My gift is the gift of burns. Yes, burns. I’m really fabulous at burning myself. I have so much experience in fact, that I could probably write a book. But for now I’ll stick to a single blog entry.

My gift really became apparent to me when I entered school, however I think those around me discovered long before I ever did. For Christmas one year, my friends gave me a glove made of some super fantastic material so I could handle things directly from the oven. Evidently I had burned myself once when cooking in their kitchen and they remembered. My neighbors gave me an aloe vera plant one time after I burned myself on hot milk that escaped a whirring blender. And another friend gave me a pair of Ov-Gloves (oven proof gloves) before I left for France. Since I neglected to bring them with me to Paris, I bought some here. Two pairs in fact. The first ones got worn out.

In school, everyone always seems to cut themselves. Not me. I’m special. I like to burn myself. Example number one. In basic when we were three weeks into our courses, I gave myself a rather nasty burn with hot oil and butter. It required six trips to the hospital and over a month of heavy bandages. Example number two. During intermediate, we made caramel (cooked to over 400 degrees) and I managed to burn my fingers. Example number three. This week, I didn’t just burn myself once. No, I had to do it three times before I really got the message.

My speed in the kitchen has really improved over the last six months. I’m able to be more efficient and focused at what I’m doing. But sometimes I’m perhaps a little too focused. While making our tuna steaks, I burned a finger cleaning the top of the stove. Next, I pulled some oil covered paper out of a pan and burned the pads of three of my fingers. Finally, I forgot that one of the pans had been in the oven for an hour and tried to pick it up. That did the trick. Now I have the message loud and clear – maybe I need to slow down a bit.

After spending the next two hours with my hand in an ice bath and then wrapped in bandages, it occurred to me that this was my own talent and I have become a master. Too bad I can’t make a career out of it.

Who knows what’s on the horizon for my new talent and me. Maybe I can put it to good use when I start my cuisine internship in November!

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