(no subject)
as a follow-up to this entry about decaffeination methods, i think this is pretty damn cool.
went to eighteen this weekend, although i spelled that wrong. there's some sort of clever insertion of numbers in the name, to go along with the very clever and chi-chi interior. and loud dj and slow service. i got a trio of creme brulee (vanilla, orange and pistachio), forgetting that my ability to make creme brulee has really taken the magic out of this dish. S and E shared a chocolate mousse cake with a chocolate-cinnamon cold soup served on the side - and the soup was lovely, while the mousse cake was lacklustre. however, i had a mango and ginger daiquiri that was delicious.
(have i ruined myself for restaurant desserts entirely?)
today we had a 5-hour workshop on plated desserts (i.e., restaurnat desserts). caramel creme brulee, macaroons with pastis cream, and craquelins aux fruits although i forgot the name of the dish and didn't present as many fruits as i should have. it was fun - we all got the same recipes and all presented entirely different combinations of the components, and every single plate looked different.
~~~~
in other news, i quite my bakery job this saturday. i cited the facts that i have too many things on the go, didn't have enough time to devote to school, and that the stress was making me sick. which is all true. my boss was, understandably, less than pleased - particularly because one of his staff had taken the long weekend off, and that there were lots of huge orders to fill because of said long weekend. all things that i couldn't have forseen. in the end, he was okay with it, although i got a mini-lecture/discussion about the value of time management and recognizing one's limits.
you know how when you've made a decision, and you've made the right decision, there are little hints that let confirm your decision? that kept happening on saturday.
[1] i was walking to work at 5:00am, which is probably not the safest thing to be doing. i'm also guilty of taking side streets because it's the most direct route, and because the bus schedule doesn't get me to work on time.
i haven't had any problems so far, but this particular morning a man in a car pulled over and said in a joey-from-friends voice, "how are you doing?". i was so stunned and unexpectant that i stupidly said "fine, how are you?" before i came to my senses and continued walking quickly on my way.
seriously, WTF? i'm walking with a mission, dressed like a scrub, wearing a backpack. none of this implies that i want to be hit on, and i felt angry and violated by the incident. of course it's too late to do anything about it, and i probably did the best that i could - but more reason not to walk around at strange hours by myself in slightly sketchy neighbourhoods.
[2] the two women who were working that day do not speak english very well. which would be fine, if they could actually communicate with me and with each other - which, as you might have guessed, they don't. so one woman would tell me to do one thing, and then the other would come along mid-way and ask me why i was doing it. or i would be given a task but not all the information, and when i finished one of them would tell me that i had done it wrong. similarly, they would give me a task to do but leave out a key detail that made all the work for naught.
listen, kids. i realize that i'm the student and that i'm free labour, and that it's easily exploited. but for christ's sake, just give me clear directions with relevant details, and i will do what you tell me to do. give me a model of a tart, point out which way is supposed to be front, and i will replicate it for you. tell me that you want a half-slab cake box, not a half-slab. because a half-slab is a cake, and not the box to put the cake in. when i'm packing pastries for the first time, tell me when i'm partway through the first box that i should mix up the fruit tarts with the eclairs and other tarts, not when i've finished packing three full boxes of just fruit tarts. when i've filled 20 million cake pans with the amount of batter that fits into the measure that you gave me, please don't tell me that they're too full. you should have told me somewhere about the 2nd or 3rd pan. now i need to fix it, possibly ruining the entire batch of cake.
grrr.
so yeah. i'm pretty happy with my decision.
went to eighteen this weekend, although i spelled that wrong. there's some sort of clever insertion of numbers in the name, to go along with the very clever and chi-chi interior. and loud dj and slow service. i got a trio of creme brulee (vanilla, orange and pistachio), forgetting that my ability to make creme brulee has really taken the magic out of this dish. S and E shared a chocolate mousse cake with a chocolate-cinnamon cold soup served on the side - and the soup was lovely, while the mousse cake was lacklustre. however, i had a mango and ginger daiquiri that was delicious.
(have i ruined myself for restaurant desserts entirely?)
today we had a 5-hour workshop on plated desserts (i.e., restaurnat desserts). caramel creme brulee, macaroons with pastis cream, and craquelins aux fruits although i forgot the name of the dish and didn't present as many fruits as i should have. it was fun - we all got the same recipes and all presented entirely different combinations of the components, and every single plate looked different.
~~~~
in other news, i quite my bakery job this saturday. i cited the facts that i have too many things on the go, didn't have enough time to devote to school, and that the stress was making me sick. which is all true. my boss was, understandably, less than pleased - particularly because one of his staff had taken the long weekend off, and that there were lots of huge orders to fill because of said long weekend. all things that i couldn't have forseen. in the end, he was okay with it, although i got a mini-lecture/discussion about the value of time management and recognizing one's limits.
you know how when you've made a decision, and you've made the right decision, there are little hints that let confirm your decision? that kept happening on saturday.
[1] i was walking to work at 5:00am, which is probably not the safest thing to be doing. i'm also guilty of taking side streets because it's the most direct route, and because the bus schedule doesn't get me to work on time.
i haven't had any problems so far, but this particular morning a man in a car pulled over and said in a joey-from-friends voice, "how are you doing?". i was so stunned and unexpectant that i stupidly said "fine, how are you?" before i came to my senses and continued walking quickly on my way.
seriously, WTF? i'm walking with a mission, dressed like a scrub, wearing a backpack. none of this implies that i want to be hit on, and i felt angry and violated by the incident. of course it's too late to do anything about it, and i probably did the best that i could - but more reason not to walk around at strange hours by myself in slightly sketchy neighbourhoods.
[2] the two women who were working that day do not speak english very well. which would be fine, if they could actually communicate with me and with each other - which, as you might have guessed, they don't. so one woman would tell me to do one thing, and then the other would come along mid-way and ask me why i was doing it. or i would be given a task but not all the information, and when i finished one of them would tell me that i had done it wrong. similarly, they would give me a task to do but leave out a key detail that made all the work for naught.
listen, kids. i realize that i'm the student and that i'm free labour, and that it's easily exploited. but for christ's sake, just give me clear directions with relevant details, and i will do what you tell me to do. give me a model of a tart, point out which way is supposed to be front, and i will replicate it for you. tell me that you want a half-slab cake box, not a half-slab. because a half-slab is a cake, and not the box to put the cake in. when i'm packing pastries for the first time, tell me when i'm partway through the first box that i should mix up the fruit tarts with the eclairs and other tarts, not when i've finished packing three full boxes of just fruit tarts. when i've filled 20 million cake pans with the amount of batter that fits into the measure that you gave me, please don't tell me that they're too full. you should have told me somewhere about the 2nd or 3rd pan. now i need to fix it, possibly ruining the entire batch of cake.
grrr.
so yeah. i'm pretty happy with my decision.