Tag Archives: learning

What I Learned in Culinary School (and Why I’m Quitting)

academics, food, work, , , , , ,

Class Photo

After 22 classes and 110 hours in the kitchens, I am sad but proud to have finished the Culinary Techniques course at the International Culinary Center.

We began on day one by struggling to chop some onions and carrots, and trying to memorize the French names of all the new equipment. Some of us cut ourselves simply pulling knives out of our bags. Somehow that lesson took five hours to cover. We were green as the tray of herbs that was passed around for an identification lesson.

By the last class, the metronome had sped up but we were keeping pace. Dice the mushrooms, cover them with parchment, reduce the sauce, steam the mussels, put everything together in a painstakingly labor intensive French fashion that looks and tastes better than any version you’ve cooked at home. The initial novelty had worn off, replaced by a comfortable autopilot.

In a nutshell, here’s what I learned in culinary school:
Continue reading What I Learned in Culinary School (and Why I’m Quitting) →

An Employment Epistle

life, work, , , , , ,

Dear R.,

It has only been six weeks since that napkin-crumpling, tear-stained breakfast with you at the Z-7 Diner, but it feels like years have passed. My job was on tenterhooks; I needed to find a new one or soon join the swelling ranks of the unemployed. Murmurs of a double dip recession were getting louder. I had so many questions and too little time. What do you do with a gastronomy degree anyway? Why is it that the sustainable, “socially responsible” organizations are the ones offering only unpaid internships? How do I land a new apartment lease in the highly competitive NYC real estate market if I can’t demonstrate an income? I am a fighter, yes, but this city is one who fights back. And I was determined to go down in a Viking pyre of glory.

So I started reaching out for help. I talked to old friends’ drinking buddies, lingered to chat with the cheesemonger, shook hands at conferences. I cyberstalked people whose jobs I wanted in ten years and wheedled them into grabbing coffee with me. I emailed you on a whim because—I don’t know—it seemed like you’d made some valuable mistakes before, and you weren’t hesitant to talk about them.

Most of all, I talked to myself. I said that I wanted to write. You asked one innocent yet oh-so-probing question that morning that stuck with me: why should anyone read what I have to say? How do I gain credibility as a writer? After all, you don’t have to bill yourself as a writer to be one. Dan Barber’s platform is his role as chef-owner of Blue Hill; Marion Nestle is a professor at NYU. I let that one marinate, as I searched for roles that would give me a soapbox.

Along the way, I made some incredibly naive mistakes. There was the time I asked a teacher if he would serve as a reference for me. He flatly turned me down. After all, I’d written a publicly critical blog post about the university that he served. There was the time I got rejected for an interview with a publicity agency. Though they were impressed by my cover letter, after Googling me, they’d stumbled across the aforementioned blog post and decided I was too risky a prospect—what if I decided to “write an angry tirade” about them? It turns out that being a writer with opinions is perceived as a threat. For the first time, people were paying attention to what I had to say, and I didn’t want them to.

Things happen in stochastic ways. Maddening weeks went by, as I sent out dozens of resumes into a void of silence. I kept rewriting my cover letter. I applied for unpaid internships and jobs that I was overqualified for. They never replied. I considered going back to economics research. Finally, I sent in an application to work as a sales representative at W&T Seafood, a second generation seafood distributor in Brooklyn. When I met the manager, we hit it off with the immediate chemistry that children born of immigrant entrepreneurs share.

She thought I was smart and would fit into the company handily. The problem was, I wasn’t all that interested in sales. I did, however, have other talents that could be harnessed. W&T was looking to expand some of its PR and marketing initiatives, projects that I was eager to tackle. Would they hire me for a position that didn’t exist yet? We gave it a few days of thought and one updated job description later, I was officially on board as the business development and communications guru.

So there you have it. Kids, the surefire way to get a job is to interview at a company, confess that you’d rather do something else, and then work with them to come up with the perfect position for you. I now have a new role as the voice of W&T, a vehicle that allows me to write with expertise on sustainable seafood. I’ve learned how to negotiate a salary and how to identify companies I wouldn’t be a good fit for. I’m 3 for 3 with jobs that allow me to bike to work and don’t require dressing up. I feel like a winner.

