Sights and Smells of the commute.

Sorry for the lack of updates this week. Its been a long one, and not too eventful. I thought I'd give you a virtual sensory tour of the commute I take.

The bus ride itself isn't bad. Just lots of green fields and too many cars. Punk kids and wanna be gangsters mix in with the business people, just trying to get to work. I normally have a book with me at all times.

Once I get to the city is when things get interesting. A man washes down the sidewalk and the smell of bleach stings my nose, but its the pungent smell of urine under that makes my nose wrinkle.

All the way down the street I pass blankets rolled out in front of business doors, some occupied some not. The man who sells carnations and newspapers in front of a Burger King says hello to me everyday to me. I smile back and most of the time he gives me a carnation just because I treated him like a human being, whereas most people ignore him or hurl insults at him.

Turning the corner towards school I pass a group of three huddled under their blankets. These three, I avoid. Its not that they are rude or anything, but the last time I gave one of them a dollar, immediately she came back with booze. It sadness me that the dollar didn't go towards something more important. The homeless problem in the area is horrid, and I know that its just a small segment of those in town that are without homes, and most without hope.

The best part of my day is on my way back from school, after the shuttle ride back from the main campus. Whatever I made in class that day, I've spooned into little containers. I make a point to gather leftovers from anyone in class who doesn't want them. On my way back up to my bus stop, I hand out the containers to the people I see sitting in breeze ways trying to stay away from the cold wind that whips through the streets. I feel good that they are getting something healthy and warm to eat. I know its not doing much, but I like to think I make a little bit of a difference.

A Side Note:

Brunhilde cracked once more. After failing the final in Food Science, (which is stupid in itself, because we were allowed to use our notes) and getting a D in the class, she stormed out and punched a locker in the hallway. The dent was 4 inches deep. She won't be at school anymore. They kicked her out, and are making her pay for the lockers she damaged. I hope she grows up soon.

A Pre-Potter Post

A little tid bit about Chef M.

He is constantly spouting off against big business, the government, and the deteriation of the American diet. And the immorality of Phillip Morris and Procter & Gamble.

Of course while I was at the fair I saw him curled up with a bottle of beer at the horse races. ;-)

A HUGE bravo to New York for banning all Trans Fats from being sold or used in restaurants!

Cast of Crazy Characters

5Like every good writer, there is a cast of characters* to my little story. A colorful group of teachers and classmates that attend L'Academie with me.

* All names have been changed to protect the innocent, or the very stupid.

Brunhilde: A very tall girl with the maturity level of a 9 year old. She delights in physical comedy, normally played out at someone else's expense. Also has anger-management issues, and possibly a kleptomaniac.

Chef S: Skills teacher.
Chef M: Food Science and Nutrition.
Yes, S&M do sometimes make the kitchen feel a bit... dungeon-esque.

Angel: Named for a character in Rent. Angel is normally found buried in his head phones or flirting outrageously with MiMi and Pierce.

Wash: My counterpart as the only other married person in class. Very smart, more than capable, and genuinely funny.

Maureen: Token lesbian of the group. (Her words not mine.) Has a girlfriend who is oft mentioned. Gifted cook, worked as a pastry chef before this.

Pierce: As his name suggests, heavily pierced and tattooed. Heavy smoker, but nice guy.

MiMi: Half Japanese, Half Jamaican. A Bob Marley enthusiast. Only person so far who has cut themselves badly enough to warrant stitches.

There are, of course, more people in the class, and I will add them to the roster as needed.

And now a quick blurb from today:

During one of our mid term exams in skills, Brunhilde cracked under pressure. She picked up a cast iron skillet and slammed it into Chef S' locker, breaking the door beyond repair. She was sent out of class to go cool her size 14 heels in the hallway.

Honestly, this is a private college. Did she think that she would be rewarded for acting like a two year old having a tantrum?

On a positive note, the King of Cheese is venturing out to grab the latest Harry Potter book. I can't say when I'll update next. However, here's a sneak peek of whats coming up next!

"If you wanna make an omelet, you've gotta break some heads".... I mean "eggs."

Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?

" 'The time has come,' the walrus said. 'To speak of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings.' "

To be honest, starting the culinary academy was a bit like falling down the rabbit hole. I'd dreamed and plotted about attending this school since I was 14 years old, so when I received notice that I'd been accepted to the Academy and put on my chef's coat for the first time, it was not unlike Alice's first glimpse of wonderland.

Shiny stainless steel kitchens, gas ranges with pilot lights glowing blue, full pantry, and... well maybe not a magical wonderland with talking rabbits and pocket watches, but a veritable pantheon of culinary expertise and equipment.

It's the end of my third week here at the Academy and things are going well. I'm not so fond of my bus ride of two and a half hours each way, but it's a small price to pay for fulfilling a dream. Walking around the City everyday is a joy and the view is gorgeous. Its a bit odd walking past the opera house. I can't help but wonder; if I had chosen a different path, would I be there instead of in the kitchen?