Always was a student of the Stan Lee School of Hyperbole. Of course, If this was a comic book cover, there'd be a blurb proclaiming, “In this issue – Everybody Dies!!” or somesuch. But fear thee not, fanatical one. No one dies here, although some have given up the ghost.
Anyway, where was I ...? Oh, yeah. I recently completed the Salvation Army/CSN culinary course which had been such a cause of aggravation for me over the past few months. While the prospect finally getting the course over with was the source of much elation, I now feel a bit deflated. I guess it took a few days for me to realize that the course – the experience – was indeed over for good.
Odd isn't it that often the very things that irritate us (people, events, circumstances, etc.) turn out to be hings we miss when they're gone. In my case, maybe the CSN course represented a challenge that I didn't detect at the time. I detailed many of my difficulties with the course in prior installments. There were times when I was tempted to simply walk away from not only the college course, but the entire Salvation Army vocational program as well.
Thankfully, I didn't make any hasty decisions and managed to finish out the process. So I do take a sense of pride in that accomplishment, and actually graduating from the course, even though it comes with an *asterisk or two. The accelerated culinary course is designed specifically for SA; it's unavailable to anyone else. I think the CSN/SA program is watered down (some might dumbed down) in terms of grading and more lenient in terms of tolerating student (mis)behavior.
For example, when I went to college in the past, I never had an open book test. I never got a +12 handicap on a test to ensure I wouldn't fail. I never had take-home quizzes that actually counted. Students arriving late to class or chattering during class were disciplined, not indulged. And students shouting death threats to each other (“I'm gonna kill you, motherf***er!”) would have been summarily ejected or at least harshly disciplined.
Maybe it's just the changing times. More likely, it's because many SA participants are atypical students. Many are just out of prison or rehab. They're mostly adults and have racked up a checkered past, to put it kindly. Because of their circumstance (including homelessness), maybe SA/CSN decided to cut the students a break to enhance their chances for success. Then again, maybe the CSN faculty is afraid that some of these freaks and felons might break out an AK-47 or machete (or both) if they receive a failing grade.
The graduation dinner took place in the campus restaurant, which resembles a Chills or Applebees place in terms of décor and ambiance. The 3-course dinner, consisting of appetizers like stuffed mushrooms (w/crabmeat), steak flank roll with spinach, cottage cheese and bacon, and cheesecake w/almondine nougat and mango sorbet was prepared by we students, and was well-received as far I could tell. The only thing I had a direct hand in making were the appetizers. Ironic because I can eat neither crabmeat or mushrooms. Still, many guests seemed to find the appetizers their favorite part of the menu. I'll take whatever credit I can steal.
There was a palpable tension amongst the students as serving time approached. Not so much panic, but stage fright. These guys had basically been working in the background and now they were being presented on stage before their friends, family, instructors, and most important, the moneybags who bankrolled the project and wanted to see if their money was well-spent or flushed down the toilet. History will have to be the judge of that. (It's probably academic anyway since I expect this program serves as a huge tax break/writeoff for somebody out there.)
So after a lot of anxiety, we were marched out in single file to the applause of the guests. I looked about, bemused; it was like a parade of children being shown off to their parents. There were speeches given by 3 students (your Humble Narrator was not one of said 3) about what the course and SA meant to them. There were the expected awkward pauses (and soothing reassurances from the audience), flubbed lines, and fingers pointed to the ceiling while giving thanks to “my personal Lord and savior Jesus Christ.” One speaker summed up by flashing peace signs and proclaiming, “Deuces!” to the mystification of half the crowd (the unhip half, I expect.)
Then we had a brief ceremony which involved our names being called out alphabetically while we walked to the podium to receive our official medallions (complete with names engraved on the back) from the chefs. Upon receiving my medallion I told the crowd, “Thanks and please drive safely!” Yeah, well, I had to say something. We assembled again at the front of the room for another round of applause before exiting.
Then it was down to biz, and that's when nerves of steel quickly unwound, frayed, and came apart. The pressure was on, and my erstwhile comrades did what they do best in such a situation: They panicked. Suddenly everyone wanted to be The Chef and started shouting orders, often contradicting each other in the same breath. The real Chefs had to step in and tell everyone to calm down. I, of course, kept my cool. Well, for the most part anyway.
Which prompted me to reply, “Look I'm doing this as fast as I can. If it's not fast enough, get somebody else, so make up your mind. Maybe you can call down your personal Lord and savior Jesus Christ to get it done.” (OK, I didn't really say that last bit about JC, but I wish I had. Hindsight is 20/20, and so on ...) Anyway, I exchanged places with the rice guy and things went a bit more smoothly, although he had many of the problems I did. We managed to get all the plates done, and that was it for the main course. Afterwards, I had to smile at the ridiculousness of all that anxiety over asparagus. For the love of all that's holy. Don't they know it makes your urine smell weird?
After that, it was cake, so to speak. The dessert was quickly served, after which students mingled with guests, chefs, etc. A class picture was taken (still haven't seen it) and we eventually gathered to eat the fruits of our labor, so to speak. There was an overall sense of relief, like a pent-up breath finally being released. People unwound, we cleaned up, said our goodbyes to the chefs, thanked our support group of waiters and servers, and .... it was time for one last ride back to SA from the CSN campus. That hardly a word was spoken is hardly a surprise: We'd been at work from 5am that day until after 10pm working in the SA and CSN kitchens. You know how you can be so tired it doesn't actually hit you until the next day? That was us.
And now I'm gonna blindside you. I originally planned to make this one post, but it's gone on so long that I'll have to split it up. So let's leave off for now and next time I'll sum up what been happening post-graduation with me and some of my fellow alums. Yep, I know: Nothing was said about this being a two-parter. But check it: Y'all should know how I roll.
Deuces!
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