After many sleepless nights, finals came, went, but I certainly didn’t conquer them. But, I finished. I managed to complete the “Green Eggs and Ham” egg starter I created along with a dossier to explain the dish, methodology and several essays about French cooking/what I have learned, etc. The starter had to include a number of items demonstrating technique including a white mushroom duxelle, turned artichokes, a Parmesan broth, and four “perfect eggs”. I also finished two servings of Paul Bocuse’s sea bass recipe made by filleting a sea bass, skinning it, and replacing the scales with 1 mm thick tiny circles of potatoes to create new “scales.” It is served with (more!) turned artichokes, an orange and cardamom beurre blanc, and a pointless tomato and cilantro salad, just to give us something else to do during our exam.
I am not going to lie – this was NOT my finest day in the kitchen. I was just happy I finished on time as you lose a point for every minute either dish is late. I started at 8:50 am – we had staggered start times so the tasting judges had some time in between each of the submitted recipes. My two “perfect egg” starters were due at 12:50pm, and two of the seabass entrees were due exactly thirty minutes later.
None of these dishes was particularly challenging – it’s all about the timing and planning. Given my OCD proclivities, this is usually not a problem for me. I was just off, suffering from low energy, sleep deprivation and nerves. I was also bummed my buddy, Adit, would not be able to take the final due to medical issues, which I found out about just before the exam.
I cried when I finally looked-up my final grade. I sobbed much later in the middle of the night as I was perseverating over the realization that I was an utter and complete failure and that the last nine months of my life were a complete waste of time and money. Overall, I knew did well my last semester, but I was just so disappointed in myself as I REALLY tried to do well on the final practical and failed. Epically.
I finally fell back asleep during some wee hour of the night and when I woke-up with bleary eyes and tears dried on my cheeks, I conjured up life lesson number 1,012.
One bad day doesn’t define you. There is nothing wrong with failing if you really gave it your all. I know I did, and that’s a new “win” for me.
