The Homestretch

The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. People are exhausted (and therefore have been crying, yelling, swearing and screwing up) and people are anxious and eager to begin life as an extern. The drama associated with securing an externship is astonishing. The Dummy, of course, tried to get a job without telling the chef he was a student, hoping for an extra dollar or two above minimum wage. He was immediately dismissed when he whipped out the externship contract for the chef to sign. The contract requires the chef pay us fair market value ("fair" - a funny way to describe our compensation), work us at least 40 hours per week (another silly contract clause - most externs work 90 hour weeks), and provide written reports to the school about our progress. The chef, enraged that he had been fooled, told our classmate to "get his ass out of the kitchen." What a dummy.

In an effort to get hired, The Big Hawaiian staged for 2 weeks at one of the busiest spots in town.. We'd previously heard the chef at this joint is a huge dick. This was confirmed when the chef returned the Big Hawaiian's contract, signed, with the addition of a handwritten clause "duration of externship is a minimum of 18 months." The Big Hawaiian politely told the chef he was unable to make an 18 month commitment, and the chef told him "sucks for you" and "forget about getting paid for the two weeks of work."

School got exciting last week when The Little Accountant showed up with a dead deer. "Zhees eez geauing du be a guud day!" The Chef proclaimed when he saw the freshly skinned carcass carted into the walk-in.

"Ooh wheel du zhee boochairing?" No one volunteered, except for me. "Wheatknee, pearfect!

Although I didn't really know what I was doing, it went pretty damn well. A deer is much easier to butcher than one would think. The hardest part was maneuvering the thing. Positioning and holding a dead deer carcass on a cutting board is a far cry from a whole chicken. I started by sawing the entire thing in half right below the ribs. I couldn't get a good grip on the thing so I kept getting whacked by flailing hind legs which whipped back and forth as I sawed. Once Bambi was in two pieces, getting the meat off the bones was straightforward. Our meat lectures with The Head of Everything kept popping into my head; he always said "Fhalow zhee bones wis zhee blhade of yor nyfeh."

The second hardest part was hacking up the bones for stock. For a woman, hacking bones is not a particularly becoming activity. It takes a hefty upswing followed by a strong downswing and a thunderous pound onto the cutting board. If you hesitate, it simply won't work. I discovered this when I would take an upswing, close my eyes (making sure my free hand was behind my back!), and lamely strike the bones with the cleaver. "Neau, Neau, Neau! Why yeau deau eet zhis whay? Zhee momint yeau leeft zhee cleaveur, you most comeet teau whaking zhee bone as ard as poseeble!" The Chef demonstrated for me. I noticed at the top of his upswing, he was on his tiptoes. Using every ounce of his 4'2", 110 lb. body, this little french man shot the cleaver into the deer and yelled "VOILA!" He cleanly sliced through the bone it was impressive and entertaining.

I loved the venison. We marinated the meat overnight prior to cooking to decrease the gamey flavor of the meat. We used olive oil, rosemary, garlic, oranges and onions. We also marinated the bones in red wine to flavor the wine for our Sauce Grande Venuer (a classic venison sauce made with red wine and currant jelly).

Venison should be cooked exactly like steak, but is much leaner, so be careful not to overcook it.

Our eight course tasting challenge looms (the last class had Michele Richard as the head judge!). I was snooping around again and eyed some paperwork indicating it may be a girls vs. guys showdown. YES!