Stock-Making, Stock-Taking

A pause in the action, and inevitably some introspection.

* I have to say — I have said, to more than one person, just recently — how very much I enjoy virtually everything about this experience. There is never the part where I say, "Oh, this is so boring," or "I hate this part of the job." Sometimes it's energizing, sometimes it's routine to the point of Zen. Sometimes it's like making the bed: I can't really go on to the next thing until that's complete. But the subject matter is infinitely engrossing.

* I've had to remind myself a little bit that vacation and other such little niceties are really out of the question — in part, because of my schedule but mostly, because this is a most extravagent adventure that I'm on, already. But you know the MasterCard acquisition mentality that comes into play: watch a show, turn the page of a magazine, and there's another place we need to go, another darling shoe. (Ha!! and where is it that I go these days, where I need more darling shoes?) Anyway, when I think "ah, vacation," I just remember that I'm in the middle of the vacation of my dreams.

* I'm finding that I'm paying close attention to hands, the way that they work, the way I can learn from them. (Watching David put up a net in the front yard, damn those deer: he holds his hand just so, while pulling the net just so, very efficient, very effective.) I've never really had a job where the physical doing of the task was so much the focus. Aside from where you put your fingers when typing on a keyboard, of course, but how many of the techie guys that I worked for used two fingers? Or some other weird self-taught combination? Nothing you needed to emulate, at any rate. But Chef Afreen as she washed rice, Chef Judy as she patted the dough to fill the pan, Chef Allen with his knife in the butcher's grip: there are lessons to learn there.

* The stock-making will come tomorrow: there's a bag of poultry bones in the freezer, ready to be transformed. I'm also going to try a French Laundry recipe for Easter Brunch: "Strawberry and Champagne Terrine," and I'll be able to use the gelatin sheets I bought years ago in London. I don't think they go stale.