sunday

It's July now. I'm sitting on the floor writing this, the table is no longer here because it's gonna be used for feeding tons of people downstairs for our 4th of July celebration. I think we're about to eat very, very well...

I stayed in Colorno this weekend, and it was extremely nice to have a slow couple of days. Sun, sleep, friends. The heat has been thick and humid, and last night we simply sat outside in front of the castle that is our school, amongst many other families and groups of people, little kids running wild, and us drinking wine and watching the river flow by.

In class we've been focusing on food from Sardinia. We made ravioli filled with a semi-soft cow's milk cheese and a little bit of lemon and orange zest. We then fried the ravioli golden, and drizzled the final product with a slightly bitter Sardinian honey. The savory oozing cheese worked well with the contrasting yet complimentary flavors of the honey and zest.

Our chef de-boned an entire lamb for us the other day, leaving the meat completely intact. It was interesting to see this done after just having de-boned a whole rabbit ourselves a few days earlier. All the body parts were basically the same, just bigger on the lamb.

I've been thinking a lot about the way we carry ourselves as cooks, and the way we are taught to carry ourselves as cooks. Uniforms must always be ironed and pressed. The men can't have stubble. We are trained implicitly to carry our heads high, to exude confidence, and to embody skill and professionalism. Now, my uniform may not always be completely free of wrinkles (perhaps it rarely is), but I like this way of thinking, and I like this way of carrying myself. We are skilled. We are professionals.