...Lived to Speak Another Day

Lots of you know (and some of you don't) that I'm a middle-aged Deep Southerner in a second year of pursuing a degree in Culinary Arts Technology at Jones County Junior College.  It's a second go-round of higher education, the first attempt occurring almost three decades ago.  Remarkably and amazingly, all of the core curriculum credits from those college years transferred forward through time to land securely in this present day.  There was only one class missing:  speech.  I hemmed, hawed, begged, cited life experience for possible credit for the accursed class, and pled futuristic mental angst if made to take it. I should have saved my breath;  tonight was the first speech.

As far as speeches go it was to be short, of two to four minutes length.  Three items were to be brought, representative of who we are.  An attention-getting device, such as a favorite quote, was to begin the speech, along with naming and then explaining the different items brought.

These are mostly high school dual enrollment or first year college students.  There are only a handful of non-traditional students in the class and they're all younger with zero intimidation factor.  Most of the youngsters I know personally.  The large class was split in half so there were only 16 individuals in the later time slot, instead of the whole room full of giggling snorting texting students.  Did it matter, as far as nervousness was concerned?  Not one bit.   I don't fear death nearly as much as public speaking with a great amount of respect for both of them.

The two minute forty-nine second speech was made, a vibrato large enough to drive a Big Mac truck through developing at some point.  No notes were used, eye contact was made, words were not tripped over, pregnant pauses were non-evident, conclusion was conclusive; everything but introducing myself was remembered (and that was done at the end {and was the only 2 point deduction}).

So what'd I say?  I thought you'd never ask!  As well as can be remembered (it was kind of an out-of-body experience) here it is for you to enjoy or snicker at, permanently preserved in cyberspace.

Good afternoon!  I was going to begin with the well-known poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay that goes (suck in deep breath, quote poem with it) My candle burns at both ends, it will not last the night.  But oh, my foe, and ah, my friend, it gives a lovely light.  BUT upon reflection, I believe Freddie Mercury's apt lyric to be more suitable "Fat bottomed Girls you make the rocking world go round!"

The three items I've brought tonight are a Trinity Hymnal, official hymnal of the Presbyterian Church in America, and by extension, Leakesville Presbyterian Church; a photo of my two sons; and a clay statue by Dylan Karges, an archeological illustrator with the Cobb Institute at Mississippi State University.

The name of the hymnal is the Trinity Hymnal, readily identifying it as an object associated with the triune God that I serve.  It also has a trio of meaning attached to it.  The first is that is represents seventeen years worth of classical piano lessons and also 28 of 53 years as the pianist at Leakesville Presbyterian Church.  It secondly represents years and years of loving music, being able to identify rhythms and cadences and hear melodies surrounding me with musical texture all the time.  Thirdly, it holds, in the back of it, the positions of the Presbyterian Church in America as found in its Westminster Confession of Faith, Shorter Catechism, Apostle's and Nicene Creeds, and responsive Psalter readings.

The second item is a photograph of my sons, Michael and John Robert.  To borrow E. B. White's phrase from Charlotte's Web (as Charlotte is explaining to Wilbur what her egg sack was), they are my magnum opus, my greatest work.  I was not going to be a mother.  I'd taken the GRE and was headed to the University of Texas in Austin to pursue an advanced degree in paleontology.  I had nieces and nephews that I loved and that was enough.  Life intervened, fortunately.  I had sons and knew that raising them would be the most worthwhile endeavor ever undertaken.  Despite all my efforts at being a perfect nurturing mother of bodies, minds, and souls, they turned out to be delightful, intelligent, sometimes quite, often rowdy, caring, respectful Southern Gentlemen. I couldn't be prouder.

The last item is a funny little clay statue titled Facing Future.  It was part of a larger exhibition at one time and was a Mother's Day gift at a point in life where much introspection had been done and time was presenting itself to be moved in one direction or another.  The statue is kind of funky, individual from all the others created.  He leans forward, chin up, looking skyward, ready to step into the future.  It acted as a catalyst to do something, to go forward, to go into the future.  That's where I am.  It's one of my most treasured possessions.

