Day 74: Last blasts

Not for the first time these past few months, I am really struggling to muster the will to write this. Maybe it is because it is pushing 1am, or maybe it is just a simple equation concerning time and energy: my reserves of both are utterly depleted. I am going to try anyway. Quitting now would be such a waste.

The morning’s cooking was uninspiring. I tried to fatten things up with some white yeast bread. My order of work was bollocks - the dishes were all easy and very little effort was required. Almost the complete opposite of my last day in the kitchen on Tuesday, when I had shitloads to do and needed a really strong plan to get through it. Needless to say, my lack of respect for the day’s cooking, and my consequent failure to plan for it properly, led to a pretty chaotic morning. You can usually judge the efficiency of a session by the amount and randomness of your washing up. My pots and pans, along with many others that I had quietly appropriated during the day as mine became soiled, were scattered around the kitchen like the remnants of a cluster bomb.

Still, I made it through to lunch, had managed to knock up some hollandaise, poached a bit of skate, mashed some spuds and cooked romanesco. I had also taken one of the poached skate wings, dredged it in flour and fried it off in olive oil, which was twice as nice as the poached wing on its own. I also baked a white yeast plait and some rolls, which kicked ass too. I didn’t really bother with lunch, just sank a couple of coffees and a few chocolates.

Demo was another howler I’m afraid. Disjointed, disorganised, and most of us were disinterested. It was a bit like watching someone getting run over in slow motion. Most of us were relieved when it finally drew itself to a close, just before 6pm. I was desperate for a quiet couple of hours with a book followed by a few contemplative beers. But that wasn't to be, since I had put myself down to work in the kitchen again. I managed a quick blast in the shower to keep awake, before reapplying the chef’s whites, donning the flour encrusted apron, and striding across the courtyard in my moonboots for more of the same.

It was exactly what I needed actually. I have been a bit distant and distracted these last few days. High up the list of things pissing me off has been the content of the course. The last few demos have been really rather poor. Unprofessional, even, for a school that charges €10,000 for a twelve week course. Everyone is thinking it. I am not crabbing the place; it has been incredible. But you can’t help wondering if the course, the teachers and instructors aren’t, like the rest of us, beginning to run out of steam.