I know I shouldn’t use the term “sucked” to describe my final, but somehow “painful” or “perverse” doesn’t seem to fit the bill. But it’s over and now I just have to worry about cuisine tomorrow.

Here’s how it went.

We arrive right at 3:30 and stand outside the practical room waiting for the chef. We’ve studied eight recipes, but on the day of the test, they’ve chosen three. We draw from a hat to figure out which recipe we’ll be making. Our choices for today are the Mogodor, the Pear Charlotte and Apple Turnovers with Palmiers. I’m the first to go in, and I draw Apple Turnovers and Palmiers. I’m pretty excited because I have a knack for making puff pastry. I’m confident and ready to begin.

In addition to our recipe, we also have a technical portion to the exam. We have to make a sweet pastry crust and line a tart mold. We have two and a half hours to complete everything.

There are four of us who have drawn the same recipe – Ashley, Bridget, Massimo, and me. To begin with, the room is hot which isn’t good for making puff pastry. Ideally the room should be cool and the marble cold.

As I’m starting my dough with butter trapped between the layers, I notice that the butter is coming out from everywhere. All of us have to use the freezer to cool the dough between each turn. Sweat is dripping down my face and trickling down my back. I’m happy with my progress though.

My sweet pastry comes together without a hitch. The crust is perfectly thin and the edges look nicely crimped. But my puff pastry is another story. I get through the five turns with some difficulty, but I manage to get it all together. The chef who is advising our class tells me to use a different technique when laying my pastry on the baking sheet. I shouldn’t have listened and just done what I’m familiar with.

When I peek in the oven to see if my apple turnovers are rising, my heart falls to my feet. It’s not rising like it should. I then check my palmiers and they’re not spreading like they should. I’m trying to retain my composure and take several deep breaths. I keep telling myself I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances.

With three minutes to spare, I plate my pastries and clean my space. My face feels hot, and I’m swearing under my breath. Downstairs in the locker room, I have a moment where I lose it. But then I’m okay. I’m done, and I know I passed. I just wanted to do really well on my final, especially because it’s pastry and my strong point.

After we’re all done, five of us have a soda at a local café. We try not to talk about the exam, but we can’t help it. We rehash everything that went wrong with each of our recipes. And then we’re done. It’s like a weight has been lifted, and I think we all feel much better.

So I’m done. I’m thankful it’s over and now that a couple hours have passed, it’s not so bad. Tomorrow is cuisine, so I have ten more recipes to memorize. I pretty much have them down, it’s just a matter of refining my techniques. Wish me luck!

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