  Not practicing, sliding on the homework, not applying myself in the kitchen, I need to make sure I don't do that.

Today, our instructor asked me to be the person to set up her demonstration station and yell out when a demo was about to happen.   I know what I did well and what I need to do differently next time.

This was good for me because the class as a whole didn't do very well in the organization department and the team I was going to be working with in particular.  We didn't clean as we went along or work neatly so there was no room for anything.  Things were done out of order so eggplant sat around and oxidized before we were ready to bread and pan fry them.  It took forever to do dishes and clean up and by the time we were done chef was pissed.

We stayed an extra twenty minutes past the twenty minutes we went over to finish the clean up.  Then I went over to career services to ask the counselor for clarification.  Turns out that as a culinary student, it's a *maybe* that I could do my externship at a bakery.

When I heard this my hormones, which are being wacky right now, kicked in and I started to cry.  This embarrassed me to no end.  Great.  Once I got calmed down and I was able to discuss how I could turn it from a maybe to a yes.

I'll need to send in a quick paragraph stating why I wanted to extern at this particular bakery and why I think it would be a good fit for me.  I can do that easily.

I also have the task ahead of getting my resume and cover letter into shape.  I've been at home for ten years, I'm going to need a LOT of help.  Luckily, there's the career counselor who's job it is to do that.  she won't do it FOR me, I'll need to bring one in, get feedback and make changes before meeting with her again.

And all of this scares me to death.  It'd be so much easier to go back to Barnes and Noble and schelp books for the rest of my life.

And if it's scary it's probably what I need to do.......

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  If you are suddenly in a situation where you are sweating more than usual, be sure to wash your face at least once more a day.

After a long absence, the Hip Housewife emerges!

And I'm feeling much better.  I'm pretty much healed up, but all my ab muscles have gone mmmm-bloop, a big bummer.

Onwards.

Today is a tough day for me, not for the obvious reasons, but because it's the day my grandmother died in 1999.  If there wasn't the huge reminder of the date I'd just do my general missing her, but I end up spending all day being weepy and feeling like she just died all over again.

A week after she died I wrote this:

The ferry left for Catalina today with you on board.
I stood on the beach and waved and waved and waved
And the swing band got softer and softer


You raised two sons, but I was your girl
You held me as I was christened
You watched me emerge from childhood
You saw me wed to a good man


I help you tend your windowbox garden
I laughed when we fed the ducks
I believed you would help me feed my children


And now all I know is that 
you boarded the ferry with your hat
pinned on tight and your hair just so.


I heard the band fire up and
I saw you foxtrotting as the ferry pulled away


And I waved and I waved and I waved


Long after everyone had left
I sat on the beach with the 
still and silent rusting behind me
and the lights of the pavilion floating 
in front of me like fireflies.


Wishing I could hear the Glenn Miller 
getting louder and louder as 
the ferry brought you back to shore
correcting this heartbreaking error. 

Well, at least I won't have to do that again

It all started with me saying to myself "Gor, my back hurts."  during class on Wednesday.  I thought it was aches from sitting on a folding chair for three days.  Then my tummy got upset, which I chalked up to the room being hot and the fact that my uniform is made of polyester.

But, I did very well in class that day, getting myself some bonus points on an oral pop quiz and getting several right answers.

When class was finally over I got out of my uniform jacket and started on home.  As I was driving I got a horrid pain up under my ribs that had me bent as close to double as I could get behind the wheel.  Once I was home I laid in bed, hurting and crying.  I threw up a few times, didn't feel any better.  I felt worse.

I was able to cripple myself up to school to pick up the kids and told them I needed them to entertain themselves since I didn't feel good.  And I have to say, I could not have asked them to be any better.  They got themselves snacks, took care of each other, came and checked on me and I was able to talk Zoe through making dinner for herself and her brother.

Meanwhile, I was texting with Scott, telling him what was happening.  Of course, it was a day he'd gotten a ride to work, thinking I'd come pick him up.  That wasn't going to be happening.  I was going to be either lying in bed or lying on the floor.

