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.