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Narrative Essay On Area Technical School

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The shaking of the bus nauseated me and only added an effect to the bundle of nerves in my stomach. Why did I surmise that this would be a decent idea? As the bus pulls to a stop my nerves start to affect my coordination. I awkwardly step off the bus and take a few moments to breath before I actually have a look at the building. “Area Technical School... huh.” I mumble under my breath, staring wide-eyed at the building. Not knowing what else to do, I slowly look around at the other bustling students entering the building, I follow. Passing through the front doors I start to fidget, not knowing anything except that the class officially starts today. Heading towards the office near the front door I didn’t realize how wrong I was. After…show more content…
How I first portray myself to my new professor - Mr. Berkel - is shoddy and atrocious. He stands at sturdy 6 feet and 7 inches tall, he towers over me, I can’t help but to stumble over my words, tense up with anxiety and look like an utter fool. After I’m done embarrassing myself, Mr. Berkel begins with proper introductions as we talk about the programs expectations and assignments ahead. As we go all through the basics, he mentions to me that the course had officially started last week and that I’ll need to buy my uniform soon. I stand there horrified that I’ve already missed a week also that I’m already behind my fellow classmates, who, now that I glance at are fitted in crisp white shirts, the puffy chef’s hat, plus the black and white striped pants. I feel the sting of red spread over my face in complete embarrassment. Eventually, after settling everything, it’s time for demonstrations.
Mr. Berkel starts off by explaining the knife techniques and how to set a plate properly. He mentions that the class will be using a form of preparation called, mise en place. The whole idea of mise en place is the practice of having all the ingredients and tools set to go before you even light the stove. Mise en place (meez on PLASS) comes from restaurant kitchens, where a brigade of helpers spends the day getting everything ready for the dinner rush. It comes from a French
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