I have have an art history test in two hours, and I'm only semi-prepared...so now is obviously the best time to update the much-neglected food blog. I'm on the chapter on batters and doughs in the Bible. This marks a bit of a milestone for me: the past seven months I've been intermittently learning a great deal about the raw ingredients of the kitchen: the various fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, eggs and dairy. Now it's on to the creations we make with those various components.


Dairy in particular takes me back. It was chapter one, and those were heady days. In hot July, I was in the car on the way to an engagement party, having just cracked my brand new copy of the Bible when I exclaimed, "Honey, listen to this man rhapsodize about milk!" That was when honey realized that supporting my ambitions by buying me a highly useful book was a horrible idea. Ever since, it's been one culinary revelation for honey after the other. And honey doesn't cook, though an interest has been expressed. "Just make it something simple, that I can help with." I'm told. We're getting there.


My nostalgia aside, I've been at a turning-the-corner place the past few weeks. I'm applying to culinary schools in a few months, applying for scholarships ASAP, and finishing my bachelor's degree in December. This will be a big year; the parallel that I've reached in the Bible feels completely appropriate. In school, I'm taking my last core classes, and getting deeper and deeper into journalism.


It helps that despite a low interest (comparatively speaking) in pastry, I'm finding the doughs and batter chapter very stimulating. It's far more approachable than I expected it to be, and in some ways, I'm having an easier time than I did with fruits and vegetables. I'm pleasantly surprised.


But haven't I been cooking? Not really, I'm sad to say. I've been working a lot, and spending a lot of time in various classes, which are making their customary massive demands on my time. I've been cleaning and on the one night a week when I'm not comitted to something else attempting to be sociable. I still volunteer at the cafe, but cooking to order, while fun, and valuable practice, is not nearly the same as creating a dish and playing with flavors, textures, aromas and appearance. I miss it, but hopefully soon the February doldrums will ease, I'll be able to work less to pay my bills, and more time can be given over to delicious fiddling.


Finally, one more of my activities has undergone a sea change. I worked at the cafe a couple of weeks ago, and ran the kitchen for the last two hours, as the chef wasn't feeling well. I've run the kitchen before, almost always for an entire day. I've done it short of volunteers, without the meat needed to make a special, and when we've been reasonably busy. I've done it tired and hungover. This last time, something clicked. I was able to give clear instructions to the line, to step in quickly where needed, and to keep everything running smoothly. It was incredibly satisfying. Both while we were taking customers, and while I was directing cleanup, I was able to keep in mind everything that needed to be done. Previously, especially during cleanup, this was nigh impossible. I'd work on something, forget what was next, or what was still dirty, get overwhelmed and frustrated by my forgetfulness, and have to move on to new tasks in a state of mind equivalent to the proverbial "square one". It nearly always assured that I would again, forget what came next, get frustrated, rinse and repeat. Not that day. I forgot one thing, got everyone out of there at a reasonable hour (though not as quickly as the chef), and left the cafe in pretty good shape.


I think that my growing experience as a server contributed to that success, and while I expected to benefit from front of the house experience on an abstract, you've-got-to-know-all-of-the-business level, I'm very pleasantly surprised that the benefits have been so concrete, and assert again what many have before: everyone should be a server for awhile. Not so that they can experience the unique joy of working like never before for your money, only to get a 5-10% tip. That's dehumanizing, and having your work so poorly compensated is something no one should ever know. But it bends your mind in ways that can only be helpful, no matter what your career. When you have held in your head every little detail about four or five (or nine) tables for six hours, you don't get forgetful, and you economize every step that you take. You also learn to focus on what people want and need, relying mostly on nonverbal clues. Tell me that's irrelevant to your job description, and I'll probably tell you to enjoy middle management.


Now, to return to the High Renaissance, Mannerism, and a type of art that I can't produce, but am learning to appreciate.