Hungry.

"All real Americans love the sting of battle." --George S. Patton

OMG.

Midwinter Break officially sucks.
After my victory at regionals, I thought that I was exhausted, and was so glad that I wasn't going to have to go to school for an entire week, but I was quickly disillusioned.

Monday. I really didn't do much of anything. I hibernated until the ungodly hour of 9, went to school with Michelle, came home, and proceeded to squander the rest of my day on completely pointless pursuits.

Tuesday looked the same in a lot of ways. Except for one thing that shook me out of my mold a little. Now, anyone who knows me well, knows that I love Love LOVE watching any sort of cooking show. Ever since I was little. Every Tuesday, there is a show called Chopped on the Food Network. There are four chefs that square off over a three course meal (Appetizer, Entree, and Dessert) , with one chef eliminated after each course. The winner walks away with $10,000, and the title of Chopped Champion.

So, I turn on the T.V. and get into my favorite chair, and start watching. It's customary for me to pick my favorite of the four chefs, and either predict, or hope that he/she will win. This week it was Madison.

Madison Cowan is a South London native who is now living, and has a restaurant in New York. He's an incredible chef, and has an emotional and almost spiritual connection with all of his food. Seriously, look him up on hulu or something, and watch him cook. Like Now.

But there was something about him that immediately recognized, and decided that I wanted, and I would do anything to get. He had an insatiable hunger (figurative) to be the best. He was completely focused, and was in it with his entire heart. And his dishes were completely flawless. I mean FLAWLESS, people.

During the competition, he and his opponent were very well matched, and because of that, he was absolutely pushed and driven to do better, and ultimately be the best.

This is what I want.
I want to be pushed to my limit. And then pushed harder.
I want to pour my soul into my work.

But most of all, I want to be the best.
The very best.

The Heat of Battle

"War is cruelty, and none can make it gentle." Gilbert Parker.

I fought in a war today, and came out the victor.

Today was the Regional Competition for Skills USA.

Me and twenty-three other students met together at Oakland Community College for this competition. I was in a culinary classroom with five other students, and after we set up our stations, we all went into the lecture hall for some guidelines.

While we were there, we were introduced to a few of the judges, and given some basic ground rules. Basically : no talking to other students, be courteous, and be conscious of the time limit.

The menu was a pan-roasted chicken breast, basmati rice pilaf, vegetable medley, and a poulette sauce. We had a 2 1/2 hour time limit, which seems like kind of a long-ish time, but trust me, it's really not.

For the first ten minutes, my brain was frozen. I just started gathering random ingredients that I knew I was going to eventually need. As I went on, though, I really started to feel the rhythm of things. I was totally in my own zone. Keeping my head down, and not even caring what the other contestants were doing.

I truly think that I turned into a machine.

After plates were finished, we had to clean up all three kitchen areas that we had been using. This took pretty much the entire time for the judges to deliberate, which was good. I was glad to be doing something, rather than sitting around waiting endlessly for the verdict.

The judges and host gathered us all into the big kitchen, and congratulated us on our accomplishments, and told us that we should be proud of what we had put out today. They made a few more comments, and then got down to the "nitty-gritty".

I wasn't expecting to place very high. I kept listening for my number(24), and they kept not calling it. I waited through the twenties, teens, and through the single numbers. when it came down to third place, and they still hadn't called my number, I thought that maybe there was a mistake. Like they had forgotten my number, or something. Then I heard,

"First place, Student Number24."

I looked at Chef Nate and my other schoolmates in complete disbelief.

I went up, accepted my prize (a 5 quart stainless steel Cuisinart pot), and my medal.

The next half-hour was a complete blur. People congratulating, handshakes, smiles, blushing. It was amazing.

Chef Nate called Chef Dave and Chef Tony when we finally got on the road back to school, and told them how we placed.

"Well, Sherard placed 19th, Kamyriah placed 18th, and I believe that Aubry placed, um, first."

Neither of them could believe it. They were so excited, and proud. They have both been such a huge part of my success. Pushing me when I wanted to stop, and giving me encouragement when I needed it. They're great. Thanks, guys. :]

Also, the entire reason that I even made it this far is sheerly because of the Grace of God. He supplies the strength for my every move (and every dish:)). All glory be to Him.

Thanks for all of your support as well, dear readers. It is totally impossible to tell you how much it means to me. I love and appreciate you all.

TI AMO.

It's Training, It's Pouring...

"Excellence is an art won by training and habituation." --Aristotle

Well, this week of training has got me thinking that this competition is going to be a bit more intense than I first thought.
But there's one thing that I'm sure of, and that is this:

I am extremely slow.

I didn't really think so when I started, but the chefs have definitely made me aware of this.

In the beginning of the week, I kind of got into the swing of things, and got a reasonably good pace (at least I thought I did), and then Friday, I was completely off my game.

When I came in, Chef Dave told me that he wanted me to make two sauces, and he wanted them done by 9 o'clock. Which shouldn't have been a big deal, because I started with twenty minutes.

Somehow, I had a total lapse in memory, and forgot how to cut everything. Chef Dave came over to see how I was doing, and asked me if I was alright.

'Jeez, is it that bad?' I thought to my self.

I told him that I was fine, just really scattered. I got my sauces done, twenty-five minutes late.

The rest of the day was kind of the same. I stayed for C-shift, and cooked the four orders we got on the line.

I'm really going to try to do way better this week, but I need you all help by praying for me. I'm starting to get a little nervous... :/

Thanks for reading, guys.