Today: "Used to think a cloud was a nightmare"

The day started splendidly. For the first time in weeks, the dawn morning was clear and unfoggy. I deposited my first paycheck on the way to work: compensation for a part-time job as a "cookbook project manager" for a woman who's compiling her family recipes. For me, it's a huge symbolic step towards my goal: making a living and doing what I love. Then I drove to work listening to the recently released Neil Young album, heavily evocative of "back in the day," and I found my throat lumping up during much of the drive.

With just the two of us in the classroom, Chef Alain asked me ("you have the most education of anyone in the class") what could be done to improve the course. I told him that it would be great if the syllabus matched his lectures, and if we had recipes that reflected his preferred ingredients and methods. He responded by going to his car and bringing back a 2" thick binder filled with lecture notes: "This is what I want to teach! This class is way too short!"

When Andrea came into class, she tossed me a copy of the new SF Weekly. "Check it out," she said. The cover article is entitled "Burnt Chefs," and it's a brutal critique of our very school. The article focuses on unethical recruitment practices and a deteriorating reputation in the local community, results of a "gimme the money" approach. While I have no personal experience with the recruitment end, my major complaints about the program, as you know, center around the lack of rigor and the ability of mediocre students to continue to perform poorly, yet remain enrolled. We buzzed about the article all morning. I'm sure they were doing the same thing in the teachers' lounge. The last line of the article: "Former student Matthew Jarvis...has another idea: "I've sometimes thought about going to the school on my days off with a picket sign: 'Don't go to school here, come ask me why.'""

Chef lectured about French cows and French cheese. Then he staged a rampage because he'd received frozen rabbits and pheasants for today's cooking. Mario and I set about making our tarte tatin, because we had all the ingredients we needed.



In the absence of their scheduled protein, Andrea and Andy made a great chicken dish, winging it to replicate a meal that Andrea had at Bouchon. They sautéed the chicken pieces, then finished it off in the oven in some chicken stock. Then they made a great sauce with mushrooms and caramelized vegetables. At tasting time, Chef asked them to describe their dish, then said it was inappropriate for them to serve a crispy-skinned chicken with a sauce. "It's either a braise, or it's fried chicken." Andrea had to leave the room.



And Silvia finished the poached pears that she and Dava began yesterday. "These are not cooked!" Chef said. Silvia just shook her head. Dava was the tester, yesterday, and she was absent today. "That's no excuse!" Chef said. "There is never an excuse!"