Thursday afternoon, I was ready to walk out of class. After completing a complicated series of steps in an heated (in both temperature and perhaps emotional, senses) my partner Kirsten and I completed our afternoon tasks pretty much on time and we thought, well.

We'd been "late to the table" pretty much all week (you're expected to meet a certain deadline for the food you're producing) -- a combination of "needs improvement" communications between the two of us; quest for perfection, whatever. This time we were just a couple of minutes late, and had all our ducks in a row, it seemed. Felt good. That feeling of accomplishment, that buoys you on when things are less good.

Well, we got to the table and sat down to sample our wares -- but first we got completely berated by one of the Chef Instructors. Your sauce has separated. Meat's too rare. Meat's too well done. Unacceptable. It seemed like there was no end to the faults in our "product". To add insult to injury, the Chef-Instructor ended his critique with "well, enjoy your cold meal now". Sardonic humor I think -- but not appreciated at the time. Sucked. I realize that this brow-beating is part of an act -- but like all theatre, it can have the opposite of the desired effect, if overdone. I thought this was overdone -- not unlike the duck we'd served.

The two Chef-Instructor-Owners [update 4/05 -- there are now about 4 1/2 Instructors] have dramatically different personalities -- they complement each other well. Our "Guest Chef Instructor", Chef Barb Finley is a wonderful addition to the fray; she's a Dubrulle Culinary [where Chefs Tony & Christophe previously taught, and I'd applied] graduate, Teacher by training, and seems to have found her calling teaching cooking to kids. Her demeanor is nothing short of wonderful and her patience seemingly infinite. A welcome addition.

This week is the approaching the mid-point of the class (particularly if you discount the time that'll be spend on mid-term and final written and practical exams. Hard to imagine how much we have taken in since April -- or that the class is almost half over. Yikes.

Tomorrow is another day
You see that calendar on the wall
That little number there, printed bold, but very small
There'll be ten thousand more before your name is called
Tomorrow is another day" James Keelaghan

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