After I'd been doing this for five hours I decided I needed to go to urgent care.  My excellent friend Chris agreed to come over and watch my kids.  She ended up staying until one in the morning.

Urgent Care saw me quickly, just to say that I needed to go to the emergency room, it was probably my gallbladder.  What?  I've never had any of issues with my gallbladder or any of my internal organs for that matter.  I'm really healthy!  My family has a history of being healthy.  As I put it, they go and go and go and go and go aaaaaaaaand drop dead.  What the hell do you mean my GALLBLADDER?

I went home, told Chris what was going on and waited for Scott to get home, which happened about 15 minutes later.  He loaded me up in the car and took me to the hospital.

On the way I was doubled over.  This was worse than labor.  Labor felt......labor felt right, like it was part of the process.  This felt very, very wrong.  Something had gone wrong with my body and I was pissed about it.

First fucking week of school. Scott's motorcycle back in the shop with the bubbas who couldn't figure out how to use the goddamn telephone to tell us what was going on with it.  I'd called them the week before after waiting four days for them to say they'd even looked at to tell them if they didn't call me the next day to tell us if they were going to check it out or not I was going to take it somewhere else.  I was supposed to babysit for Chris and Sam the next day.  I'd planned to spend Friday cleaning and doing laundry since the place was filthy.  I had shit to do!  This was not, I say not, okay.

We got into the ER, I got checked in and told that they'd be happy to see me but there was a long wait.  Huh?  It was Wednesday!  Emergency rooms are busy on Friday and Saturday nights.  While we waited for a very, very long time I laid down on a padded bench and put my head on Scott's leg.  I was freezing cold and got a blanket from the triage nurse.  I covered up and dealt with the pain as best I could.  This involved closing my eyes tight and taking deep breaths.

Finally, finally I was taken back to be looked at.  I waited a while more, got checked out by an RN, then a doctor who prescribed me some Dilaudid.  I got an IV with a bag of fluids and the painkiller was put through my IV.

When it kicked in I said "Whooooaaaaaa".  I still had an ache, but I wasn't doubled over anymore, crying and wondering what was going on .  So, in my Dilaudid haze I was taken to get an ultrasound of my upper abdomen.  The ultrasound room is the same one they use for expectant moms so there are all these cheerful posters of smiling pregnant women holding their swollen bellies.  That was a little surreal, to be looking at those while the technician did her best to not hurt me while she checked out my insides.

I went back to my curtained cubicle where I zoned out some more before I was informed that it was indeed my gallbladder, admitted I was going to be!  I got to have surgery!  Wheeeeeee!

The really great male RN who had been taking care of me let me know that they wanted to get me upstairs because the riff-raff was going to be coming in.  I heard a man was going to be arriving who was suffering from chest pain after being tased.  The nurses were putting in dibs on who got to be assigned to him.

Upstairs I was transferred!  More painkiller I got!  To sleep I went! Then I waited for the surgeon to come talk to me in the morning.  A very nice man who explained to me that the best plan of action would be to take my rebellious organ out.  When I was in labor with Will and talking with the OB about whether to try for a VBAC or have a c-section, he said the question we didn't ask was "If you were my wife what would I recommend?".  I've used this as a guide since then.

I asked the surgeon if I was his life partner, what would he tell me to do?  Take it out.  Take it out we would!  The surgery suites were all booked, I'd get it done on Friday.  I spent another night in the hospital being fed by IV and getting a whole bunch of fluids along with a pre-surgery course of antibiotics and potassium.  Did you know potassium burns when it goes through an IV into your arm.  I woke up freaking out, crying because it hurt.  The nurse who was taking care of me understood, slowed down that drip and gave me some more Dilaudid.  This allowed me to go back to sleep.

Friday morning Scott came to hang out with me and I begged to take a shower.  I was gross.  I'd been sweating.  I smelled.  My hair was matted.  I hate being that dirty and smelly.  The tech helping me got my IV disconnected and covered up the little catheter going into my vein with part of a rubber glove.  This meant I couldn't bend my right arm, so Scott washed my hair for me.

