Change of Plan

My first year back in school is over and I made it through my second semester with an "A" in my baking class (guess Chef Rudi kinda liked me after all!) and a "B" in Purchasing. And now, I'm changing my major, I am not going to become a pastry chef after all! Goodbye very ugly black slip resistant shoes and tall chefs hat. Hello pen and paper. I'm going to change my major - Creative Writing! Business? Marketing! Hmmm.....more on that later.

Guess what else? I'm seeing someone - a life coach. I know, I did say The Secret is stupid and now here I am paying someone to help guide me on my life path. But it works, or at least I think it is working. Already I've come to the conclusion that someone that cannot even decide what to make for dinner 100% of the work week and up until a few short weeks ago thought folding referred to laundry, probably shouldn't try and become the next Paula Deen. That said, I'm a little surprised by the fact that this baking class led me to such self-discovery. I even got to like my extremely stern teacher. He really is a great teacher, he's just hard, and since most people want to take the easy way out, which is definitely not an option with him, they knock him. I can't, he really is good at what he does, and he cares. Sure, I was almost reduced to tears one class and a few times I had myself a good old-fashioned passive aggressive under my breath swearing/muttering tirade while rolling out my dough, but in the end, I realized, Chef Rudi made me a better person and definitely a better baker, although I'm not sure that's saying much (about my baking, not the better person stuff.) And just so you know, I already decided this before I had my practical baking test, before he judged my tray of baked goods, eyes twinkling, with a "not much to complain about here" as he graded my work. I may as well have won the Nobel Peace Prize I was so excited to hear that come out of his mouth. I've come a long way since being yelled at for stretching the gluten out of my dough or making gloppy tart glaze.

So, back to the better person stuff. You see, when the semester started, I was of the impression that at my age, I could not do certain things. Among them, stay anywhere with a "Holiday" or an "Inn" or a "6" or an "8" in the name, live without a Starbucks first thing in the morning, stand on my feet for a full 5 hours without a break and not go to the ladies room whenever the mood strikes, which with me is about 20 times a day, and as we all know I was incensed at the thought of not having a locker to call my own. But, I found out I am a lot better at buckling down than I thought I would be. Of course I got my locker by saying I had a medical condition, but other than that slight freak out I did what I was supposed to, and I'm proud of myself for that. Sure, when you are 18 or 19 no breaks for 5 hours is not a big deal, it wouldn't have been to me back in the Duran Duran day, but now, that seemed like a jail sentence. And I lived through it, and now I may be a tad less demanding in my every day life. I can roll with it a bit more. I'm not as rigid, demanding.

One thing I have noticed is that a lot of times as we get older, supposedly wiser, more successful and settled, we also get more set in our ways and things that we accepted in our earlier years are beyond comprehension to us now. And it's not just me. Many a morning my sister, 3 years younger than I, will call me and the beginning of the call starts with "I'm old - you're not going to believe what I did" to which I either reply that I, too, have done that very thing or I top it with an "I'm old" story of my own from the previous day.

Remember when you were barely out of your teens? Did we think anything at all of sleeping on the sofa in our best friends college dorm, the one that had springs that poked us in the back all night while the fluorescent lighting buzzed on and off? We slept. We didn't worry about how soundly, or how long, or even how comfortably. If we ordered a cheeseburger and it came with mayo and we hate mayo even more than we hated the fact that even though we asked for it without mayo and the waiter ignored us because he knew the tip wasn't going to be anywhere near the acceptable mark, did we complain to the manager? No, we scraped it off and ate the burger and left our paltry tip, not because the service was bad, but because we didn't know you tip 15% to 20% for good service and about 10 for bad. We thought nothing of running out of toilet paper (nowadays I have to have at least 10 extra rolls in wait), hand soap (today I require at least 5 extra bottles on hand) or toothpaste (minimum stock 2 extra tubes) not to mention water. We didn't run around with bottled water, we drank, gasp, from the tap, and sometimes when we went to that pretentious little French restaurant on Ventura Boulevard we drank Evian, but we certainly didn't have to have a mini Aquafina bottling plant in our extra fridge out in the garage.

Now that I have conquered said hardships and a whole year in school with very good grades I might add, I am ready to do something I have always wanted to, but have been too afraid to try. I, Suellen Meyers, am going to write for a living. I want to write, become a writer, get paid to write, make a living writing. I changed my major and am going to re-take a basic English class from my college days long ago as a refresher, plus, a Critical Thinking class from back in the day as well. From there, I will most likely do creative writing and possibly a fiction class. Which brings me to my blog. I get that my few followers may have dropped off the wayside by now, and really, is license to bake the apt title now? But, I have a new goal for myself. I am going to write every day. I am going to talk about my journey, as well as adults trying to figure out what to do in their second or third or heck, even fourth careers, and adults going back to school. In this economy, lots of us are not working, and reinventing, and I'm right there with ya. But, my year in Pastry served me well, it was a year in which I gained a lot of insight, a stronger backbone, and an 18 year old BFF! When all is said and done, I thank Chef Rudi for helping me relax a bit and realize hard work, even for old dogs, can teach us a few new tricks, or maybe, bring us back to some old ones.

