Thursday: I stepped off the bus on the way to school in the morning, and immediately and inexplicably found myself lying on the concrete. Had this been an American city, people would have applauded such a spectacle, but we're in Canada and they're far too nice for that sort of thing (or they don't have the training we do, in schadenfreude). In fact, people seeing the event actually looked concerned(!). But hey, people here say "Good morning!" to Bus Drivers when getting on board, and "Thank you!" when alighting. [I rather admire this; it can't be a great job to be a bus driver, and I'm getting used to these kindnesses, myself]. It is foreign... but not at all unpleasant.

The damage: trashed the left side of my left foot; ground up an elbow a bit. Pales in comparison with last year's injury around this time. The foot's very colorful. Ample purple stripe along the side -- you'd think it was painted on. Purplish toes where the smashed blood cells are hanging out, awaiting the lymphatic system's to carry them off... wherever it is they go. Alas, the feet are not on the body's highest priority when it comes to damage-repair.

The foot wouldn't fit in a shoe. (I had to miss class on Friday, for the first time. No permanent damage, tho').

Was in a great deal of pain but I got through the whole day. Chef Tony (good soul that he is) was nice enough to make a pharmacy run for me; mostly kindness, part perhaps the entirely-plausible concern that some kindly Canadian might want to put me out of my misery like the sorry dog I was. Tylenol with codeine is sold over the counter in Canada; praise be (on the other hand -- naproxen sodium aka Aleve, sold OTC in the US, is not sold here -- go figure). I digress.

Something really interesting resulted from the experience (working through the pain). Its great when there's a silver lining to this sort of thing. Read on:

We'd had the homework assignment the previous day, to create a menu using ingredients we were given beforehand (as opposed to a "black box" where you're given mystery ingredients and asked to make something mahvelous out of them on the spot -- this awaits The Dreaded Final Exam week).

This menu-develpment exercise was supremely interesting to me because it is a highly left-brain activity, and my right brain is obviously addled (see this link for a example of right brain/left brain tasks, using ahem Richard Nixon as an example). I spent a couple of hours non-stop -- looking at recipes that fit both my ingredients (lobster, fennel, spinach, was it?), the theme (Italian) -- and my personal tastes. Others in the class (right brainers, obviously) scribbled their work on the back of envelopes immediately before running with it [this talent was ascribed to Abraham Lincoln's crafting of the Gettysburg Address -- but apparently this is a myth]. ANYWAY...

Up to now (this optimistic wording presumes the lesson carries forward) I've had challenges (euphemism alert!) getting my class work done on time, and/or made a complete mess while accomplishing it. Working essentially while standing on one foot, all but hopping around for my mise-en-place ingredients... well, when I got a critique of my plate (I prepared medallions of lobster on a Sicilian-style tomato sauce over fresh fettuccini, spinach gnocchi[example recipe] with an alfredo sauce, and a fennel-orange salad with pistachio nuts and shaved parmesan) [hungry yet?].

I thought I'd screwed up totally (besides, I was feeling pretty damn sorry for myself at this juncture) -- but Chefs Christophe and Tony had a different and interesting take on it [paraphrased...]:

"The lobster is excellent. You showcased the principal ingredient well. The presentation is good." [suggestions that I make better use of the "white space" on the plate -- no need to force the preparations to the edge].

"The gnocchi are very good [thank God they didn't actually taste one; they were bricks by the time they got to my plate] but you should have tossed them completely in sauce". OK, I can do that.

"The salad is excellent". [commentary-brevity is always good when coming from Chefs Christophe and Tony].

"By the way, this is the best mise-en-place you have done in your entire time here". Maybe your pain is keeping you from over-analysing your work, and you're just doing it [translation: "don't think so much"]"

Whoa!

I laughed out loud. Mind you, I was in a lot of pain - I remember there were tears welling in my eyes - (yet, at the same time, I was well-medicated). The notion that intellect could actually get in the way of creativity -- its pretty interesting stuff. My analytical mind has trouble allowing for the possibility that it could actually be in its own way.

It set me to thinking about demands on the brain for preparing food. I'd been thinking way too much about the work, and not trusting my education and experience (I'm 47, I've been cooking at some level for ~25 years). Whoa, indeed.

Friday-Sunday: The weekend was lovely -- sunny, hot (for Vancouver in June), nearly cloudless. There were several things going on about town: dragon boat festival, new Farmer's Market opening nearby, and all the usual delights that greet someone apt to wander (like me). Unfortunately I could partake of none of this. Trapped in my little apartment, watching life go by around me as my wounded foot got treated with alternate application of elevation, ice and a compression bandage. It was a lousy time to be infirm. (say, do you hear the sound of tiny violins, playing their rendition of "it must really suck to be you", right now? No, me neither).

Anyway, 'spent all of Friday and 95% of Saturday indoors; by Sunday I was so ready to be "out and about" that I was willing to limp around in order to do it. Moved a bit slow but at least I got out for a while.

Monday next (6/21/04) brought another revelation.

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