I Confess

A Chef’s Cooking Confession

Let it be known that I am a professional chef. I still make minor mistakes every once in a while, but nothing to write home about.

However, back in my college days, before I became serious about becoming a chef, I had quite a few cooking adventures that I’m not eager to confess openly.

I went to college in Texas, which is known for its intense summer heat. One summer it was so bad that the air conditioner broke in the apartment I was sharing with a friend, and since we were poor college kids, we couldn’t do much about it.

Another friend was hosting a birthday party for her boyfriend, who happened to be a really good friend of mine. She asked everyone to bring some food for the party so that she didn’t have to make a lot. Being the budding cook that I was, I decided to be ambitious and make a pork tenderloin and a side dish.

I called her the night before to complain about the 100-degree heat and make sure she was still alright with me bringing a pork tenderloin. “Of course,” she said. “You know that’s going to be the only meat at the party, right?”

Uh, what about everyone else bringing a dish to pass? I guess she had assumed I meant I’d make this for everyone (10-15 people) rather than as one option among other meat dishes. The meat that I had would feed about four people, if that.

Being the macho man that I was, I said it would be fine. Then I hung up the phone and panicked. It was 11pm, so everything was closed. Besides, I was tired from working all day and the heat was oppressive.

Thankfully, I managed to dig out a large package of chicken breasts from the freezer. (I know, sounds a bit more sophisticated than most college guys, but I was into cooking, what do you expect? I thought it might impress a girl at some point.).

I poured myself a drink and cranked up the radio while getting all of my ingredients prepared. I was feeling confident and convinced that this would be no big deal.

I spiced the pork and popped in in the 400-degree oven while the chicken was defrosting in the microwave. I was also cooking a bunch of vegetable on the stove for the side dish. Multi-tasking is obviously the easiest way to get things done, right?

Somehow the alarm went off for the pork right when the vegetables were done and the microwave was beeping for the chicken. I didn’t really plan ahead – I shoved the vegetables on a back burner and pulled the pork out of the oven with a towel. (Even I didn’t own oven mitts).

Since the air conditioner wasn’t on, the fire alarm went off, which added to my stress of wanting to get everything done. I quickly pulled the chicken out of the microwave, but in realizing I had no counter space, I decided to move the pan with the pork on it.

Somehow I thought it would be ok to pick up a 400-degree pan with my bare hand. In an instant I felt sheer pain, dropped the chicken on the floor and stared at my hand, now covered in blisters. I nearly threw up.

Who knows what might have happened had my roommate not walked in a few minutes later to hear the fire alarm still buzzing and see me lying on the floor in a dizzy, tired stupor clutching my hand.

Well, I didn’t go to the party. I think my roommate called and said I was sick. They must have ordered pizza, because my dish certainly didn’t make it to the party.

Moral of the story: Don’t cook when you’re in a hurry, or you’re incredibly tired, or in 100-degree heat. You might get second degree burns on your hands and ruin your hopes of impressing girls at a party with your cooking.

-Joseph Morris

Joseph Morris has been a professional chef for over 20 years. He also owns the site http://www.culinaryartscollege.org a Culinary Arts College for students interested in getting a degree in culinary arts.

Dudes and dolls, go to his site!