The chefs had told us that we were not allowed to ask them any questions as we moved through our tasks for this spectacularly busy day. Instead of helping us and critiquing as we went, per usual, instead they watched us with intense, piercing eyes, mentally tallying each and every mistake. I’ve often prided myself for being able to perform well under pressure, but once I felt one of the chef’s eyes on me as I was leveling the beam balance scale before measuring flour, and I freaked. This small task that I’ve done a million times without even thinking about it suddenly eluded me completely. I’m sure that chef was blown away by my incompetence as he watched me fumble and fail about ten times.





Somehow our team pulled through the day, and we finished up by examining our handiwork, which was overflowing off of the floor to ceiling cooling racks. When the chefs called our team over to debrief, I expected that I’d be shamed for the countless silly mistakes that they’d been check, check, checking all day long, but instead they made positive remarks about the shape, crumb, and score of our finished products and our ability to work as an efficient team. In cooking school no one ever says “good job”, but this is the closest I’ve come so I’ll take it and continue the futile toil to win the approval of these chefs for whom I have nothing but respect.





With two weeks down, I’m sad to say goodbye to the French unit, although we will still be baking boudelais and baguettes for the restaurant each day. After the test I went home, got off my feet, and took stock of my mental drain, my physical exhaustion, and the rainbow of colorful bruises decorating my forearms. None of these things matter to me in the slightest. I’m having the time of my life at bread school, but with two weeks down, I need to work on the balance of the other parts of my life – the ones where I do part-time marketing work, cook balanced meals, exercise, spend QT with my man, and return phone calls. The bread I am making is ridiculously good, but that is no excuse to eat it for every single meal. It’s the height of the market season, and time for me to assert some balance, or have to buy new pants (and I really don’t want it to come to that).


It’s time to get back into a more healthy meal routine and I’m starting with this delicious, crisp, beautiful, and flavorful slaw. It’s a fun way to use jicama, which I found at Whole Foods (and then later saw at the corner fruit and veg stand for so much less money), and with a nice balance of sweet, savory and crunch, it is a perfect, light and satisfying companion for grilled veggies, fish, or meat. This recipe yields a ton – easily enough to feed 6-8 people as a side, and it kept well for several days in the fridge. Don’t be like me – remember to buy the carrots when you are picking up supplies for the slaw – I suspect they will only improve something that is already very tasty.


Jicama Slaw
Adapted from Epicurious, 2004

For the dressing:

1/2 cup fresh lime juice

2 tablespoons rice vinegar

2 tablespoons ancho chile powder

2 tablespoons honey

1/2 cup mild vegetable oil, such as canola

Salt and freshly ground pepper
For the slaw:

1 (2-pound) jicama, peeled and cut into matchsticks (I used a mandolin)

1/2 head napa cabbage, cored and shredded

2 carrots, coarsely grated (I did not include carrots, simply because I forgot to buy them. I would definitely use them next time)

1/4 cup finely chopped fresh cilantro leaves

I’ve been busy climbing the walls, working through what are hopefully the last days of cubicle occupation for the rest of my life. No matter how much I’ve loved or hated the work I’ve done while parked in my cell in various, non-descript office buildings, The thing I will miss least about corporate life is the constant sitting. 

But the thing I will miss most are the friendships that come when you are lucky enough to work with people with whom you instantly click. And while I do not doubt that I will still make friends while at cooking school and in the places I go beyond, I’m not sure that anything bonds new friends so quickly as sitting two feet away from them for most of your waking hours, each and every week. Their trials become your trials. The stuff going on in their personal lives becomes your daily dialogue, as you travel from desk to conference room to the deli down on the corner, to, thankfully, happy hour.

I consider myself quite lucky that at every job I’ve had, with the exception of one (guess why I didn’t last there for very long?) I’ve made great, dear friends for life.

A few weeks ago, as I mentioned a few posts back, Brian and I were lucky enough to be invited to one such friend’s house upstate for a weekend of precious sun and delicious eating, thanks to the trifecta of amazing chefs in her inner-circle. On our last day there, as we savored every sunbeam that we could before heading back to monsoon city, and her brother prepared a simple, crisp slaw made from fresh snap peas, with a spicy-sweet dressing. I went back for seconds and thirds.

I spent a lot of time that weekend asking , “oh my god, what’s in this?”, to the point that I was annoying everyone, but somehow I never asked for this recipe. Then I started craving it with the appearance of snap peas at the green market, and was left to my own devices to cook it from memory. I know that I’m missing something in the chili department, my impulse was to use the less homogenous, sweet Thai chili sauce, but I was out and compensated with Sriracha instead. The results were delicious, a little sweet, a little acidic, quite spicy, and big on crunch.

Spicy Snap Pea Slaw

1 lb. fresh snap peas, washed, with the stems snapped off

3 green onions

1/4 cup rice vinegar

4 tablespoons grapeseed oil, or another light oil

1 lime, juiced

2 tablespoons light brown sugar

Sriracha, to taste

sea salt, to taste

Chop the snap peas lengthwise into thin strips, at a slight angle. Chop the green onions into thin rounds, and mix with the snap peas in a large bowl. 

In a separate bowl, combine the rice vinegar, oil, lime juice and brown sugar. Whisk with a fork until the sugar is dissolved. Add the sriracha, a little at a time, until you reach desired level of taste and heat (I used three tablespoons and it was quite spicy). Toss the dressing with the veggies. Add salt to taste and serve immediately. Store leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge, they were still tasty the next day.