A First Impression of Culinary School

When I signed up for culinary classes, I thought I would be the oldest student in them.  Again.  Older than the instructors. Again.  Like when I first enrolled in college years ago at age 32.  I was a mother figure for many of my classmates. Yawn.

But, I am amazed now that so many, ahem, non-traditional students enroll in culinary school.  I mean, seriously, I have felt like "the baby."  On day one, I was surrounded by so many codgers that I wondered if I had stumbled into a rest home on activities day.

We'll, it turns out I'm in good company because my eyesight is on the wane, and I can't remember shit.

That point was driven home last week when one of my Advanced Food Prep group members, I'll call him "Harold," forgot his reading glasses and couldn't read the recipes.  We had to take turns loaning him ours.

But, it's GREAT!  There's power in numbers.  We get to boss the kids around, and they pretty much stay out of our way because, I don't know, they respect our advanced ages. 

Yeah, that's it.

"Out of my way, sonny, I'm sautéing here."