Make it happen

Make it happen.

This is what Chef Jesse Yoh from Happy in Boulder said to me during class. This resonated with me far beyond what it means in the kitchen. In the kitchen, you are required to come up with cool ways to bring butts into your restaurant's seats. You want to create awesome meals that will wow them and have them drooling over their next experience with your food. It doesn't matter what it takes. You do what it takes to make it happen.

However, the shiny, finished product looks so flawless and so impressive that it is virtually impossible to see beyond the "perfection". You are presented with the end product. You have no idea what it actually took to make it happen. You don't know what tears were shed, what fears were faced, or what triumphs were experienced.

A torte with Jaconde (almond cake), coffee buttercream, chocolate ganache, and some good, old fashioned ice cream on the side. The final product looks incredible. There are layers of texture from the soft cake, the thick ganache, an the creamy buttercream. There are layers of texture from the almond, the bittersweet chocolate, and the coffee. A better dessert has never made its way into our kitchen.

That cake, with its small (but mighty) layers of buttercream can never begin to tell you about the struggles that went into making the coffee buttercream. I was assigned the task of making the buttercream from start to finish. I started with simmering ground coffee in milk. The milk was strained and cooked with egg yolks and sugar. This was cooked down until a nice custard was made. This was then whipped around in a mixer until cooled. Then LOTS and LOTS of butter was thrown in.

I struggled with cracking the eggs. I had to separate 16 eggs to get the egg yolks. It was messy. Some yolks decided to break. But I managed to salvage every, single one.

I struggled with straining the milk from the coffee grounds. I was sure that we didn't have enough liquid to make it work. Chef assured me to keep going. Make it work. So I did.

I struggled with people being annoyed that there were still utensils, containers, etc. on my station. Buttercream takes a while, people. Be patient.

And I struggled with the anticipation of throwing the butter in piece by piece. 42 ounces of butter were used. I thought surely the buttercream was going to break. Surely, there would be lumps of butter throughout. Surely the buttercream would break, fail and then I would have spent nearly a whole class creating product that was useless.

Then I celebrated. The buttercream came out fine. People tasted it. They love it. I love it. Happy Astrid.

The buttercream played its part beautfully in the assembly of this torte. But the torte is much more than just the small layers of buttercream. Yet that layer tells such a rich story.

This bahn mi made with fresh baguettes, pork belly, and fresh pickles looks enticing on its own.

But at simply glancing, you do not see what it took to slice, cut, and create the pickles. You do not see the creaiton of the sriracha kewpie mayo. You do not see the pork belly being cooked. You do not see the individual shisho leaves being dressed and layed out on the sandwich. A work of love and labor. Every element of the sandwich tells a story.

The steamed bao buns stuffed with pork, long beans, and pickles, looks like a friendly litle sandwich. Small and sturdy enough to be picked up with your hand, who would ever guess that this treat would punch you in the face with flavor. The flavor of the pork butt, the spice and kick of the pickles, and the chewiness from the freshly steamed buns is all equally intoxicating.

If only more were ade. I could easily have eaten 3 or 4 of these. They were amazing. But each little sandwich could never tell you the effort it took to create the bao bun dough or the night of proofing it experienced. The pickles can never tell you the story of how they spent the night in a brining solution. An my taste buds? Well there are no words for how epically delicious these babies were.

Wok charred long beans. They are slightly burnt from being cooked in the wok. They are beautiful beans an hold such powerfully simple flavor. I kept getting portions of these beans. I love green things and with the rich breads and pork, they provided a great contrast an a nice clean element to the meal.

We all made this meal happen. Vermicelli noodles were cooked, dressed, and finished with delicious fish,

But gazing at the meal and even eating it, you do not see the cooking process. You do not see the girl waiting with her lime juice and sesame dressing to dress the shisho leaves and use them as the finishing element of the dish. A beautiful flower in the middle of a castle of noodles. Make it happen, Chef Jesse told me. And I made it happen.

I took in every new smell, every new taste, and every new skill.

I savored. I lived within the kitchen.

I made it happen. And boy, did it taste GOOD.

In the world beyond the kitchen, we are met with many finished products. We see books that have been published, we see successful coffee shops and the beauty of the latte art, and we see beautiful families laughing and enjoying a day together. We do not see the amount of times a book proposal was rejected. We do not see how the coffee shop struggle or the gallons of ilk the barista threw away before being able to create beautiful designs with espresso and milk foam. We do not see the sessions of fertility treatments, or the struggles that went into creating that family and actually putting together a day to enjoy together.

We see the final product. Because, somehow, somewhere, someone (or some people) found the strength and the ability to stick with it and they made it happen.

