School midterm Part 2: 9:48 p.m.

Brilliant drops of red bulged out of the cut on my left thumb. I had lightly grazed it with my butchering knife, while I tried to carve four uniform pork chops from a rack for my Oct. 25 school midterm. I stopped and ran to the medicine cabinet. I put on a bandage and a finger cot, grabbing even more finger cots and stuffing them in my pocket.

I was in Level 3 at The French Culinary Institute, the hardest level out of the six. I couldn't be late on the midterm. I had to turn in consomme at 8:59 p.m. and pork chops at 9:48 p.m. If I didn't and the dishes were horrible, I might fail the practical and be held back a level.

I cleaned my knife and started over. I finally made four chops except one was really skinny. I wrapped the meat and stuck it in a refrigerator. I looked at my boiling pot of salted water on the flat top. The cubes of turnip bobbed in the water. I lifted two cubes with a spoon and dropped them in ice water. I ate both. They weren’t mush. I had pulled them out in time.

The consommé had a garnish of carrots, turnips and peas. You had to make sure there was an equal ratio of vegetables in each bowl. I cooked the peas and got rid of green, sickly ones.

As the first group of students got ready to present at 8:45 p.m., I sliced potatoes on a mandolin. I had to make a crispy potato cake, or pommes darphin, for my pork dish. If I could just get the hash brown in the oven, I would be free to deal with the pork chops after I presented the soup. I slid the potato cake in the oven to crisp up even more.

The consomme had been sitting on a lower shelf over an ice bath. All the grease had floated to the top. I slid pieces of parchment paper over the consommé to lift off the fat. Then I poured the soup into a pot to heat up.

About 10 minutes before I had to present, I poured the consommé in a teapot, so I could serve the soup later. I put two tablespoons of cubed vegetables and peas in four hot bowls.

A pang of fear hit my brain as I remembered the potato cake in the oven. I took it out and slid it on a wire rack.

Everything was ready for the soup. The four hot bowls were on doilies that I had placed on room-temperature plates. Those plates were on a dinner napkin laid on a large platter.

At 8:59 p.m., I lifted the platter, walked out the door, down the hallway and into the school theater where the judges were. I lifted the teapot and poured the consommé into the bowls. As I served the soup to two judges, I could see how my latex gloves stuck to my skin.

After that, I seared my pork chops and slid them into the oven. I sauteed shallots and green peppercorns for the sauce. Then I added the pork espagnole stock I made earlier and some heavy cream.

I darted to the low-boy refrigerator to get watercress for four plates. I ran back to my station and got the bowl I had poured a bit of olive oil in to dress the watercress. A puddle of heavy cream had dropped into the bowl. I ran to get some more olive oil and sprinkled in salt and pepper.

I glanced at the stove. My sauce bubbled away. It had gotten darker and I wondered if it was reducing too much. I moved the pan to my flat top, which I turned off. But the residual heat still kept the sauce bubbling.

The digital clock on the wall clicked to 9:48 p.m. and I hadn’t quite finished plating the pork chops. I had draped sauce over the chops and placed two potato wedges underneath.

“Jenny, PUSH!” Chef A yelled from across the room. I dipped the last of the watercress in the olive oil and dropped them on the plates.

I lifted the platter and ran out the door, falling in line behind Gillian. The clock still said 9:48.

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To read School Midterm Part 1, click here.

Addendum: I passed the midterm. To FCI students who read the posts, if you're not super late turning in a dish, I think you'll be fine.