This euphoria won’t last. But I felt the need to capture it—right now at 6 am—to bottle it for the next time I’m in a panic. It’s a potent homebrew of optimism built on proactive perseverance.

Feel free to take a sip when you need it.

Thanks again,
C

Why I’m Never Going to Make It as a Writer

academics, life, writing, , , , ,

Corby Kummer, august senior editor for the Atlantic and one of my all-time idols, thinks my writing is shit.

Fine, he didn’t say it exactly like that.

Kummer was teaching a weeklong writing workshop, and everyone had submitted second drafts of essays on food. One by one, he whisked us into the hallway for individual conferences, then periodically returned to give comments to the entire group. All day, I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Why wasn’t my piece being read out loud to the class? Why was it at the bottom of the pile?

Wendy was one of the lucky ones. Her first paper was so perfect that her “revision” was to write another paper.

For the second paper, Kummer told her that he had no comments. It was perfect, again.

I congratulated her on her double win. Then I went back to doing what I do best—worrying while looking happy about it.

Bells tolled. My afternoon stupor was interrupted by Emily’s shoulder tap. “Hey Crystal, he wants to see you.”

In the vending machine alcove, Kummer was marking papers with a vengeance. I glanced at mine, lying on top of a trash can. It looked oddly clean and blank.

“You’re an expert writer, but you’re too self-conscious.”

Kummer looked at me, eyes framed under a furry blanket of hair. He continued.

“I read some of these lines and think, ‘Would you say that in speech?’

“Take this part, where you talk about dropping a lobster into boiling water: ‘The sucker will thrash and create a lively ruckus.’

“It’s like you’re detached and having these self-conscious remarks. You’re so incredibly aware of what you’re doing that it’s distracting. You just sound…Writerly. With a capital W.”

Did I mention that Kummer rejected me for a writing fellowship at the Atlantic three months ago?

I needed to defend myself.

“When you tell me to use monosyllabic words, I feel like it strips away my writing. Maybe I like using long words in daily conversation!”

Kummer gave me a skeptical look. “Shall we go through this piece from the beginning?”

I nodded. I needed to pee.

“You have moments that flow. This part about adding ‘fistfuls of julienned scallions, ginger and garlic’ is nice. Oh, and I can’t believe I missed this the first time—‘Atop a clinical ad seeking sperm donors, I gently placed the cutting board’– that is such a lovely detail.

“This reference to Hades, I just don’t think you would say that in speech. Did you really mean to say that?”

I twitched on the inside.

“Maybe I’ve been reading too much Jane Grigson [a writer who uses lots of classical references]. I don’t know, I was working on this at 6 am.”

“Oh my.”

“Well, it was better than writing it post-party.”

Kummer gave me a look. I am not sure if it was sympathetic or admonishing.

He went on. “Are you familiar with David Szanto? He had the same problem.”

David is a writer who taught at the beginning of the year. He is also a former student at the university, and my go-to advisor for all matters related to writing.

“David used to say, ‘I can write this piece with 3 different tones. What would you like to see? ’

“I guess I want to see you develop a consistent voice. What do you sound like?”

I looked at Kummer and stammered, “Don’t you see? I feel incredible pressure to write whatever you want me to write.”

“But that’s exactly it, I want to hear you.”

I started to cry. God, I hate when I do that.

“What if I am a pretentious person who loves high-falutin language?” I asked.

“You would call yourself a pretentious person?”

“Do you see the shirt that I’m wearing?” I waved at my body. “It says, ‘Bad grammar makes me [sic].’ If you called me pretentious, I would not be offended.”

Kummer’s face wrinkled with a smirk.

“You know, back when I was younger, people called me pretentious too. So I can relate.

“Writers have a way of hiding behind a façade, and you can’t really get to know them. It’s like they have something to protect. They want you to see a certain aspect of themselves, or maybe they’re too embarrassed to show their true selves.