Fear

Fear. Something that you are irrationally afraid of. Yet fears can be much more limiting than that one, simple definition. Fears hold us back. Sometimes fears can keep us safe and in our own personal bubbles. Fear keeps us surviving, but does it help us in LIVING our lives?

During the second week of culinary school, I chopped the tip of my thumb off with a Japanese mandolin. Yesterday, guest Chef Jesse from Happy restaurant in Boulder handed me...you guessed it...a Japanese mandolin to use on some sweet potatoes. I panicked. People offered to slice up my sweet potatoes for me. What did I do? I almost cried. I got frustrated. Try as I may, I couldn't stop my arm and hand from shaking.

Thankfully, Chef came and showed me proper body position and how to find the "sweet spot" in the potato. If the potato doesn't glide right through the blae, back off. Oh, and Astrid, only go as far as you feel comfortable. Don't push the limits. Not yet.

So I cut my sweet potatoes. My hands are in tact. And I have faced my fear of mandolins.

This week is also about learning new things. A huge thing about fear, is the unknown. What is more unknown than trying something completely new?

We have a guest chef and are being exposed to Asian fusion. This means that nearly every, single item on the menu is something I have never worked with or eaten. I was so excited!! And you will see exactly why.

Quail eggs wrapped in bacon. Then grilled.

Money bags. Steamed spring rolls with a vegan filling. So that "special" people can feel special.

Have you ever seen quail eggs? So adorable! And on a stick wrapped in bacon? Yes, please. Please, please, please!!

Do you know...that BACON has all 5 amino acids. This creates some serious umami, and it is why bacon is so gloriously delicious. If I was to ever become a vegetarian, I would still eat bacon. I will be a baconaterian. Don't mess with my bacon.

My sweet potato shoe strings fried up. Yum.

Rice cakes. Something so simpe sitting on a lettuce leaf. It was calling me. I have to admit that I was not amused or enticed at all by this rice cake at first sight. I mean, a cake of sushi rice? Not very exciting. But this rice cake had a mirin soy glaze on it. Then it was grilled.

Crap. I was instantly defeated. Nerver, ever, judge something at first glance. It may surprise you It may be a bite of ultimate heaven. There were moans and complete silence around the table as we all enjoyed these rice cakes. I ate my entire serving and was in bliss. Rice was one of my favorite foods growing up. I am pretty sure that if I had ever discovered these cakes, I would not have eaten anything else. Ever. Seriously, I am still drooling over these as I look at the photo.

Dashi broth with the grilled bacon-wrapped quail eggs. Looks dainty, doesn't it?

These bites of salty bacon and simple egg were phenomenal. The bacon, although tnot crispy (the way I like my acon) was not chewy. It was tender bacon. Tender, salty bacon. I ate three of these. But if I ever find these at a party or BBQ, I will be parking myself right netx to the plate and making a meal of these alone.

Money bags with a thai basil puree, a poached egg, and the crispy sweet potatoes.

The greatest part of this dish. aside from the oozing egg yolk, was the two types of sweet potato present within the dish. Inside of the money bag were chunks of cooked sweet potatoes. Tender, soft, and sweet. Outside of the money bag were strips of crispy sweet potato. They worked to tie in all of the layers of this dish.

Lemongrass soup. A beautiful dessert soup. Served with a pineapple foam and a pineapple stick. Umm...one shot glass of this dessert was not enough for this girl. A taste of heaven. A beautiful taste of heaven.

Served alongside a siple ice cream made of heavy cream, condensed milk, and vanilla. To be honest, I was the only person in class that wasn't a big fan of the ice cream. Too rich for my taste. But the soup...I could have downed several shot glasses worth. Easily. Or just hand me a whole bowl of that stuff. With extra pineapple on the side.

New flavor profiles, new ingredients, new goals. This has been a BIG week for me so far.

Thanks for being here with me.

Simple, Sweet Life

Life is simple. Be aware, take everything in, breathe, smile, enjoy. Cry, if needed.

Take pride in that you are present within your very own present. Accept who you are and the things about you that ake you shine just a bit extra. When I smile, my eyes get very squinty. Especially if I am smiling and laughing at the same time.

But sometimes life doesn't always go as planned. Like the meal we prepared in school. The potatoes are a little extravagant. Definately banquet style. The pork is enormous and a bit intimidating. Then there are the asparagus spears which lay daintily alongside the two monsters. None of it goes together visually. Actually, it throws you off a bit.

Thankfully, there is always something in life that makes some sort of sense. Like this simple consomme we made and ate at school. It was simple, flavorful, and soothing. A perfect way to calm the taste buds and soothe the tummy at the same time.