In summation then, on this table there are three f's represented, but in a good way:  faith, family, and future.

My name is Mary Havard-McCoy and thank you very much!

"Moore" is Better: A Small Tribute

She can be an emotional sap but it's passion that drivers her every thought:  true Otherworldly love for a child, unfathomable loyalty and devotion to family and friends, and ambition to affect excellence where mediocracy (the system ruling mediocrity) exists.

That's Chef Instructor Moore on the left;

Mrs. Gloria Newell, aka Mama Newell, on the right.

I was blessed to witness all manners of passion from the petite red head this past week, from anger over improperly stored produce to dealing with last minute changes.  She handled them all.

She's ever mindful of the quality of the program and the safety and well-being of all her students, not to mention the health of the public.  And! If a student truly desires to know more than offered in the program, she can handle that as well.

One of the happiest days of my culinary education...

I often feel the need to mother her, to nurture the head of the department as one of my own, she's just that endearing, often having to give myself a good mental shaking to keep from putting a ribbon in her hair.  She's strong enough without my encouragement; she does have a mother already, although it doesn't stop the occasional text from being sent.  Sometimes, this gray matter forgets that she's not a peer, that I am not her equal in culinary skills.

She's beating the butter down for puff pastry:  NOT

a skill I'm finding necessary to master, given the availability

of it everywhere, even at the Pig...

Chef Instructor Moore has a tough job, keeping all of us in line while teaching the finer points of culinary arts in the hospitality industry.  It's not a position I'd ever desire but I'm thankful she has it, merely grateful to have her presence in this life.  Sometimes being in the lead position isn't the most popular, but she's leading us forward (sometimes kicking and screaming) to excellence, making the Jones County Junior College Culinary Arts Technology program the place to be in the South for a remarkable education.

And she's also very generous with praise when we've

deserved it!

Her program consistently produces graduates ready for whatever commercial kitchen or front of the house position or, like myself, cakery institution they've a mind to work in, sufficiently schooled by the mind and sometimes emotionally sappy spirit of the petite red head I'm fortunate to call Chef Moore.  Thank you, ma'am, for being here!

Things They Don't Teach In Culinary Arts

I learned so many things the spring semester as a student in the culinary arts department at Jones County Junior College in Ellisville, Mississippi.  I've discovered just this evening, though, that there are a lot of things that weren't learned;  common, every day things that should've been part of some curriculum but weren't.

For instance, one box of pickling cucumbers from Eubanks Produce/Charlie's U Pick will yield 21 pounds of sliced cucumbers (minus the ones held out for eating).

That's enough sliced cucumbers for one making of

14 day sweet pickles and one making of lime sweet pickles.

One very large cabbage yields a little over ten quarts of coarsely chopped cabbage

Ten quarts of cabbage is enough for 2.5 makings of

picalilli, per the Ball Blue Book of Canning.

Five large green tomatoes yield two quarts of diced tomatoes.

A dough scraper is a very handy tool in the kitchen!  

Not only does it make icing on cakes very smooth,

it also doubles as a diced-vegetable picker-upper.

Dicing six quarts of green tomatoes goes a lot quicker if the little rounded bits are diced separately and individually.

 My largest pot is not large enough for 2.5 batches of diced vegetables for picalilli.

A nicely scrubbed ice chest is large enough for 2.5 batches of vegetables for picalilli.

I took the lid off, covered the veggies with plastic wrap, 

and have it in the big cooler on the back porch to be dealt with tomorrow.

And lastly, but certainly not least:  One perfectly ripened cantaloupe can entirely disrupt an afternoon, if consumed over the course of the day

But it was so worth it...

And that's it for the time being.  If anything more is discovered that needs to be covered during kitchen lab for any given course, I'll come back to pass on the education.

Y'all have a good one!

<3 Mary