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Did you know baking, well, professional baking, revolves around formulas and ratios and a few basic mixing procedures? I didn't. How innocent I was, just thinking I was baking up a batch of simple Toll House cookies. Little did I know how the complicated actions and reactions of ingredients and their ratios to each other were hard at work behind the scenes.

And after attending 2 Baking classes I realize had I known 40 years ago what I know today, I sure would have paid much more attention in Math class. As I've mentioned before, math is not my forte, unless you want to know how much those $95.00 jeans will cost you at a 15% discount. I can do that in my head in under 10 seconds because of my retail days. Need to figure the tip, ask me. I'm a walking tip calculator. But, ask me anything fractional or algebraic or remotely formulaic and I glaze over and start drooling like the village idiot. I don't get math. So, this may pose another slight challenge when trying to adjust a formula for say 24 croissants as opposed to 200. Apparently professional bakers can figure this stuff out at the blink of an eye and not even pull a small pocket calculator out of their tall baking caps.

My Baking teacher terrified me, first by reputation and then in person, the first time I encountered him, which was last week. He is the definition of stern. He does not repeat, he does not take breaks (or so he said, he kindly granted us two of them today) and he does not tolerate any bend, sway or breakage of his kitchen rules. He assigned us 6 chapters to read the first week. He is all about us being responsible for our own learning. Ask questions, there are no dumb ones. Except when we do ask and he thinks it is. Like last week, I could see his wanting his students to participate in class. Truthfully, I don't usually say all that much, as I have enough to do to keep up with the note taking and controlling my mind wandering. But, I decided I would ask a question no matter what, as he wants questions, and I want to be a star student. So I did, and all I could come up with during his explanation about the required absolutely adorable designer chef uniforms (you don't believe that do you?) was to ask if we needed the neckerchief part of our uniform. He practically spat a "YES - IT'S ON THE LIST ISN'T IT VILLAGE IDIOT?" at me. I didn't ask why we need it, but I did have a mind wandering wonder about it. What purpose does a neckerchief have in the bakeshop? I get the chef hat, the pants, non-slip shoes, chef jacket, apron. But a neckerchief? Who even says neckerchief these days. On this past season of Top Chef Mattin wore one, but he is a French guy, so that explains that. It's not like it is going to help you if you sweat, it's around your neck. If I sweat while in the kitchen, it is usually my brow, not my neck, doing the sweating. I'm putting this on record, I'm against the neckerchief. It's purpose-less.

Now aside from the designer duds we have to wear in the kitchen starting next week, we are not allowed to have anything on our nails (goodbye perfectly done Ballerina Slippers manicure) and we are allowed no food or drink in the kitchen. This poses yet another challenge for me, as I eat about every 2 or 3 hours and drink more than a pack of camels do all day by 7 a.m. causing me to go to the bathroom about 3 times an hour. If I detour from my norm, I don't feel all that well. It's what my body is used to. Now, I figure I can get around this by having food and water in my culinary locker. Oh, wait, locker assignments started Tuesday, and when I went to claim mine Wednesday morning, there were none left. I'm number 24 on the waiting list. Plan B - I stuffed a half a peanut butter sandwich in my hoodie pocket and spent the first 3 hours of class uncomfortably shifting in my seat trying to make sure Chef did not see it - it would have caused a Gordon Ramsey if he had. One guy brought in a bottle of water to the bake shop, after being told absolutely no food or drink as of this week, and let's just say the backlash wasn't pretty.

I actually lost sleep last night trying to figure out the whole non-locker logistic. I'm a handbag carrying kind of gal, I am not a carry stuff in my pockets kind of girl, and it really threw me. But, I decided there were much worse inconveniences in the world and I had to suck it up. I did ask Chef if it would be possible to bring in a cooler with snacks, due to the fact I have to eat for medical reasons, and leave it in the Culinary Offices. But not wanting to break rules (there's no sandwich in MY pocket!) before clearing the cooler with him all I could think to do was to have the contraband on me in case of emergency and hide it from him. He glared at me, paused to consider a response, and said "we'll make arrangements." During break one I ran out to my car and scarfed down the now flattened sandwich. To my surprise, Chef poked his head out the door to tell me to come in immediately to see Chef Steve for a locker.

There is a God.

My (second) First Day of School

My second semester in school starts tomorrow and I am actually really excited. What a difference from a few short months ago when I was a back to school newbie, I was so nervous back then, now I am a seasoned pro, ready to take on academia. Well, that was until I saw my 772 page Professional Baking book.

Seriously, I can't even carry it. I think they should have textbooks for different age brackets. The just out of high schoolers, no matter if they fell into the jock category or not, are young and they get the heavy books, they can handle it. The at risk for osteoporosis group consisting of anyone who has been driving for at least 25 years, gets an abridged book, or maybe a paperback smaller version. Perhaps I will run for class President and that will be my platform. For now, I'm going to have to hire someone to carry that damn baking book to and from class for me. I know they have tutors for hire, what about toters?