“I want to see who you really are.

“This line—‘stop being a pussy and just kill the damn thing.’ I think that’s you. That’s who I want to hear.

“Now, I really wish I could read more of your writing. I’m curious about what your voice really is. After working with David for a week, I think he really nailed it down.”

He handed me a blue tissue. I wiped my nose less than gracefully.

“You know what, David thinks my writing is great.”

“Of course, I’m not surprised,” Kummer replied.

“I am sorry that I have made you upset.”

I waved him off between sniffles. “No no, it’s all right, I really appreciate your honesty.”

“Okay fine, then I’m not sorry that I made you upset.

“I am being so harsh because I want you to go to that next level.

“I spent half my time copyediting the rest of the class’ papers. In terms of copyediting, this is flawless.

“You’re an excellent writer—you’ve made yourself into one—and you’re ambitious.”

Maybe he was making that up entirely.

I bet he hates that I used the word “august” to describe him in line one.

I don’t care.

Italian for People Who Can’t Legge Bene

academics, , , , , ,

In the months between my acceptance and moving to Italy, I spent a good chunk of time learning Italian through as many venues as possible. I went through three levels of Rosetta Stone. I read Italian blogs and newspapers. I discovered some great Italian films (and some pretty terrible melodramatic, sad-violin ones). Then, I stepped onto my first train in Italy, promptly missed the transfer and ended up in Cuneo. It was about 8 pm on a Mon night, and the trains stop running shortly thereafter. Panicked, I tried to ask the guy across the aisle for help, but all the Italian I’d learned had flown out the window. Luckily, he knew enough English to tell me I had 5 minutes left to catch the last train of the night. Clearly, my Italian still had a ways to go.

For the most part though, I don’t need to know that much Italian for day to day living, other than talking to vendors. All coursework is in English, and Italian classes are not part of the Food Culture & Communications program at the University of Gastronomic Sciences. So, if you are serious about learning Italian, you’d better do it on your own. Alternatively, you can also make your way through a year in Italy by honing your skills at charades, but that is passing up a grand opportunity to learn one of the world’s most beautiful languages.

It is not well-publicized, but the city of Bra actually offers Italian classes for foreigners through the Informagiovani office. The website is not updated to have information on course offerings (of course), but according to this article, there are not only foreign language courses, but also classes on film and computers. You can also sign up for classes in other languages (French). But let’s stay focused. For a mere €12, I signed up for a year-long ISL (Italian as a Second Language) class. Or is that ITL for me?
Continue reading Italian for People Who Can’t Legge Bene →

Italian-Style Cultural Immersion

culture, , , , , ,

For good measure, I tried to find other sources of Italian media and incorporated them into my daily life. The following is a list of resources for anyone who wants to learn more about Italian culture:

