Knife Cuts, the Final

Once again there is flour all over my arms and my dance pants. It's been a whole semester since I rolled out croissants in Singing Wheat Kitchen, and I've missed them more than I expected. With final exams over now at the premier cooking college, I can play with dough until next week, when the introduction to baking and pastry class begins. Here is a photo of the partial board in my final exam effort - a "citrus supreme" with half of the orange zest required, just to the right, so Chef could count the number of strips; also a mince of shallot and of parsley, and a "concasse" of tomato.

There were carrots cut into circles (rondele) and potatoes cut into 1/4 inch logs, plus varying sizes of diced spuds and a few "tourne" of new potatoes. I cut as well as I had ever done it. Was it a perfect effort? Well no, not by Foundations 1 standards of judging (never be the first to be judged, just like in ice skating). It was, though, the best I had ever done, and of that I feel a sense of elan.

Almost near the end of the exam, a woman who's a gracious lady exclaimed "Oh no! I just cut off my finger!" If this were France she would have yelled "au secours!" I'm amazed she didn't scream "merde" or worse. Chef talked with her and watched her bandage up, telling her the hospital wouldn't be able to do anything about the tip. I've talked with a surgeon and another chef since, and they agree that this is true; they can't do anything much in that situation. Well, she wrapped it herself and returned to finish the knife work. Can you imagine the courage to pick up the knife? The whole moment presented one of life's dilemmas when something goes very wrong: Do you stop and render aid, or do you keep going to finish your work?

As it was, Chef was there and in command, so the rest of us just kept going, feeling terrible all the while.

That lady is a champion. I would have vaulted to the floor in a dead faint.

Mind if I just depart here and roll out a few croissants? There's no cutting involved.