While standing in line today to buy my books I became bored, and also I needed a distraction from the large smelly guy standing in front of me that kept brushing up against my hand with one part of his torso or another. Just about the time I was about to take out my Whole Foods Lavender spray sanitizer, and bathe myself in public with it, hopefully washing away any germs said smelly guy deposited my way with his insidious inability to stay in his own space and not invade mine, I was called to the next open register. Imagine my giddiness, I had only waited 45 minutes!

I find it funny that I seem to have the wrong idea about what my classes will entail, until I get my books and open them up. Much to my surprise, Hospitality Purchasing is another (like Sanitation last semester) earned certificate course. It's taught by my Sanitation Instructor. I think he is the certification king. Anyway, I don't know what I was thinking, but, I was under the impression it would focus on purchasing equipment and supplies, to set up a kitchen or restaurant. Sure, the book does cover that, in a short LAST chapter. The class will focus on purchasing food items, and the safety regulations in doing so. Now that I read about it, it makes sense. Come to think of it, had I read the class description prior to signing up for it perhaps I would have saved myself the surprise, but, the class is on my required list and whatever it is about I'm taking it, so I figure why bother actually reading unnecessary information, such as class descriptions, when I have to take it whether I want to or not. I have to save as much of my reading and comprehension powers for the real stuff, like actual school and tests. There is only so much of it to go around these days.

I am a little bit nervous about my baking class, I have read and heard about the Instructor, a master baker (my sis says every time I say that it sounds like I'm saying he's a masturbator - which he may be, but not in class hopefully) from Germany that is supposed to be, quite simply, not so nice and definitely not easy. What am I getting myself into?

Guess we'll see....I'll keep you posted....

Pass the Splenda

Sugar is my enemy. So, this may pose a challenge in becoming a pastry chef. But really, just a taste should be sufficient, shouldn't it? I hope my teacher sees it that way.

You see, about 5 weeks ago I read a book in which I saw my metabolism challenged self. It basically told me that I have an alternate metabolism, and the eat less calories and expend more energy thing that works for most will not work for me. It is what I eat that matters, not just calories in. My body makes too much insulin when I eat, thus creating this vicious circle where I crave sugar and bread and pasta and rice and crackers and am never satisfied no matter how little time has passed since I last ate. This theory made me feel so much better about myself. My failed attempts at 1200 calories on Jenny Craig where I ate nothing but their pizza and oatmeal, my days on the old standby Weight Watchers where I bought every single WW snack bar, and consumed them, still staying under my allotted point value by upping my exercise, only to lose a pound and gain it back the next day. You see, I have long known that my metabolism seemed to be on Valium and that I was not a normal girl, and now I had proof, in writing, in a best selling book by a Registered Dietitian who has helped many other non-normal hyper insulin producers achieve healthy eating habits and weight loss.

So three weeks ago I began phase 1, an eight week process that allows me no more than 5, yes I said FIVE net carbs in a 5 hour period. They call this the 5 x 5 rule, isn't that cute? Guess they think it will distract us enough that we don't notice our light headed-ness. Suffice it to say the first several days I could hear my husband muttering under his breath something about going deep sea fishing, far, far away. You get my drift, I was detoxing, I was hardly eating, I was going to Whole Foods and clinging to the butcher case as they grilled me up some chicken, only to return 5 minutes later to request some more, stat, as I had made it out to the car, but inexplicably, the chicken had not lasted quite so long, in fact only the empty box had made it to the register so I could pay for what I had already consumed. Hey, I'm desperately hungry, not dishonest.

This program is not meant to be a low carb long term eating plan, but, the author says in order to let my body rest from all the over production (who knew I was working so hard at something and excelling so?) the over producer has to seriously cut carbs for the eight weeks. Phase 2 I get to eat 11 - 20 grams of carbs and can go no longer than 5 hours without eating them, in what will now seem like a carb fest. I literally teared up when I read that. Anyway, I have no idea what phase 3 is, I figure that is so far off I will read about that later. Hopefully it doesn't require eating bugs or sushi.

Since I started this self imposed torture, I have thus equalized, lost 8 pounds, and figured out that I feel fantastic. There is no way I am going back to my old starchy, sugary ways. I never want to go through the detox again, and I kinda like my husband, and I'm not sure he could take it.

Now, I am faced with school starting next week, and my first baking class. I can have a bite of sugar without wigging out, or a small, skinny piece of bread, but no way can I have a serving. I hear my baking teacher is not a nice man, and of course I want my A, but I will not eat to get it. This could prove to be interesting. I see myself taking small tastes, maybe a bite of something. Sounds perfectly reasonable to me. We'll see.

Excuse me now, I need to go polish off that celery stalk I have chilling in the wine cooler. I'll let you know how it all goes.