Another day of classes has passed, and it finally feels like we're actually culinary students. It was our first day in full brigade. It was the first day where homework was due. It was the first day we actually got to do hands-on work in the kitchen, practicing using our steels and then peeling and dicing onions.
And most importantly, it was the day that First Blood was drawn. One of my classmates went to loan her knife to another, and forgot to hand it to him grip first. Voila! Two stitches on his index finger. I helped him out of his apron and toque and escorted him to the school clinic (interesting that it's situated only one building over from Culinary Arts).
It was the first wound of our school careers, but I'm sure it won't be the last. Though at least the suspense is over.
The part that bothered me and some of my fellow students was that the young woman who handed the knife improperly took offense when one of us said something to her. Perhaps she felt it wasn't his place as a classmate to say something, but the fact is, he was right -- she SHOULD have practiced proper safety techniques.