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Narratives, Family & Soufflés

November 18, 2009

I got a few comments from random people on the internet on not worrying regarding my FSOT scores. Also, some encouraging words – so, thank you.

I submitted my personal narratives yesterday morning. I had spent all of the evening before revising each essay. The strength in my writing comes from the revisions. I know this, to not have revised them would have been foolish. Which does not quite explain why I did the bulk of my work the night before it was due, but in my defense I was actively mulling it over for most of that.
I’ve become rather attached to the idea of being a foreign service officer – the further into the process I get the more I want it – which is not actually helping the indifference I was trying to put on in order to not face crushing defeat. You know, set the bar low and you won’t be disappointed. Yet remain cautiously optimistic. I won’t know until January if I’m invited to take the Oral Assessment. Sheesh. Until then, there’s nothing I can do about actively moving towards my future except start re-learning French. Because both Plan A and Plan B require it and I might as well acquire a useful skill in purgatory. That’s right, purgatory. Anyone that knows me will agree that I’m absolutely awful at not being able to move forward. I hate treading water in life.

In a related yet different note, my father sent me a letter that arrived last night. Basically, he said “how proud I am of you for what you have done and are doing with your life.” He went on to say that it was a relief to my mother and me that I was capable of functioning independently as an adult.
This is coming from the same man who once informed fifteen year old me that he did not want me in his family any more. The same man who told eighteen year old me that he felt like a failure as a parent because I wasn’t Catholic.
Who is this man and what has he done with my father? I mean, I’ll accept it for what it is, but I’m still kind of wary. What has changed? I’m still the same person. I’m still not Catholic. I’ve always been responsible and well put together. Is it because I’m going for a government job? Because I’m dating men? Is it because he has some peers who have kids my age that are still living at home? I don’t know. It makes me sad that this letter took me so off-guard, that it makes part of me wary.
That doesn’t stop me from sticking the letter on my tack board above my desk in my bedroom.

The other news in my life all contains baking. This is not terribly surprising. I have been socializing, but my socializing has become Come over and I will bake for you, killing the compulsive-baking needs and the extroverted needs with one stone.
What I’ve Baked Recently
A Fruit Trifle* The pound cake I made from Greenspan’s Baking book (Rum Drenched Vanilla Cakes without the Rum Syrup), p. 226. The custard and fruit mixture I got from The Big Book of Breakfast, p. 329.
Tiramisu Cake from Greenspan, p. 266 (and then I remembered that I don’t actually like tiramisu. The cake is a good one though.)
Spinach & Bacon Soufflé
Parmesan & Gruyère Soufflé
Vanilla Bean Soufflé
Chocolate Soufflé

All the Soufflé recipes are from the hand out given during my Soufflé 101 course at L’Academie de Cuisine last night. Regarding soufflés, they are not nearly as complicated as they seem and dear goddess I have eaten so many of them at this point that if I eat another soufflé I might vomit. Which is too bad because I plan on making Tomato Basil Soufflé this Saturday.
I want to tinker with the basic Chocolate Soufflé recipe – add a few ingredients and such – and if it comes out a success, I’ll post the modified recipe.
Just for the record? Soufflés ALWAYS fall. That’s what they do. When they’re all pretty and puffy they’re too hot to eat. A fallen soufflé does not mean failure. They should still be served straight out of the oven, though. In that “look-don’t-touch” way. Then your guests can ooo and ahh at your cooking skillz (or, more specifically, your ability to beat egg whites until they beg for mercy), watch the little buggers deflate, then consume the airy, eggy goodness.

*I actually took pictures of this one but I haven’t uploaded them yet.

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