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01 A Tour of the California Culinary Academy: First Impressions of a Prospective StudentThursday, March 11, 2004 A mere 36 hours after I’d been slumped over a keyboard, drearily contemplating forty more years of writing software documentation that no one would actually ever read, I found myself striding purposefully down Polk Street towards the California Culinary Academy. It was the first real day of Spring – women had pulled their sandals out from the backs of their closets, and men were wearing Aloha shirts to work – and I was experiencing the jitters one feels when about to embark on a whole new undertaking. In many ways, it was like the first day of Spring for my career aspirations – I dream of leaving my job in the software industry and becoming a chef! I had arranged a tour of the CCA campus after stumbling across their website during a long afternoon at work. I submitted an online request for more information and then quickly forgot about it – I didn’t seriously believe that I could go to cooking school without giving up my job and much of my financial freedom. My fears were quickly allayed when an admissions representative called me on my way home from work that night. He explained that in addition to morning and afternoon sessions, the CCA also offered an evening session from 6 to 11 PM every weeknight. I could attend cooking school without having to give up my job and the steady paycheck it provides. A whole world of possibilities opened up before me: now it was no longer a question of whether going to cooking school was logistically feasible, but whether it was something that I actually wanted to try. I scheduled an interview and tour of the campus and started thinking about what it might be like to have a job that I really loved. I invited Andrew, my best friend, roommate, and the love of my life, to join me on my tour of the campus. I wanted him to come since his life would also be dramatically affected by my taking a year at cooking school – not only would we hardly see one another during the week, but we were also going to have to pay for a large part of my tuition with savings that we’d earmarked for a down payment on a house. Andrew has dreamed of owning a piece of property since before we ever met, so I wanted him to feel okay about putting off his dream in order to make mine a reality. We checked in for our tour in the Culinary Academy’s Administration building, a separate set of offices across the street from the main restaurant and classroom facility. Even in this relatively quiet office building, we could tell we were getting involved with cuisine: cooking paraphernalia dominated the décor of the waiting room. Not only did the display cases show the full contents of a student’s set of supplies (including over a dozen sizes of pastry cutters, three types of metal spatulas, and a full set of knives) but cooking utensils were also integrated into the furniture – a colander made a whimsical lamp shade, and spoons doubled as cabinet knobs. Garth, our tour guide and admissions representative, brought us into his office for a quick interview before giving us the tour. He explained that he needed to use this time to get to know me better, since he would be responsible for presenting me to the admissions committee if I were to apply to the Academy. Based on several of his questions, it seemed like the CCA was primarily concerned with whether or not I would be able to finish the program and graduate. Garth explained that many applicants come from non-traditional backgrounds where schooling is not a high priority, and that many had never attended college. It made me curious about what my future classmates would be like – I’ve had little experience with people who did not at least have plans of going to college, and I wondered what they’d be like as classmates and study partners. Would having less educational background affect their performance in cooking school, or would we all be on equal ground once we got into the kitchen? How much of an edge was my educational background going to give me compared to students just out of high school? I found it interesting that Garth himself had plans to enroll in the Academy. He moved to San Francisco originally to study at the CCA and become a chef, but put it off when his wife became pregnant. He continues to work in the admissions department, interviewing and admitting academy students who may eventually become his own classmates. After our interview was over, Garth led us across the street to the main academic building. On the way, we passed a few students who were taking a smoking break on the sidewalk – each was easily identified by the checkered pants, white chefs jacket, and jaunty scull cap that’s part of the official student uniform. Seeing them, I suddenly felt like an incoming high school freshman, nervously eyeing the upperclassmen. They appeared very wise, very experienced, and I was certain that all of them were already far better cooks than I’d ever be. Fortunately, my lapse in self-confidence only lasted for a moment -- I was soon too caught up in the excitement of my tour to remember any feelings of intimidation. Inside the bustling main building students were running around the hallways in all directions, and glorious smells permeated the air. A woman with brown stuff smeared all over her chef’s jacket hurridly joined us in the elevator with two