More cutting of chicken today. Chef B. was slightly less of a dick today, but then pulls the lovely move of telling the other class we'll wash their stock dishes, and then yells at us when it takes us until exactly 11:45 to finish clean-up. And the other class? They were out at 11:00. How do we keep getting the sticklers for the time?
No photos, because my hands just get so gross and we're really time-pressed. He makes his demos much longer than they need to be, then gives us a short amount of time to imitate him.
We got to sample rubbed chicken, brined chicken, and compound-butter roasted chicken that we made today. They were okay. I'm not the hugest chicken fan, but I guess I liked the brined one the best.
I managed to pull out two wishbones today without breaking them, and popped out the wing from the drumette on two birds with the knuckle also, so yay! That probably doesn't mean that much to you unless you've done it, but that meant I didn't have to chop at it with my nails, which is really hard.
A funny/odd thing happened at the beginning of class... Like I've described before, people kind of settled into "tables" in the last class, but this room is much smaller, so we had to condense a little. Most people are generally at the same table, although I moved to the be with the group I went out with on Friday because they had extra space. And when I got there today, Whiskey (from the front table) had set up his stuff on that table so that the only way someone else could be there was to be within inches of him (did he really think he as going to get an 8-foot expanse of table to himself? I don't know exactly what he was thinking when he set up his stuff). Anyway, I was told by the people of my table to just put my stuff down, so I did. Right next to Whiskey. When I came back from the first demo, I realized his stuff was gone - weird. I mean, it was fine, he could stay at our table - I spent the first week working at the same table as him - I just needed him to move over a little. I don't know why he moved - we did make room for T. because he walked in late, or maybe he heard me mumbling about how much space he seemed to want for himself, but, whatever, the table was mostly back to normal.
It's kind of funny though - it's like how in a college classroom, even the lecture halls, even when there aren't assigned seats, most people sit in the same seat. But then you've always got those one or two people who don't, and they always mess up someone on the day they move. But you can't complain or tell them to move, because they're not assigned spots...
Anyway, there's this one older woman, she's really nice but really quiet and I'm not sure how well she speaks English, and she's always at a different table. Which means someone else loses their spot for the day. Yesterday was T.'s good buddy, New York. When she walked in, T wasn't there yet, and we had no spots at the time, so she ended up at a different table because the older woman had taken an extra spot. Ha. Confusing. And silly of course. But it kind of sucks being separated, because we've established a rhythm of helping each other.
Brining keeps the chicken moist because of osmosis and cells then trying to balance the equilibrium outside and inside the chicken. Or something like that.