Turned out my timing was good because someone had come to fetch me for my surgery while I was cleaning up.  After my gallbladder was taking out I wouldn't be able to shower for two days.  I got out, dried off and found that my bed had been changed and I had a clean gown to put on.

A few minutes later I was whisked away to be shuttled downstairs.  As soon as I was out of my room and heading downstairs I started to cry.  I covered my face up with the blanket and cried.  I cried in the room where I was waiting.  I cried while I was wheeled down to the OR.  I cried while they put my little cap on and moved me onto what was possibly the narrowest medical table on the face of the planet.  Then they pushed a painkiller that kicked in right NOW and I don't remember anything, just being back in my room with Scott and my mom's friend Jean who lives in the area.

My mom was on a plane to come help me with recovery.  I was drugged up and had adhesive bandages on four spots where the laparoscopic equipment had been inserted into my abdominal cavity.  My mom arrived very soon after that to take over watching me and Scott went to get the kids from school.

Now I'm going to sound like everyone's Uncle Harold talking about his operation.  The gallbladder stores bile, created in the liver, and pumps it into the stomach as part of the digestive process.  Bile is still fed into the small intestine by the liver, so removing the gallbladder doesn't impede digestion.  It's about the size of your thumb, with a very narrow neck leading to the stomach. It's only a few centimeters wide.   I had a stone in my gallbladder half in inch wide that was trying to force itself out.  Since I had such a blockage, I couldn't keep anything down.  No wonder I was hurting.  Jeez.

No, I didn't get to keep the stone but I do have photos.  I was discharged later on Friday night with a very tender upper abdomen and very, very tired.  Once I arrived at home around 9:30 I burst into tears and was put to bed.

Saturday morning, I felt better.  And, as my mom says, the Graminator took over. She has ruthlessly cleaned out Zoe's room, forced the kids to make choices about toys to keep and toys to toss, went to the grocery store, did dishes and swept up dog hair.  

I have been able to study for exam on Monday and I seem to be quite well prepared.  I've been eating lightly, drinking a lot of water and treating my discomfort with ibuprofen.  Mostly, I'm tender.  But I'm better today than I was yesterday and I imagine I'll be better tomorrow than I am today.

Recovery is supposed to be 2-3 weeks of taking it easy, no heavy lifting, not going to the gym or things like that.  I'm hoping I'll be close to back to normal in a week to ten days.  Until then, it's the recliner and naps for me.

How was your week?

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  When you are feeling poorly, being clean can make you feel better.

Two days down!

So, the Scorching Student Chef has two days under her belt.  Book learning is what we're doing in class, learning about toxins, cross contamination, time-temperature abuse and other practices that will make people sick.  I'm never eating out again!

Did you know there's a kind of toxin in fish that will make you cough up worms?  I know!  Anyway, I'm sitting in the front, the picture of the returning student who is desperate to do well.  I'm the second oldest in the class, the oldest student is another woman.  She and I have bonded over these two factors.  Out of a class of 16, there are 4 women.   Three of us sit in the front row.

This week we are plowing through 14 chapters on safe food handling in 4 days.  I'll have 3 days to review and then our exam is on Monday.  The textbook is written at about the same level as a sophomore or junior level biology textbook.  I'm grasping the information, there's just a lot of it.

And I have GOT to calm down about this.  I did well on today's quizzes, which covered the material we went over on Monday.  I'll go over the material for my quizzes tomorrow and anything I have difficulty with I'll know I need to put that info into my head.

Most of this stuff is common sense, like, oh, when should a person wash their hands?  After returning home, when they have been at work for three hours, after using the restroom.  See?

I am dealing with some insecurity and worry and thinking this was a stupid idea.  That will go away as I get positive feedback.

As of right now, I'm going to give my brain a break and have some home-made bbq chicken pizza.

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  When you are worrying, try to remember to relax your jaw every now and then.  It will help keep your face from sticking in an ugly, frowny way.