Slices Of Life...

Today my baby turns 9 years old.  In the blink of an eye.  It has always been my tradition to write a loving tribute in this forum to each of my children on their birthdays...and as much as I love to share, more and more I feel like they are getting to an age where their lives and moments and questions and dreams and hopes and assertions should be theirs to share... I think they are ready for me to let my birthday love notes over the past four years stand as is, to look back on and speak to who they are and what they have meant to me...and how they have all made me even more who I am than I could have been on my own.  They are amazing children...I cannot believe I have been blessed by their presence in my life...

Of course, he is a youngest child and I think he deserves some special props on this 9th anniversary of his touch and go birth...so.... Will is awesome in so many different ways....he totally gets and then laughs like a maniac at my sarcastic jabs, as I do his superior wit and timing...he is seriously one of the funniest people I know, big or small...and he notices every little nuance and detail in a comment, a situation, a structure...and he shares his impressions as such. I look at him and he still seems to be my little one, my baby boy...but day after day he is growing to be such a thoughtful, wise, brave and multi-faceted person with interesting opinions and points-of-view... He feels deeply and is endlessly open-hearted....he still tears up when one of his siblings is in trouble or hurt or sad. Will is resolute in his opinions and absolute in his commitment to being whatever and whomever he wants to be, and he sees no obstacles...he wants it? he's going to get it... He's is exactly the person I have always wished I could be....And I secretly think it's possible that somehow those Brit rock geniuses, The Sweet, must have known back in the 70's that this child would be upon us one day when they wrote: "Willy sends them silly with his star-shine shimmy shuffle smile..."  He does!

I am just thrilled to be able to share in his life, let alone be his mother on top of that.  Blessed and lucky.  Happy Birthday, Will! My sweet little darling...

So now...on to new business...

I walked into the kitchen/classroom my first day of culinary school this Saturday....all jazzed up in my apron, oversized white chef's coat and gigantic chef's pants that TJ had to safety-pin hem for me the evening prior...I had on my black Buster Brown-like orthopedic, professional kitchen shoes and my long locks braided and pushed up under a white skull-cap type chef's hat that is reserved for the professional kitchen's lowest men on the totem pole: cooks in training...and probably dishwashers too... That's ok...my ego is in the basement somewhere anyway after almost 20 years working in PR, so I am happy that at least in a kitchen, each worker's place is clearly defined...and if you don't know where you rank, then check out the height of your hat...

In any case...I wondered if I would be the oldest in the class and thankfully I was not...I mean, I am up there compared to the 20-somethings, a mix of cool guys and a young girl or two... And there are my two new boyfriends, both Latino guys from Queens...super sweetly offering to carry my chair and my 500 lb. bag of kitchen tools and doing all kinds of cute chivalrous boy things like holding my door, treating me just the way I hope my boys treat the women they work with someday...  Of course, maybe my two new boyfriends are actually helping me because they think I am old and fragile like a their moms or aunties or abuelitas are...but I choose to believe otherwise... There are also two girls my age, one with kids exactly the same ages as mine...and the other a career-changer with a freaking MBA that got her nothing but the desire to be her own boss...and there's the standard bad joke telling guy in his late 50's who tried to tease me for being from NJ when in fact he is too...oh, yeah...haha...good one...clearly he's not from Bergen County, ok...

Anyway...before the chef-instructor, who is like a younger, more intimidating version of my beloved Gramps -- Germanic, straightforward, precise, super neat and tidy, and no patience for BS (e.g. late 50's guy's poorly timed jokes) -- before he took the room, we had a mini orientation with the Dean of Students, who reviewed the rules of the kitchen with us, on which we had to sign-off...and I thought, no problem, I can do this...I can stay clean and be prompt and respectful and answer "yes, Chef" to every question no matter what it is...and ok, if I have to keep polish off my nails, I can make that happen too... But wait...what does it say here in rule number 5?

Cursing or aggressive language will not be tolerated. The kitchen is a serious place of business, this behavior is unprofessional and Chef will have you removed from the kitchen should your language and manner present as such. 

And all I could think was:  "Oh f**k, motherf**ker, I am totally f**ked!"

No, really...I mean, I love expressive language...not that it's appropriate in all venues, and I am a seasoned professional with manners and decorum in my forum... But let's be honest...we all get frustrated...we all let it slip when we shouldn't...I mean, truthfully, my kids don't even look up anymore when they hear it...oops...bad mom!  But back to the kitchen....what if I start a fire in the convection oven or forget to prepare a day's worth of mise en place or totally f**k up (see there I go!) an entire lesson by burning the Beef Wellington... I have to admit, remembering not to scream  "Sh**!" from the depths of my soul is going to be a tough one...or so I thought....

You see, the second day we began knife work...and I have been cooking since I was a young teenager...I know what I am doing...I know how to to chop and dice and hold my knives...well, I thought I did, because not only do I have poor knife-holding habits, my carrot slicing and onion dicing were seriously lacking as a result...and Chef had to correct me, which made me feel like a dumb girl...and then 10 seconds later, my bad habits returned and I sliced a fifth of the way through my left thumb...and that may sound like a nick, but it was a slice...and I began to gush blood.  And by some divine intervention -- from my Gramps maybe?? nah, he loved cursing... -- by the grace of whatever celestial spirit was watching over me, nary an expletive escaped my lips...I didn't even think one.  I was too scared Chef would consider me was a complete f**k up (see!)...instead, right after he had me sanitize my knives and work space, he acted like my Gramps once again and dressed the wound and covered it with one of those rubber finger covers that, sorry, look like mini-c*ndoms...and I learned my lesson.  There will be mistakes along the way, I guess...but at least I didn't chop off my entire thumb...like my Gramps did way back in the day...and I bet he didn't hold back the string of F-bombs that surely followed that debacle... See why he was my idol?

So...with sliced up thumb and complete exhaustion in tow, I think we are off to a good start...because you know, aside from sharing moments with the ones I love, I am never quite so happy as I am when I'm in the kitchen. A bloody thumb and ugly shoes and no nail polish and a bruised ego...even quelling my expressive language is worth being able to spend even just a small part of my life in the kitchen...

Oh yeah, and by the way, the next three items Chef had us chop I was certain to take caution and be super precise...and Chef said "Very good, Suzanne..." ...which might as well have been a marriage proposal coming from him...yay me!

Star pupil in the making?!  You know it, b**ches!!
... (told you...I can't help it!!)...

xoxo, Suz

PS  A Happy Birthday to the other Leo in my life, big sis Cathleen...who still considers Will her very own special birthday present...ok, we can share... Love you!

Photos:
1.  Look at that little darling at age 3 in 2006...an LBI birthday, cake by me, via Duncan Hines...
2.  Awesome, perfect, beautiful...in 2007 in Barnegat Light, NJ...
3.  How I still see him...
4.  Hot as hell, right?  Come on now, try not to lick the screen...
5.  Not my Gramps or my Chef...but he seems cool too...
6.  I think up new curses sometimes to fill the void, honestly...
7.  My pretty, butchered, and c*ndom covered thumb...photographed by Tim on the Westside Highway...
8.  Much better on the medium dice now that I am holding my knife correctly...only took me 25 years!