One Man's Inedible

School today was a long, hard day - we had 6 or so complex dishes to prepare. My usual bench partner and I (let's call him, ummm...*thinks* Cheffie) were as usual working together. Now for us working together means one of us will chop enough onions for two people, or make enough mayo for two, or whatever. It saves time, we both know we're capable, and frankly Cheffie is always dying to get out and have a smoke. Anyway, today being such a demanding day, recipe-wise, it kinda just happened that he cooked some dishes and I cooked others. This is not usual - we both need to know how to cook the dishes, it's just that sometimes we help one another with the mise en place. So he did some, and I did some, and we each did some. Then we would plate up (separately of course) and take it to the Chef for evaluation (constructive critisicm). So as it happens Cheffie made the Beetroot Fingers in Honey, and I happened to plate up first. I take it up to the teacher, and she tells me it's PERFECT. Tastes good, looks good, cooked fabulously.

I didn't touch one part of that dish. So I kinda feel like a fraud. After all, Cheffie cooked all of it.

Cheffie then takes his plated up beetroot (mind, from the exact same pot) and gets it evaluated. She tells him that his is undercooked, and asks me to bring mine over so he can taste what it should be cooked like. She also doesn't like his seasoning. She was comparing Cheffie's beetroot to...Cheffie's beetroot.

Needless to say, Cheffie took it all in his stride - but didn't let me live it down all day. He did the work, I got the kudos. Clearly, this teacher could see brilliance.