"What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?"

If I were a racer, and providing I could any longer see my toes, I would be stretching right now. I would be decked out in something unflattering, that wicks away sweat and pinches at your armpits (and your groin). I would likely be sizing up my competition, praying my shoelaces hold, and injecting myself with some kind of steroids (secretly). But I'm not a runner. I'm a baker. I still wear unflattering clothes. I still sweat a lot. Nothing pinches because everything is too big. (Which is a good sign.) I'm not sizing up my competition, I'm clinging to them for emotional support. I'm not on steroids but when you eat nougat for breakfast, you might as well be.

I ROYALLY messed up my marshmallows. I had coffee extract all ready for it. Coffee marshmallows + HoCho* = what you want your life to be all about. Or a mocha. This is a "both/and" kind of situation.
Anyways, I then realized we had a scaling situation on our hands as we were pouring the BOILING SUGAR SYRUP into our egg whites. Hot sloshy mess = not what marshmallows look like. And then I nearly poured that mess down the drain which would have resulted in, what we call in the culinary world, 'call the plumber cuz shit just went down'….and it's not moving. I guess. (This is stream of consciousness blogging.) But I've picked up some gelatine so I'm going to give it a try this weekend on my own when I should be studying for my midterm.

*HoCho is the gangst terminology for Hot Chocolate for those of you unaware. Now you know. And you sound cooler or as Moozh likes to call it, "Trying to be black, you white girl". You're welcome.

So marshmallows were not to be for us but we did make nougat. Did you know that nougat (and marshmallows and hard candies, I kid you not) started out as medicine? They were a way for pharmacists and apothecaries to cover up the gnarly taste of their medicine.
I was telling my friend Zoe that marshmallows used to be made from the mallow plant, that grew in marshes. And then I told her that they also used to be medicine. She will henceforth never believe anything credible I have to say. Certifiably.

But look at our nougat. Yum city, right?

Candied orange, toasted almonds and pistachio nougat. I don't know about you but I was NOT excited for nougat. Whenever I think nougat, I think of that irritating crud that gets stuck in your teeth when you eat a Toblerone. So I also associate nougat with Swiss Chalet. Not a good association. But this nougat is NOTHING like that crud. Like anything made by hand. My mind was completely changed about marshmallows, marzipan, and fondant for this same reason. When it's not churned out in a factory where the air smells like Frito Lay chips, it actually turns out pretty good. This nougat is chewy in the best way while still being pillowy. And it's not the 'clingy-chewy', where you think you're gonna rip out your fillings if you eat another piece. I have totally made things like that. Good nougat.

We also made Pate de Fruit (Pat-due-Free) yesterday and it is the candy equivalent of bacon. You will eat EXCESSIVE amounts of it and it 'cures' underneath a centimetre of granulated sugar for at least a day. K, maybe it's not JUST like bacon but it is so good. Again, it's the artisan equivalent of a fuzzy peach (or whatever fruit puree you choose to make it out of). I'm sure if Epic Meal Time found out about Pate de Fruit there would be a shirt that read "Pate de Fruit Pate de Fruit Pate de Fruit Pate de Fruit".

This week has been more of midterm prep.
We made more chocolate truffles:

More buns (accompanied by Chef's continuous jokes about 'handling our buns'. Hardy har. My sense of humour is the first to go under stress.)

We may take another stab at eclairs tomorrow but that is somewhat unlikely I think. We are learning plating tomorrow. Pretty desserts. I am forbidden to put a mint sprig on ANYTHING. EVER. Chef ranted about that for probably five straight minutes today. Which I get. Mint is boring. And unless you have halitosis, I would wager, no one eats the mint sprig. You either leave it on the side of your plate or flick it at your eating partner. (Moozh and I never go for dinner anymore. So strange.)
We made sauces today: caramel, chocolate, anglaise, fruit coulis, gelee, to use to plate things tomorrow. Eight hours will be spent on learning the art of the 'smear'. You know the one I'm talking about. The sauce that you always wish there was more of.

My practical is a week from today. Week. From. Today. What is scarier to me is that a week from tomorrow, I will BE in advanced, preparing food for the general public! But what if…what if something totally irrational and unlikely happens! What will I do?! How will I recover from the embarrassment?! Like what if I stab someone (by accident, for real)? What if I give someone food poisoning?! What if my mousse doesn't set?
(I'm trying to poke fun at myself now. I will laugh later. WHEN IT HAPPENS.)

P.S ~ Three points for me: I used the "Hula Dance" from The Lion King in conversation at school the other day. Someone mentioned something about doing the hula (Because this is what you talk about in your down time at pastry school) and of all the songs and quips that could have come to mind, I managed to pull this out, complete with dance moves, I can guarantee you. It's stuck there, in my head. That is core space I am never going to get back, never be able to use for any other useful purpose.

Find some Toblerone. DON'T EAT THE NOUGAT CRAP. Sing a Disney song. Repeat.