Meat Fab

The class stuff, I can handle. I’ve been handling it for sixteen years. Lectures, reading, study, and tests are all second nature to me. I’ve always been that nerdy girl who determines her self worth by how good her grades are. Now, after six weeks of sitting in a classroom, we’re finally moving into the kitchen, and it’s very likely that I’m going suck- A LOT.

On my first day of Meat Identification and Fabrication, I’m standing in front of a ridiculously yellow chicken, swimming in whites that are a size too big, holding a dull knife, and having a mini freak-out. I’m not butchering this chicken, I’m destroying it. Chef Briwa broke his down in about two minutes and didn’t even appear to be rushing. It’s taking me at least ten and somehow half the chicken’s skin disappeared once I’d finally cut it up. It’s not been a promising first day.

The next day, I’m in better spirits. Though I’m still butchering chickens only in the Slasher-pic sense of the word, I can’t help but have fun. Chef Briwa seems to project a rather stress-free air about the whole thing. I can't help but laugh as he repeatedly peppers his conversation with out- of-place mid-nineties hip hop slang: “Now what do you with all this trim, girl- friend? Wasting all of that wouldn’t be good bidness. We couldn't get down with that.”

Towards the end of the week, and about twenty broken-down chickens later, I’m feeling a lot more comfortable about the class and the kitchen in general. Chef Wong is teaching the last three days of Meat Fab. An ex-military man, he emphasizes that our uniforms be perfect (hair off the collar, just one roll of your sleeves, please), but also acknowledges that we’re here to learn and make a lot of mistakes. Aaron and I ask him for a knife sharpening demonstration and (lucky me!) he shows the class how to properly use our stones with my knife.

After five days of meat fabrication, I’m not even feeling too nervous about our practical. In addition to our written test, we’re supposed to truss and break down three chickens – something we’ve now done dozens of times. This isn’t to say I anticipate getting an A; I just don’t expect to bomb it.

The day after our final, we get to fool around with sausage. There’s something about taking apart dead animals for six hours a day that brings out the inner sixth grader in every one. Almost every sentence warrants a “That’s what she said.” Now we’re expected to make sausage by stuffing ground meat into pigs’ intestinal casings using a machine that has the word “DICK” emblazoned across the front of it. A lot of goofiness ensues.

Once Meat Identification and Fabrication is over, we’ll spend another seven days on Seafood Identification and Fabrication. Knives now sharpened and somewhat used to cutting animals up, I’m not nervous about class anymore. I can handle the kitchen stuff, after all.