School Days
Learning to cook from a book
It seems that anyone who has ever attended college or university in their late teens declares it as the time of their lives, lectures by day and parties by night, young carefree and skint. I was certainly skint, definately young and already well versed in lectures courtesy of my Head Chef (daily) and parents (nightly). I enrolled in college to meet seventeen year old girls, I didn’t.
The youngest female in my group was thirty two and quite a beauty. Sarah was a school cook and the lecturer showed a remarkable interest in her progression. I was the only student to be working in a kitchen of repute and she knew it. We were told to match up into pairs to work with for the rest of the term, she came towards me like Farrah Fawcett Majors rescuing a drowning child, I froze, waiting for the kiss of life but all I got was her half of a flat fish to fillet because ‘I was so much better at it’.
I was in competition with the lecturer for her affection, I told her I was thirty five and grew an impression of a beard to prove it, looking like a cross between D’artagnan and Rat Boy I would gallantly cook all of her dishes for her and the lecturer would tell her how nice it was whilst mine needed more salt.
I didn’t like catering college, my first lecturer hated me and the feeling was mutual. ‘G.W.’ had a height complex, at seventeen I towered above him, he wore a hat to give him another half a metre but I would still look down at him and smirk. He told me that I would never make a chef, I told him I would and I meant it. Twenty two years, seven AA rosettes, five RAC dining awards, twelve national salon culinnaire medals, three countries and dozens of trainees under me later I think I proved it. He drove me on.
College taught me how to cook from a book, Sarah would dilligently weigh out all of the ingredients and put them into seperate pots. She would read out the step by step method and I would ignore her and cook in the order I felt was right. Sometimes I was right, sometimes I was wrong but I knew from an early age that true cooking doesn’t come from following a text book, it comes from getting inside of the dish and cooking from the heart.
I went to college on day release from work and invaribly I was knackered, practical lesson in the morning and theory in the afternoon. The college suffered from poor funding, we would have to share a flat fish to fillet between four of us and with Grimsby fish docks a mile away that was hard to figure out. Filleting fish wasn’t one of the students strong points, by the time the wretched sole had come around to my bench it resembled a scene from Jaws. I learnt to make Sole Bonne Femme with a three ounce fish fillet, a button mushroom and a sprig of parsley, good training for a three month stint working for a local restaurant owner.
In the eighties every catering lecturer was ‘ex Forces’, they would boast about cooking for the Admiral or doing consomme for three hundred in a tent, I never bought it. None of them had worked in a top end restaurant or hotel, they would recite line after line from Ceserani and Kinton, we were taught by list of ingredient and bullet point method. It was chemistry lessons all over again and I hated it.
Before my final exam I knew that I was heading for pastures new, I wanted to know what getting shouted at in another language was like and I would soon find out.
College for me was a nesscecary evil, it gave you a qualification on one hand and squeezed freedom of thought and interest out of the other. Of all the kitchens I have ever stood in that was the worst. I vowed never to go back to a college kitchen, but I did.
Miles,
Your memoirs are riveting stuff and I look forward to the next episode. Funny you should mention D’artagnan, I always fancied myself as a bit of a musketeer in life but wasn’t sure the outfit would suit me. Perhaps subconsciously I adopted the frilly white shirt, baggy breeches and feathery hat … I must re-think the wardrobe of a respectable middleaged woman, putting aside my penchant for theatrical dress
Cid
p.s. this week I shall be aiming for the Pre-Raphaelite look whilst clinging on to my D’artagnan boots now it’s turning chilly…
October 7, 2007 @ 12:08 pm
Awesome Dude !
The lecturers were much in the same in engineering when I did it.
Full of their own self-importance and trying to convince students how well they have/are doing !
I laughed at it and them, they were in their 40s, I was 19 and earning more money !
Those that can - do !
Great write-up
Rod
October 7, 2007 @ 1:35 pm
Cid,
Stay as you are-very bohemian!
Miles
October 7, 2007 @ 5:45 pm
Rod,
The point I was trying to make is that they never tried (or knew how) to take the subject matter that extra step. When I explain the concept of a dish to my staff I give them background information; country of origin, why it tastes the way it does, observing the cooking process from start to finish etc.
‘GW’ was obnoxious and I took great pleasure in returning there whilst on annual leave from working in Germany to tell him how well I was doing since he stopped ‘teaching’ me.
Miles
October 7, 2007 @ 5:52 pm
“He told me that I would never make a chef”.
Miles,
I have often wondered about people who make such statements as “You Never Will” - “You Will Never Be”, I think over the years we have all encountered such people whether it be in school or work. Personally I think people who make such bold statements about others see something or a talent at a level in someone that they themselves could never achieve, hence such a battering of their work or confidence.
“They never made it”, so they resent the fact that someone shows the qualities to go further and make the grade. If you know what I mean.
October 8, 2007 @ 5:24 pm
SC,
Quite right, he was full of his own self importance and bordered on being a bully. I’d love him to try it now!
Miles
October 8, 2007 @ 5:45 pm
“Try it Now”
Miles,
I have had them over the years that did try to shall we say push their opinion a little to far. Well as far as they were aloud to get. ….
October 8, 2007 @ 5:55 pm
SC,
Say no more-read you loud and clear!
Miles (from a safe distance!!)
October 8, 2007 @ 6:21 pm
I was once told by an English teacher that nobody would read anything I wrote.
Now, quite literally, millions have !
Quite what they made of it is another matter of course
October 8, 2007 @ 7:11 pm
Hi Miles,
I hope all is well,
I forgot to mention in my previous comment, this is a great write-up, looking forward to reading others on my daily visits to this site.
SC.
October 8, 2007 @ 7:14 pm
Rod,
Now that’s funny!-with teachers like that it’s amazing we ever earned a living.
Miles
October 8, 2007 @ 7:20 pm
SC,
Thanks for the compliment, with regard to the ‘memoirs’ such as this one I am doing it so that visitors to this site can get an insight into the reality of doing what I do as well as for me to look back and see how the past has shaped me into the person I am today (bitter!!)
Hopefully it will strike a chord with others and they will recall stories of their early days in the working world.
Thanks for commenting, it is greatly appreciated.
Miles
October 8, 2007 @ 7:25 pm
Miles,
I think we all agree then that the world is teeming with mediocrity and short-sighted teachers. Thank goodness we all had the strength of character to rise above it and flourish with real musketeer spirit
Cid
October 8, 2007 @ 7:41 pm
Miles,
Now you are taking me down memory lane too. I couldn’t wait to leave school although I had to go to colleges later on. I can only recall 2 lecturers who ever inspired me and showed me what real teaching should have been about and wondered how much more I might have learned. As you have proved the stuff is in us and if not brought out may triumph through sheer grit.
I had an aunt who told my mother and I not to bother with further education as I had not got it in me. Isn’t it a great feeling though when you can prove someone so wrong in later years?
October 8, 2007 @ 8:05 pm
Christine,
Nice to see you’re PC has been repaired!
It seems a common thread about teaching standards, I am not saying all are bad, it can be a very hard job and the good ones deserve a lot of praise but we could all do with a few more of them. Like any other job though, if you yourself don’t feel valued then the rot soon sets in and the consequences can be far reaching.
Miles
October 8, 2007 @ 9:58 pm
Miles,
Thanks, I am very glad the PC is functioning again. I have really missed it, amazing how these machines have become part of our lives. I felt quite “cut off”!
Perhaps I should go in search of an inspiring IT teacher with some technical knowledge. On second thoughts….
October 9, 2007 @ 7:11 pm