I should be at work right now, but I’ve taken the day off. A rather expensive day off, one I can’t afford at the moment. But when you wake up and you can’t speak, and your work is at a call center, I think the universe is trying to tell you something.
I’ve never been to a place so soul-tearing and mentally exhausting that a little piece of my conscience dies every time I log in at work. Call center. A pretty straightforward idea of what’s it for but such a dark, twisted and emotionally draining place.
I’d like to compare it to a mental hospital. You know, the ones in movies with the white rooms with padded walls and a chair. Like those, except we have phones and our demons aren’t within us, but on the other side of the call.
What I do is pretty easy. Customer service for a credit card processing company. People call, they want to know what we charge them, change info, or perhaps get info from us. I am naturally inclined to want to help people (something with dad abandoning me and thus having the need of approval) but I am sincerely upset when people are just being a jerk for the sake of being a jerk. Sighs.
And that’s just the people who call, what about the people who work there. I try not to fall in stereotypes but, well what can I say. There is some really weird people. I’m not normal I know that, but I’m talking wtf weird. Nonetheless there’s some really nice people there, I’ve actually grown fond to some of them.
I may understand rationally the purpose of me having this job, I may even have this all planned out well but it is so frustrating siting down for hours at once and just do the most menial and pathetic of intellectual jobs. But mostly is the feeling that I’m not moving forward. I mean I am taking the cooking classes but is that really taking me anywhere?
There’s nothing more dangerous than leaving someone to their thoughts only.
I haven’t written at all for about a month. Between a lot going on during the week and my computer not working like a portable computer I find it hard to even want to write.
So I began a cooking class on the end of July. How to describe it… first two classes I wanted to kill myself for having enrolled in such an idiocy.
Then I took a different approach to class. I’d take the useful information that I could use and then I’d get home and read that subject’s chapter in the Cia’s The Professional Chef.
This turned out to be a better method while coping with mediocrity. So far we’ve covered in class vegetables cuts (barely), stocks, soups and cremes. Ah and how to debone a chicken. Stocks and cremes was fun, I got to do a fish stock and a shrimp bisque that was incredibly tasty.
Bisque in the making
They were some squash soup, green beans and mint and vichyssoise. It was all very meh. Nothing mindblowing, like I had expected, nothing exciting.
On another note I made a chicken breast filled with basil pesto and mozzarella yesterday for lunch. Recipe here. It turned out pretty neat, except just a little dry. I ought to try that again.
I know this post is all over the place, so am I. Hopefully I’l have better things to say next week.
Why would anyone in the right mind make soup when the temperature is 93F (33C for all others)?
I had stuck in my head that I wanted butternut squash soup with creme fraiche. After about 2+ hours I had something that looked like soup. It was liquid at least. It was somewhat of a disaster. I’m going to blame it on the butternut squash. Evil squash I tell you.
Sunday. The day of the sun, indeed.
My family had schedule a day at the beach (not precisely, we have a beach house) so I had woken up rather early because I wanted pancakes for breakfast. This turned out delicious.
I felt awkward with the plating
Somewhere around nine we left to the beach and as soon as I got there I was asked to clean the churrasco. Cool, except I didn’t bring my knives.
Shitty job cleaning it
Then I was of to the the pool and beer while the grill was heating up.
Vacio, pikaña, churrasco and some different kinds of sausages. I was far too hungry to take pic of the actual meat. Or the coleslaw and rice. It was delicious though 🙂
I’ve been really fixed on baking a decent loaf of bread, and I’ve failed with flying colours each time.
Not so bad, a little pale.
This weekend I tried baking a baguette again. This time it was actually eatable, but rather wet on the inside. Here’s the video that I used. I think the problem was deflating the dough after proofing. I shall continue to seek better ways to make an actually baguette. Suggestions are indeed welcome.
On sunday I had to bake something and make it work. So after a while I decide to try breakfast butter buns. I used this website.
Strange looking buns
This one actually worked…. sort of. It’s all weighted to the gram, and I did but the dough was far too sticky to be worked properly so I added more flour until I could knead it. Other than that, I had no inconveniences. On hindsight, I’d bake it on a tray, so they maintain their cute roundness. It must be said that right out of the oven, they’re heavenly. Next day, they’re still good but rather on the dry side.
And finally on a more successful bread-baking experience a friend baked some bread for me. It’s a white loaf bread, with cheese and garlic. How can something with cheese and garlic be any bad? And I was far from being disappointed.
The bread had a nice crisp crust and its soft and spongy on the inside. It had a several minutes out of the oven when I tried it, still warm, and it was delicious. I was mostly surprised that by the looks of it, I thought it was going to be somewhat dry, but on the contrary it was the correct amount of moist. That airy and spongy texture. It was a happy surprise that on the second day, the garlic flavour is even more intense than before. All in all I liked the bread very much. It’d be perfect for a cheese and charcuterie tray, like jamon serrano, salami, pâtés, Vincent, Swiss… and a bottle of red.
I find it quite entertaining how some items get so unbelievably famous they are prostituted for the masses. I remember a couple of years ago how very low profile macarons were (at least in my caribbean society). But over night everyone is mispronouncing the name, they’re everywhere, people “know” everything about it and are the must have item at any coffee meet. Please.
Nonetheless, I’ve always like them but found that making them was far too tedious and skill required to do so. A couple of months ago I came across a hazelnut recipe and I HAD to try it. I failed with flying colors. Many things went wrong and I decided I needed space to try again.
Yesterday I wanted to take on the challenge. A couple of things didn’t work, and I’ll probably won’t be using that same recipe again but they were certainly closer to the original product than the first try. Here’s the recipe. Personally I didn’t like the buttercream it was far to buttery flavoured. And the 16 minutes at 375c (with double sheets) led the macarons to burt and become like crunchy dry.
Although they did look good. 🙂
They looked pretty at least
I just finished reading this article from eater.com and its just a must read for anyone who’s interested in Culinary school.
Its long, although I prefer detailed, but definitely worth it.
I’ve been out these past weeks due to reasons beyond my control. Like Murphy’s law, when something can go wrong, it will most definitely go wrong. And escalate to more wrongness in the process.