Signs of Early Spring?

I won't have to wear thermal underwear to class anymore, and there are daffodils blooming on the Highway 24/Broadway off ramp median.

The final day of Butchery was on a par with the rest of the last three weeks. First, Chef Allen took apart a sea urchin, removing the beak and cutting around the outside shell (or "test") to enlarge the opening. He dumped out the inner liquid, which will apparently stain your hands "forever," and carefully scooped out what's commonly referred to as the "roe," a series of delicate orange organs that are actually the animal's reproductive organs ("uni" at a sushi bar). Later, while we slaved away per normal, he made up a big batch of scrambled eggs with sea urchin, cooked in lots of butter, and garnished with chives, and creme fraiche. The uni was barely noticeable and the eggs were delicious. We also had chunks of duck sausage that Andrea mixed up a couple of days ago.

Not that we had a lot of time to eat. We were split into only two teams today, Seafood and Poultry, and it was another one of those "everything must go" situations. They were cutting a hell of a lot of fish at the Seafood tables, a variety pack of species, but we were All Chicken, All the Time. Fortunately, there were six of us cutting it — seven, when Silvia showed up two hours late (she'd been doing some last minute cramming for the final) — because we had to fabricate four cases (about 100) chickens. Lots of talk about music we like. Our team had a wide variety of music interests and experience (including four guys who've played in bands) but we were unanimous on two subjects: Britney Spears is talentless, and Michael Jackson is both The Bomb, and a freak.

All that production required almost an hour at the wonderous MultiVac machine, and we also had to thoroughly scrub the kitchen (including the walk-in and reach-in refrigerators, and the windows) so that it'll be in good shape for Monday's class of Butchery newbies. FINALLY, it was time to take the test, and we adjourned to The Grille, an infrequently used restaurant area in the basement, where the temperature was above 58 degrees. Chef Allen found classic rock on the radio so we took the test to the sounds of Derek and the Dominos and Pink Floyd: appropriately, "we don't need no education," because who really needs to know how cold it is inside the interstate turkey trucks? I don't know how well I did on the test. But I did correctly distinguish the plate from the flank. And of course Chef Allen assured us all yesterday that we'd achieved at least a D+.

So apparently during the freezer cleaning, a full commercial-sized carton of Dreyer's Dulce de Leche ice cream was discovered, so after the final, we returned to the chill of the kitchen to indulge and celebrate another little milestone. Next week, we're back to the South Campus (free parking, free coffee) for Intro to Garde Manger. Just in time, too, because I have to bring appetizers to a dinner party next Friday night.