  1. Blogs: The Transparent Language Italian blog is an invaluable resource in learning the intricacies of Italian grammar, and includes insider details on holidays and volcanic dust in Italy. I particularly love this post on commonly used gestures in Italy. Since I am gearing up to study food, I also follow some Italian food blogs written partially in English, including Dulcis in Furno and Briciole.
  2. Newspaper: La Repubblica, based in Rome and the second most circulated newspaper in Italy. Scan the news and see if you can figure out what’s happening in the US. If all else fails, resort to Google Translate.
  3. Movies: I sat through a number of pretty terrible Italian movies until I wised up and began asking for recommendations instead of choosing randomly. Oscar-winners Life is Beautiful and Nuovo Cinema Paradiso are obvious choices. For a change of pace from sad-violin dramas, La Sconosciuta (The Unknown Woman) is a fast-paced (by Italian standards) psychological thriller. And in the canon of classic Italian film, you cannot ignore the contributions of Vittorio De Sica and Frederico Fellini. I watched De Sica’s Ladri di Biciclette (Bicycle Thieves) and Il Giardino dei Finzi-Contini (The Garden of the Finzi-Continis), which are both set in periods around World War 2. Fellini’s work is interesting because it moves over time from neorealism to somewhat uh quirkier art films over time. While I enjoyed La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2, I found his later work to be a a bit more…eccentric. Amacord follows the life and ongoings of a small town in Fascist Italy (I found the lack of centralized plot off-putting), and E la Nave Va (And the Ship Sails On) portrays a luxury cruise ship carrying a love-sick rhinoceros and the friends of a deceased opera singer, as they travel to bury her at sea. Yeah. Watch at your own risk.
  4. Books: For a glimpse into contemporary Italian living, I recommend Tim Parks’ Italian Neighbors. It does for small town Italian living what Adam Gopnik’s Paris to the Moon did for the City of Light. The novel follows a British expat who moves to Italy and gradually acquaints himself to the intricacies of wine-making, combative neighbors, and the proper techniques for bribing bureaucrats. I laughed out loud on many occasions.
  5. Music: There is a lot of Europop out there, and they also listen to a lot of American tunes, but I was much more interested in quality music, preferably spoken at a comprehensible rate (not so much rap). Jovanotti is an Italian singer-songwriter who blends the Italian Cantautore tradition with funk, rap and other world influences. I was floored by the beauty of “Fango” (Mud). The chorus includes the line “Io lo so che non sono solo/ anche quando sono solo,” or “I know that I am not alone / even when I am alone.”

Italian-Style Cultural Immersion

culture, , , , , ,

For good measure, I tried to find other sources of Italian media and incorporated them into my daily life. The following is a list of resources for anyone who wants to learn more about Italian culture:

  1. Blogs: The Transparent Language Italian blog is an invaluable resource in learning the intricacies of Italian grammar, and includes insider details on holidays and volcanic dust in Italy. I particularly love this post on commonly used gestures in Italy. Since I am gearing up to study food, I also follow some Italian food blogs written partially in English, including Dulcis in Furno and Briciole.
  2. Newspaper: La Repubblica, based in Rome and the second most circulated newspaper in Italy. Scan the news and see if you can figure out what’s happening in the US. If all else fails, resort to Google Translate.
  3. Movies: I sat through a number of pretty terrible Italian movies until I wised up and began asking for recommendations instead of choosing randomly. Oscar-winners Life is Beautiful and Nuovo Cinema Paradiso are obvious choices. For a change of pace from sad-violin dramas, La Sconosciuta (The Unknown Woman) is a fast-paced (by Italian standards) psychological thriller. And in the canon of classic Italian film, you cannot ignore the contributions of Vittorio De Sica and Frederico Fellini. I watched De Sica’s Ladri di Biciclette (Bicycle Thieves) and Il Giardino dei Finzi-Contini (The Garden of the Finzi-Continis), which are both set in periods around World War 2. Fellini’s work is interesting because it moves over time from neorealism to somewhat uh quirkier art films over time. While I enjoyed La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2, I found his later work to be a a bit more…eccentric. Amacord follows the life and ongoings of a small town in Fascist Italy (I found the lack of centralized plot off-putting), and E la Nave Va (And the Ship Sails On) portrays a luxury cruise ship carrying a love-sick rhinoceros and the friends of a deceased opera singer, as they travel to bury her at sea. Yeah. Watch at your own risk.
  4. Books: For a glimpse into contemporary Italian living, I recommend Tim Parks’ Italian Neighbors. It does for small town Italian living what Adam Gopnik’s Paris to the Moon did for the City of Light. The novel follows a British expat who moves to Italy and gradually acquaints himself to the intricacies of wine-making, combative neighbors, and the proper techniques for bribing bureaucrats. I laughed out loud on many occasions.
  5. Music: There is a lot of Europop out there, and they also listen to a lot of American tunes, but I was much more interested in quality music, preferably spoken at a comprehensible rate (not so much rap). Jovanotti is an Italian singer-songwriter who blends the Italian Cantautore tradition with funk, rap and other world influences. I was floored by the beauty of “Fango” (Mud). The chorus includes the line “Io lo so che non sono solo/ anche quando sono solo,” or “I know that I am not alone / even when I am alone.”