The undomesticated vs the kitchen
MANILA, Philippines - I can’t remember the point where I stopped being nervous. I know it started when I recklessly browsed through the list of recipes we had to cook — my mouth went agape with the fancy names of dishes that I was almost sure wouldn’t turn out edible under my tutelage. Then, I was about two levels shy of an anxiety attack when Chef Rosebud Benitez entered the room, looking part mighty, part someone who could eat me alive if I screwed up. The panic only really started to simmer down when we were told we would have student assistants, because it ended up being someone I went to high school with; or it could be that the smell of the salsa that my partner and I were making proved to be a natural tranquilizer. But just when I was beginning to warm up to this whole cooking business, someone, a member of a team across our table, set his pan on fire — causing loud gasps from everyone in the room, and sending my nerves into overdrive.
You see, throwing on a real chef’s uniform was just the icing on top of this gastronomic exploit’s cake, and it really sealed the pangs of doubt I had. Puncturing my every succeeding thought was the fact that this was all going to be legit, that the apron that was conveniently draped around my waist confirmed that I was at the point of no return. It was then that I realized, from now until this whole session ended, that I just couldn’t afford to stop being nervous. Not with fire, not with hot pans and breakables, and no, not even with a pinch of salt over the shoulder for luck. But I guess if I was about to make a mockery out of my lack of domestic skills, I could at least look the part.
Eight dishes in three hours seemed like an ambitious feat, especially for those of us who weren’t taking the Center for Culinary Art’s Kitchen Discovery Course as a perquisite to a two-year diploma course in Culinary or Baking Pastry Arts. Last April 13, at CCA Kitchen Eastwood, we weren’t trying to gauge a potential future as a chef; we were just folks who were eager to channel our inner Nigella, or harness our culinary badasses, Anthony Bourdain-style. But it must have been the appetizing aroma ascending from our pans, or the faint, warm lighting that made every ingredient so vibrant, or maybe (and this might be pushing it on my part) our sautéed scallops didn’t taste bad at all — which made it look like we were actual CCA students who were just realizing our culinary prowess. For a moment there, while I intently surveyed the room, the kitchen seemed such a friendly place to me.
As my mind was trying to grapple with the rapid fire of instructions, and figuring out what a “tapenade” was, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been teleported into a Top Chef episode. Only we weren’t really competing, and I was going head to head with people who were not only towering over me by an unnerving number of inches, but also ones who could give Padma Lakshmi a run for her money. To put it accurately, it would be an episode of Top Chef: models do eat and can cook up a mean chicken satay — as it was made clear that it wasn’t only the cooking that was heating the room up.
My biggest mistake was believing that I’d actually survive the KDC gracefully, without any major blunders that would be directly traced to me. Not only can I not pull off whisking cream cheese with finesse but — adding insult to injury — out of all the times that Chef Rosebud had to take a peek at what my team was up to, he had to witness a moment of sheer weakness, curiosity and idiocy all rolled into one. I took a regrettable taste of the chicken marinade, and while it tasted real nice, I became the resident taste-tester because of my awkward (and apparently brave) collision with raw food. Thank God for the tiramisu that ate all of my shame, and of course, the moron-proof salmon ceviche recipe that I got to take home.
Debunked myths, eye candy, and kitchen damage control aside, I was just glad (and lucky) to emerge from there unscathed, free of any charges because of the frying pan I accidentally dropped, and a stomach all set to starve for the next day. I successfully unleashed my inner chef, and I didn’t even have to suffer from a food coma.