or three other students. “Pastry class?” Garth asked. “Chocolate,” she said, giving us a wink. I felt giddy. Our first stop was “Cooking of the Americas,” a class that students take midway through the 15 months that it takes to complete the Culinary Arts program. We crept in the classroom and quickly moved up into the stadium-style desk seats so that we could more safely observe the controlled chaos we saw below us in the kitchen. About 20 students were scrambling about, each with a set task, and all operating together in a tumultuous symphony of movement. Three students walked in with large trays of quesadillas, dramatically browned to crispy perfection. Another man sautéed what appeared to be several pounds of vegetables at the stove. An older woman washed dishes in a corner sink, and two other students were carefully cleaning, sharpening, and putting away their knives. No one seemed to stay in the same place for more than a few seconds. On the chalkboard behind the madness a six-course Mexican menu was posted: chicken quesadillas with queso fresco and roasted bell peppers, pork-stuffed enchiladas, Spanish rice, tomatillo salsa, pulled pork and chicken mole rounded out the set of dishes. Garth explained to us that these students would eat what they’d prepared at the end of the class, and that tomorrow they’d tackle a whole different region of North or South America. When their three-week class was over, they’d move on to Asian, and then European cuisines as well. Escaping that class, we moved on to the pastries kitchen, a room that smelled of warm butter and vanilla. Again, it was all we could do to avoid the students who were busily running in all directions, filling the room with shouts and quick movements. The bustling activity was in stark contrast to the light clouds of flour that seemed to lazily hang above everyone’s head, biding its time by swirling around the air until it could finally settle down later that night. I had a hard time imagining how there could be order to the tumult I was seeing around me, though I knew it all must be a finely tuned machine. We moved on. Our next stop was the library, where we could escape the noise and commotion of the kitchens and hallways and surround ourselves with books. Several students were studying in full chef’s uniform (a requirement for use of the library), and I was delighted to see aisles and aisles of cookbooks and cooking magazines. Andrew pulled down a dozen handouts from various bins, each describing the readings that were most appropriate for a particular class, and we also examined the school newsletter. It contained student-written restaurant reviews, and advertisements for sessions on time management and study skills. I worried that between work and classes, I wouldn’t have time to fully take advantage of all the material that was in this room. Across the hall from the library, Garth next showed us the postings for school clubs and externships. I was tickled to think I’d have another chance to sit on a student council, or run for student government. I also quickly decided that I’d join the wine tasting club my first day on campus. The externship bulletin board contained postings from top restaurants in the Bay Area, including Gary Danko, Aqua, and Chez Panisse. Garth explained that every student must fulfill a three-month externship at a highly-rated restaurant, bakery, or other culinary outfit before graduation. I excitedly noted that if I chose, I could work only a few blocks from my apartment, at the Tartine Bakery in the Mission. A thousand different career paths stretched out before me, all making my mouth water in anticipation – or was that only because it was lunchtime? After passing through the school cafeteria (run by students, of course!), Garth led us into the grand Careme room, where a gourmet buffet lunch was being held for the public. For $38 we might have eaten there as well, but as it was we could only walk by the tables loaded with exquisitely prepared finger foods and drool. Advanced students proudly stood behind their beautiful trays of sushi and pastries, waiting to answer questions from hungry patrons loading their plates. In the back of the room, a red-lit kitchen housed all of the meats that had been prepared for lunch, including duck, lamb, and finely grilled fillets of halibut. Rose petals decorated the unused serving trays, and I knew – KNEW – that I wanted nothing more than to learn how to cook the foods that were on display throughout the room. I made my decision to attend the California Culinary Academy while
standing in the middle of the Careme room during that lunchtime buffet.
The opportunities that I saw for myself in those hallways made it clear
that it was the right decision. With a degree from the CCA I can be
a chef at any number of fine restaurants, I can open my own place or
cater events, I can teach cooking, or I can write about food professionally.
Even if I never end up cooking for anyone other than my family, I know
that it will all be worth it for the joy I can share with others in
the food I create. I love to cook, and I’ve found a chance to
express this passion as a career choice. I can’t wait. |
You can find out more about the California Culinary Academy by visiting their website at www.baychef.com. The Careme Room
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| Copyright © 2004 Caroline Carter |
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