And like in life, even the most intimidating parts have bits of sweetness. And they feel, and in this case, taste very delicious!

And there are moments that you anticipate to be bland and boring and then you are there...and that moment is anything but bland and boring. Like this potato. Uusually boring and dry, adding a pat of butter in the middle of this pomme dauphine makes it exquisite.

To end the meal and day on a wonderfully sweet note, here is a french crawler. Fried Pate au Choux with an orange sauce, orange segments, and some powdered sugar. It was so light, fluffy, and delightful. It reminded me of how it feels to enjoy a nice breathe of a hot, sunny day. You can't help but giggle to yourself as you stare at the clouds rolling by.

You lose yourself in that moment. It couldn't taste or feel any sweeter.

Getting Real and Running Free

It is time for a personal post.

RECOVERY is an extremey loaded word for so many of us. So much more of a journey than the direct path we all thought it would be. Yet, keeping up the fight and clearing new paths is necessary if you want to ever be "free". Beneath all of the layers of crap that we throw on ourselves, our minds, our presents and futures, is some pure and simple...our heart, our essence, who we are. Let that come out.

Here is what each letter of the word means to me, especially today. Enjoy.

R. Running around simmingly in circles. I often feel like I am on a race track. Sometimes I am "winning", I am ahead. And I believe that I have traveled so far away from my affliction. However, the next thing I know, there is the checkered flag waving once again. I am right back where I started. Only this time the tire treads are more worn away. The gas in the tank is lower. I am worn.

E. Endurance is important in this "game". As tired as I am of fighting, when I don't fight it, I get even more tired. My brain is slower. My body aches, and not in the "I just worked out new muscles" way. In the, "I can't believe you are expecting me to move" way. No matter how tired I get of fighting, I still have the dnurance to fight and fight and fight. You can loo at the pillow on my floor and notice the lumps and unevenness from the pummeling it recently too. Don't underestatement "tiny Astrid". She can beat the crap out a pillow and out of ANYTHING. Just try me.

C. Consistency is necessary in my life from time to time. As with a little kid or with a new puppy, who functin best with scheduled ood, activity, attention, etc, I, too, work very well with this type of consistency. Right now, I need a workable schedule of activity, work, food, phone calls, writing, meditation.

O. Owning up to my own responsibility to kick my habit. It isn't up to anyone else to stop me from harming myself. It is up to me. Of course, this doesn't mean that I will not be asking for help. The troops having been alerted and they are on board with my efforts to save my own life.

V. Vitality is something I experience when I am at my healthiest. When I am mentally content and accepting of where I am in life. When I am eating well, exercising in a mindful and (semi) gentle way. When I am full of vitality, the little things make me so excited. I actually look forward to and enjoy things more often than I allow them to annoy me.

E. Evolution. Each time that I put my two feet and ten toes back on the ground and get ready to truly fight and kick some butt, I approach it differently. I evolve as an individual and fighter each time. This time I am being completely open with the people that matter and letting them in on the process. You see, fighting this alone has not worked. In secrecy, the monster just grows larger. It is just like the monster hiding in a child's closet. He changes form and size so often and becomes more terrifying as the child refuses to face it. But once mom opens up the door, the child realizes that the monster is nothing but a noisy, swinging clothes hanger. I am evolving in life and am moving on, letting go. Fully. Completely.

R. Rewards are fun. Let's face it, my demons cost me a lot of money in the long run. So why not put some money in the metaphorical jar for each day I triumph over my own thoughts. For each day I see my suffocating, life threatening thoughts for what they are...harmless thoughts...and choose to not act on them (besides beating up my pillow), I will earn some money. And I will buy myself cool rewards along the way. I have already created a little list of presents. Money will not be wasted, because that money would have been going down the toilet anyways, why not use it for actual things.

Y. Yesterday and the world that word brings up has played too major a role in my life. Yes, my past, my yesterdays, have shaped who I have become. But it is no longer yesterday. It is now and that is what I have to work with. Yesterdays may have caused pain. They may have left scars. Like the scars on my hands from cooking, they tell me that I am a tough, strong woman, that is not afraid to fight.

Those scars were gained in making beautiful things like this chocolate peanut butter brthday cake I made for myself. Here's to living life and enjoying it, too. And if that means enjoying a delicious slice of cake with someone I love, then that sounds good to me!

Feeling Saxy

Do you ever feel like eating out by yourself?

Tonight I did, but I have to admit that I felt a bit apprehensive. I wanted a nice quite atmosphere, without it being empty. I wanted good food that was not pricey. I wanted a place where other people were relaxing by themselves enjoying some food. I thought I was asking for a bit much, but I did find a nice llittle spot off of Pearl Street.

