What's A Neckerchief?

The day of the competition was finally here. I had brought my knife kit that I had received over the summer.  My whites were pressed and my kitchen shoes were shiny and new. I was ready. I checked in at the front desk, there I was given a number to place on my back and front, a few side towels, a hat, an apron, and this strange white scarf. I had no idea what to do with that so I just left it in the plastic bag. 

I know better now of course that this was a rookie mistake, and my first of many rookie mistakes of the day. The "white scarf" I received for those of you who don't know is called a neckerchief. Only really old school chefs wear them under the collar of their jacket, they are useful to absorb sweat when your working in a hot kitchen. In the industry most cooks do not wear them. (Unless you're in culinary school then you are required to wear them as part of your uniform.) 

I was early of course because in the kitchen world being on time means arriving at least 15 to 20 minutes early for everything. I sat, waited, and paced around until they started taking kids to their kitchens according to their last name. There was at least 10 to 15 kids to a kitchen and some kids had to share a station. Luckily, I got my own station. All the ingredients were portioned out in mise bowls, plastic little cups, and bags. I had an entire sheet pan of things that were oh so familiar to me . Things were looking up. 

We had 30 minutes for knife skills and a lot to do in that short half hour. I cut myself and didn't finish on time. I mean I really cut myself it wasn't something I could quietly put a band-aid on and keep going. I was gushing blood and I was so frustrated that I couldn't finish. After an assistant chef helped me to stop the bleeding, I put on a blue finger cot and kept on trucking. 


Now the real 90 minutes began. 90 minutes of running, cooking, stirring, tasting, bumping into people and saying countless times, "Behind you". Stove and oven space was limited to say the least. We all had to fight tooth and nail to get to a burner or even a pan for that matter. It was intense, kill or be killed type of situation. It all seemed like a blur. I started my rice pilaf and shrimp first, those took the longest. While those worked on the fire, I chopped and prepped my broccoli that was the quickest I would leave that until last. Everything was going well up to this point. Except my station was a complete mess of things and I did not really clean as I went. Big deduction  of point on my part. I did manage to keep everything cold that needed to stay cold so there was a plus. 

Time had been called and now we had 10 minutes for plating. I plated my shrimp early and already had it in the fridge but I forgot to really dress it up so I went back and did that. Then I plated my entree but I had trouble keeping it warm because I was one of the last people to be judged. At this point I didn't really care if I won or lost I was just happy that I survived. I walked around to look at some of the other people's plates and they were all really amazing so I new I was out of my league. They had all taken cooking classes in high school and knew what they were doing. Unlike me this wasn't their first time at the rodeo. To be honest, I was a little jealous that my high school didn't offer any type of Home Ec or basic cooking class.  

The day ended with an awards ceremony. I wasn't declared the Best Teen Chef but I was a finalist so I did receive a $500 scholarship to that college. I was a little disappointed, but it was a nice consolation prize. To be totally frank, the money didn't really mean much to me. What I valued most was the experience I had received from the competition. It validated me in knowing that I had much to learn and many days of hard work ahead of me. With an empty stomach and an open mind, I knew that I was ready for culinary school.  

Biting Off More Than I Could Chew?

So here is my big chance to show off everything I knew or what I thought I knew about cooking. I had this idea in my head that this cooking competition would be just like what I had seen on the Food Network. The clock would run out and Alton Brown would put my arm up in the air and declare me the winner of this culinary war. I couldn't have been more wrong because as you might have guessed real life cooking is not as glamorous as Giada De Laurentiis makes it look.

A month or so before the competition I received a packet in the mail of everything I needed to know how to prepare and ingredients for each dish. I was also given a time limit that each task had to be done in, and this made more apprehensive than anything else I had been asked to do. All the contestants  had  to prepare an appetizer of shrimp cocktail and an entree. For my entree, I had to work with chicken as my protein, rice pilaf was my first side and broccoli saute was the second side. Here's the fun part-- the chicken was pretty much my own creation with some basic guidelines. I had to create a sauce for the chicken and the rules said that we could use what we had prepped from the knife skills portion of the contest. So here is what I had to use for the sauce: extra virgin olive oil, clarified butter, heavy cream, demi glace, white or red wine, dijon mustard, thyme, rosemary, mushrooms, diced onions, tomato concasse and chopped parsley. I did many experiments but my final sauce consisted of heavy cream, sauteed mushrooms, dijon mustard and a small amount of tomato concasse which I thought tasted amazing!

At this point in my culinary career I had no idea what demi glace even was so I did not attempt to use that or the wine.  So, I practiced this meal and played with the sauce for my chicken about 6 or more times before the big day. Lets just say my family did not want to eat chicken and rice for a very long time after that. I thought I had everything down and it was a few days before the competition. My nerves got the best of me, and I was so panicked, the idea of food was haunting me in my dreams. I kept running over the strategy in my head and trying to remember the order of how I was going to prep, cook, plate and garnish everything in the short amount of allotted time.

The big day was just around the corner. I could smell it coming like the smell of burnt toast. I had this bad feeling in my gut and I was not feeling at all like the Best Teen Chef.

My First Steps As a Baby Chef

Here's a little secret about me, my first questions when I meet someone new are, What's your favorite food or favorite restaurant?

I want to cook for the world so,I hope you're hungry.

I want to write this blog to document my journey through culinary school and maybe help some aspiring chefs with what I have learned about the reality of cooking school and the culinary world.

My name is Brittany and I am 19 years old. Currently I am enrolled in culinary school and this is a little bit about my life and how I ended up where I am now, Kendall College. I will admit I was and still am a food network junkie but that's not why I got into this business. I knew that working in a kitchen was hard physical labor and I was hungry for it. Everyone told me I was crazy and that I would never make it when I graduated high school.  Most of my classmates wanted to be real estate agents, doctors, nurses, lawyers, and engineers. So I was somewhat of an outcast carrying around my Rachel Ray cookbook and talking about how I had ideas to improve the school cafeteria. More importantly,  I could never picture myself working 9-5 in  a little cubicle  with a computer in front of me. I wanted to pursue my passion for cooking, eating, and being an entertainer and server to people. 

The first exposure I received to the true culinary world was when I dined at Emeril Lagasse's restaurant in Florida. I will never forget the beautiful kitchen and dining room. It took my breath away. The Chef and his cooks all dressed in white were working in unison and in some what controlled chaos. The flames were blazing so high, pots were everywhere and plates were produced so quickly it could make your head spin. After I saw that I was in utter disbelief. I stood there with my mouth ajar like I had just witnessed the best magic trick before my very eyes. I turned to my right and whispered to my mother and father, " I want to do that." 

From that moment on I could  not get enough of eating out and watching the food network. I became the biggest foodie, and I wanted my own set of whites big toque and all . So I found a summer cooking camp and begged my mother to let me attend. She agreed and for a week in July of 2009 my dream had come true. I was in a real kitchen with real knives and a real chef teaching me how to make egg frittatas, humus with pita chips, and baked macaroni. I was introduced to clarified butter which is probably used for about 90% of things in a kitchen. After camp I came home and tried to recreate things that I learned at camp but failed miserably. This was a blow to my confidence but I just practiced and practiced until my food started improving.

Then, I entered my first few cooking contests. The first one I entered, I submitted  an essay and an original recipe. A few weeks later received a letter that I was a semi-finalist in the Best Teen Chef Competition but was I really ready?