On my very first day, at my very first job, I thought I was going to get fired.
Up until that point, I’d never stepped foot in a restaurant kitchen, and as I knocked on the metal service-entry door, anticipating my first day, I was feeling like I was about to audition for a role opposite Brad Pitt — both excited and petrified. Just a few days earlier, I talked my way into coming in to “stage”, a Frenchie term that basically means “to try out”, and I could tell on the phone the chef was doubtful. He must have imagined me as an oblivious, clueless 9-5 professional, who thought she was going to waltz in and make cute little cake roses all day, sporting a “Kiss the Cook” apron, while listening to hits on the radio.
He thought wrong, my friends, he thought wrong, because I had done my homework, and I knew what to do to impress. I read two top-notch books about what it’s like to work in the biz, cracked my knuckles, and showed up raring to go.
The Making of a Pastry Chef: Recipes and Inspiration from America’s Best Pastry Chefs
The Making of a Chef: Mastering Heat at the Culinary Institute of America
When I was told to coat the pate-de-fruit cubes in sugar, I coated those suckers like I had a gun to my head. When I was asked to pop the chocolate bon bons into white fluted cups, I popped as though I’d been programmed to, all while keeping my head down, and refraining from chit chat.
It was working. I could sense the chef’s approval. A few hours later, he waved me over into the office, and announced that if I was interested, I could come in and apprentice. My instinct was to jump up and down and holler like a 5 year old, but I resisted. I was in! Have you ever gotten news that made you so elated, so lost in bliss, that you couldn’t concentrate on anything else?
Yeah.
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