Saxy's Cafe. A nice little coffee shop with some sandwiches, sandwiches and plates. Basically, where I work, but different. There is not way that I would be able to relax at my little Caffe Sole. I would feel compelled to run in and see what Lewis (the other cook) was doing. I would want to tell him that he is taking far too long with the plates (as he usually does). So finding a similar place was exactly what I needed. The thing that set this little Cafe apart from my Caffe Sole, was that it had a few couches. I found one as far away from the open door (brrr) as possible and snuggled in with a book and a magazine. It felt so cozy eating my sandwich from a plate on my lap. It felt like home...but without the Stephen. It was simple and nice.

I loved the decor, and the food...well, I will let it spead for itself.

Their sandwiches come with a salad. A salad made of mixed greens with some artichokes and tomatoes. So fresh and with just the right amount of vinaigrette. Whoever designed these plates was a very intelligent individual indeed. You can make the most elaborate sandwich in the universe, but it willl not be GREAT without fresh, quality ingredients. This sandwich was quality and it was elaborate. It had some of my favorite ingredients and managed to satisfy my foodie nature.

I ordered the vegetarian pannini, which had portobello mushrooms, roasted red peppers, arugula, goat cheese, and a sun dried tomato pesto. The bread was nice and crunchy. Which I usually don't care for, but in this sandwich, it worked.

I ate it all and enjoyed the feeling of a full tummy as I walked along Pearl Street until it got dark. Sometimes it's nice to enjoy the feeling of loneliness. It isn't always a "bad" thing to be lonely. You can breathe, sigh, hum to yourself, and walk as quickly or as slowly as you want to without worrying about someone else. You can simply be without feeling "weird".

It was exactly what I needed on a quiet evening off from work and school.

Cakes and truffles

Life is huge. Vast. Enormous. Yet it is so easy to feel like we are our own little bubble.

Like a layer of cake trapped within layers of frosting.

Even if the cake is a chiffon cake and the frosting is a chiffon buttercream (made beautifully, thank you very much), seeing yourself as something so concrete and full of form is quite limiting.

It is easy to put on a happy face. To apply make up on your face to hide the puffiness or dark circles after a night of crying. It's just like applying the primer to a cake prior to fully frosting it. You are masking some of the blemishes on the cae and creating an even layer. You are in a sense masking the bare authenticity of the cake itself.

After all, if you hide behind a mask or a layer, no one will see through it, right? That is, of course, if the other people are truly able to see past their own personal bubble. Which, as you may know, is most likely NOT the case.

However, we keep masking what is "wrong". Instead of allowing yourself to simply BE, instead of allowing yourself to be fully aware of your breathe and life AROUND you and WITHIN you...you keep burying your conscious awareness by diving back into your thoughts.

We are not our thoughts.

Yet we spend a lot of time listening to them, don't we? What ever happened to reacting to things authentically. Have you ever watched a child react to a favorite song or a cool present? They dance uncontrollably or they clap. Or they laugh out loud. They don't think about the consequences. They are in tune with authenticity and not with guilt and restraint. Somehow along the way, we learn that our thoughts are who we are. We listen to our conscience. We listen to thoughts that tell us that we are insignificant or the ones that tell us that we are superior.

If we keep diving this deeply into our thoughts, we can never fully bloom. As cheesy as that sounds, it is so important to rise above our own restraints. We can put on as many smiles as we want to. But make sure you feel that smile. Make sure you feel it throughout your entire body and your entire being.

Take the time throughout the day to stop and be present. Take deep breaths. Be aware of your thoughts, but watch them come in and out. Because they will do that. Nothing in life is permanent. Especially our thoughts.

I may love bread one minute, but not want to eat it the next.

I may think a lentil soup looks strange, but then find it beautiful the next.

I may think that meat is icky, but then enjoy a succulent bite the next.

I may love the sauce, and still love it the next (Sometimes thoughts stick around for a while)

I may feel useless and empty one minute, and then full and satisfied the next

I know that I am not my thoughts. Yet, with all this "knowing" I am still yearning to be told that I am "right", that I am "important", that I am "successful", and that I am "liked".

But I need to face it that inside, everyone around me is going through the same push and pull between who they are and who their thoughts are. In a sense, we are all like truffles. The same or similiar centers, but with different shapes and coatings. We are rolled in different experiences, triumphs, and suffering. But inside we aren't very different.

And like truffles, who are each DELICIOUS on the inside, we are all genuinely good somewhere inside. And also like truffles, it is all a matter of taste which people we are attracted to.

Today I will be present, without hiding behind layers.

I will breathe.

I will let go of the need to be seen.