Newbie Gourmet

I've been meaning to start a blog for a while. I've done them in the past, while at college, but always gotten too busy to continue doing them. I would make regular posts for a month or two, miss one, and then forget the blog existed.

So, what's changed? Well, now I don't have to worry about exams or parties or the million little things that seem so important when you're in your late teens, early twenties. Now, I just have to worry about my cats and dog, my wonderful fiance, my nice big house and my new job as a baker's apprentice at The Turtle Restaurant in Brownwood, TX. Basically, I am a much more relaxed person with a lot less on my mind and a lot more time on my hands.

I've joined the Daring Bakers over at The Daring Kitchen and will be blogging about the monthly challenges conducted there. Per their rules, though, I can't blog about ongoing challenges and this month is my first challenge, which I can't tell you about until it's over in late April, early May. In the mean time, expect me to be telling you all about my battle wounds as I learn the art of bread baking and cake making.

Hah, the first day working there, I almost cut my finger-tip off. I was not paying attention to my cutting as well as I should have--I was so used to using my dull knives that wouldn't cut through a tomato with ease. Well, I noticed blood on the board and thought, huh, I'm the only person here, so that must be my blood. Sure enough...

Well, I didn't want anyone to see I had cut myself on my first day of work, so I taped my finger back together, put a glove on, and got a new knife and board. Not ten minutes later, the Chef comes in and says, "What did you do to your finger?" (Except he said it with many expletives in that dirty way that I suppose most chefs talk.)

Well, I said all nonchalant, "Whatever do you mean?"

He points to my gloved hand, and I look down to see that blood has pooled all in the glove and it is really rather grotesquely obvious I have injured myself. So, he showed me where the first-aid kit was and the lovely waitress bundled up my finger. I earned my nickname, Stumpy, from Chef that day. Lovely.

For better or worse, Chef has given me a new nickname, Lumpy, due to my unusual need (or love) of trying a little of everything I make: cakes, pies, bread, brownies, creme brulees...it's all good.

My latest battle wounds were blisters on my thumbs from rolling out dough for several hours. That was two weeks or so ago, and Chef of course offered his support: "Learn how to use an [expletive] rolling pin and you won't [expletive] get [expletive] injuries like that. What is WRONG with you?" I love Chef. He's hilarious, and I'm not sure if it's intentional or not.

First post down, a million billion to go....