I Learned It All From My Mother

I left school today with an odd ambivalent feeling. Lots of satisfaction in finishing a great class, knowing I did well. A visit from Dean Rocco about changes in school policy, mostly having to do with academic probation. Not good news if you're borderline, but I have no worries in that regard. Great conversation with our class guest, Lucie Buchbinder, who was Chef Judy's former employer (and mentor, clearly). Lots of complaining from the anti-Duffy faction while we were cleaning the kitchen, when Chef Judy was giving Lucie a tour of the facility. Andy finally said, "Maybe you would have gotten along better with Chef Duffy if you came to class and did the work." Gossip from Andrea, who saw two students sharing answers during the final, and watched as another student surreptitiously filled in numbers on the assignment worksheet that Chef Judy collects each week, giving himself credit for work he never submitted. And some hallway chatter after class between Derrick, Andrea, Andy and me: all of us a little frustrated at the bitching. It's supposed to be hard. That's what we signed up for.

We stood at the dish sink, doing dishes, Andy, Travis, and I, and talked about what we want to do when we're finished. Andy already has an internship opportunity, "at the best restaurant in Minneapolis," and Travis wants to move back to Waikiki, eventually. But it's expensive there, he says, so he wants to have some experience here first. I suggested that he look at internship opportunities in Las Vegas: if you have no reason to stay in the Bay Area, you could potentially work at some fabulous places (with big name chefs).

Lucie Buchbinder is a lovely lady, advanced in years, dressed in a bright orange swishy skirt with black boots and chunky exotic jewelry. Chef Judy introduced several of us to her and she engaged each of us in brief but informative conversation. Her background is in community organizing, and she founded The Bread Project because her low-income housing clients had few opportunities for job training. She asked me about my background and goals, and when I told her I want to be a food writer, she encouraged me to join the San Francisco Professional Food Society, where she is Secretary. "Probably a third of our members are writers!" she said. Just what I need: coming face-to-face with my competition. They have a discounted student membership rate.

My baked pork and mushroom buns were not stellar. The fillings were delicious, but many of the buns split open during the final proofing. I think I took too long to get the dough rolled and filled, and they ended up being over-proofed. Perhaps. Chef Judy said, "Perhaps there's an old Chinese secret." Our buffet was pretty overwhelming. It was great to have a half-dozen pizzas (who knew that Jim could toss pizza crust?) along with a table overflowing with sweet desserts.

Chef Judy read my dessert menu aloud to the class. "I want to be there," she said. I think I wow'd her with my presentation: I inserted my menu, cut with my fancy pinking shears, inside a menu card that I purchased last year in Cortona. It was one of those impulse purchases: when will I ever need to create a fancy printed menu?

Unlike any of our other teachers, Chef Judy talked to each of us individually today, and gave us our grades. She said, "You're one of the best students I ever had." And she gave me an "A," with honors. I have to thank my mother, first.