Stirring the Pot … Is almost over

Yes, it’s almost time. Instead of a cap and gown I’ll be dressed head to toe in chef’s whites and steel toed clogs. Sexy huh? Almost as good as a flowing gown and tassel hat, but I guess I’ve been there, done that …

This last week has by far been the hardest experience of my last six months, both physically and emotionally. Tempers are on edge and everyone’s emotions are not only on the table, in the ovens, AND in their final pieces but flying around in the air. We all look exhausted.

Suffice to say, my blog posts have gotten a lot of heat. And granted, I’m confronted about this when many things (other than school) are weighing down on my mind. But, hey that’s Murphy’s Law, right? I wish I could say that I was sorry for what I’ve said, but I’m not, take it or leave it. I’m sorry if people took things I’ve said wrong, as I never meant to hurt anyone, but this is what the blog is for! Getting down and dirty and yes, a lot of it is dirty, and I’m not just talking about the chocolate units.

But as hump day closes, I’m starting to feel a little less stressed about the week and a little more nostalgic. This has been an incredible experience that has taught me more than words can express in a blog … and more than my pieces can show. Everything I made, I only made ONCE. Technique wise, we repeated ideas, but actual showpieces, pies, cakes, etc. were only done once. So I’m just getting started in my artistic and culinary capabilities!

Tomorrow we must be done by 11:30 am and then will be judged by four unknown food people. Writers, bakers, wedding cake decorators, chefs, are selected to judge us anonymously. The verdicts still out but I have a feeling (unless maybe Gael Greene or Ruth Reichl) is there I won’t care very much how the judging goes, more that it’s over.

And there is no question where I will be tomorrow afternoon at 2:30 pm. I’m thinking a massage, a much needed manicure and pedicure, and a large bottle of Veuve Clicquot … that I will most likely pop, brown-bag, and suck out of a straw as I walk home along the beautiful streets of Soho to my apartment. After all isn’t this why I’m here to begin with?