I'm officially a chef!
I received my tall hat today and wow, not only does it have height, it's also ridiculously large. I feel dwarfed by its size. (By the way, ever wonder why a chef's hat—also known as a toque—has pleats? The folds are believed to signify how many ways a chef can cook an egg. Most toques have 101 pleats.)
At graduation, one chef handed us our diploma while another placed the toque atop our heads. We made our way through the line of chefs, each one hugging and congratulating us. There were a few speeches as well as an awards ceremony (I received an outstanding volunteer award) and a surprise slideshow made by two classmates. Afterwards, we toasted with Champagne.
That night, my friend and fellow classmate—along with our significant others—celebrated in the fanciest of ways at Del Posto. Five courses plus an extra pasta, bellinis and two bottles of wine were just what the new chefs ordered.
Six months passed by so quickly. It's hard to imagine why I ever debated not taking time off to attend culinary school; enrolling was one of the best decisions I've ever made.
I've decided it's best to just go with your gut.