Eating for an Education

Chapter 1

Amanda was pretty. She wouldn’t call herself beautiful, but she knew that she was at least “pretty.” She had shoulder length, brunette hair, and flawless, alabaster skin, that showed it when she blushed, so strongly that it was deeply emberassing to her, which made Amanda blush more deeply, creating a vicious cycle. One that most people found cute but only embarrassed Amanda more, leading to a problem that I’d bet you can guess. It usually ended with Amanda running off somewhere to be alone while she cooled off.

Amanda was from a poor family, not “impoverished and starving” poor, but “We don’t have the money to put you through school,” poor. Still, Amanda wanted to attend some form of higher education. Like many teenagers, Amanda had no clue what she wanted to do with her life, but she hated the idea of being at a dead-end job with no prospects, and her parents always griped about how they had no chance in life, since they didn’t qualify for any especially good jobs, or have the uncommon creativity and drive to succeed otherwise.

So, Amanda decided to apply to dozens of colleges of various types, with a simple plan. She would attend the first school to accept her with a scholarship that let her go without spending money on tuition. Then, the first establishment to accept her application was a culinary school on the opposite end of the country. Amanda was from the east coast, and was accepted by The County College of San Francisco, a school in California. That distance would require her to move. So, Amanda asked herself, “Why did I even apply to this one?” with a shrug, Amanda had applied to schools largely at random, with the possibility of a full scholarship as her only strictly held requirement.

Then, three months later Amanda had not received a second acceptance letter, well, technically she did. It was at the same culinary school, for the next quarter of class. Amanda didn’t even apply to The City College of San Francisco this time. She figured that they’d just sent her a letter this time since she’d applied before and never answered when they contacted her. But, one thing confused the young adult deeply. Amanda had never asked, but she received a promise of a full tuition scholarship, so long as she kept a GPA of 3.0 or greater at all times. Amanda saw that, and said, “I’m not superstitious, but I’m gonna call this fate.” And set out to get a plane ticket to California.

The very next day, Amanda found herself walking into the campus’s lounge. A delicious scent filled the air, no surprise at a culinary school, but it still made her smile. It smelled like an apple pie baking, which was Amanda’s favorite dessert hands down. It smelled so good that Amanda forgot that she was twenty minutes late for orientation. She walked toward the scent, and found herself at a door with the sign over it, that she read aloud, “Auditorium room.” Amanda reached out and took the doors handle.

Amanda stepped inside the room to see a heavy woman in a chef outfit, complete with a poofy hat. The woman spoke loudly, addressing the entire auditorium. It immediately made Amanda think of the saying about never trusting a skinny chef, which made her smile broadly. Amanda felt her initial uneasiness fading away as she walked into the room. The woman addressing the crowd said, “Now, I am sure you’ve all heard the old adage ‘practice makes perfect,’ but, as the head pastry chef at this institution I really do believe it. So, expect to bake at least one batch of pastries each day in my classes. But, aside from quality, consistency is the hallmark of mastery. Anybody can make an excellent batch of nearly anything once. It is something special to be able to do everything right fifty times in a row. Yes, baking is the place where that is most likely to occur, that’s why I chose it as my focus. So, when I grade your work, do not expect to slide by on sheer luck if I happen to taste some of your best work, I will test an entire pastry at the very least, in order to see the quality of each and every part of it. Then I do the same for pastries that cooked on different parts of the pan. I wouldn’t want to overlook inconsistencies based on where and how things baked, and in doing so fail to teach my students properly. If I had my druthers, the same would be true in any of the cooking classes.”

As the instructor spoke, Amanda sat down, and overheard two other students speaking. “That explains why she’s so fat,” said a guy sitting directly in front of Amanda, the girl sitting next to him replied, “Honestly, she probably would be anyway. I think she’s gonna stuff her face with sweets either way. This is just how she explains it, so she sounds good.” Amanda suddenly felt a bit guilty for her thoughts on never trusting a skinny chef. She listened closely as the woman explained how classes would work here.

But Amanda’s attention was suddenly torn away from the speaker. She heard the guy in front of her say to the girl beside him, “So, did you see the price of the dorm rooms yet?” the girl said, “Yeah, it’s a great deal for somewhere so close to campus.” The guy replied, “Great? It’s more than three grand a month! I have a two-hour drive to get here from where I live, and I’m thinking I’ll have to do that every day, I can’t afford three grand a month!” Amanda was too focused on her own thoughts to even consider that. She had completely forgotten about rent. Maybe Amanda had managed to get tuition free, but three thousand a month for rent, it was just more than she could handle. Hell, she’d have to pay more for food too probably, Amanda was so worried about this that she was thinking that she’d have to catch a flight back East after this. Maybe she had just wasted a ton of money on plane tickets for nothing. But paying these fucking San Francisco prices was simply not possible.

Amanda ended up sitting in her seat, staring off into space while desperately trying to find a way to make things work out. Her budget couldn’t stand rent of one thousand a month, forget three. Eventually she was shaken out of her thoughts by a familiar voice, saying, “Are you okay miss?” Amanda looked up to see the speaker. Apparently, this woman had stayed well after most of the students attending the speech had ended. Amanda replied, “Yeah, I’m fine,” even as she spoke, the words felt like an obvious lie. The chef-looking woman clearly didn’t buy it either, she said, “Come now, I’m not stupid. Be honest with me.” Amanda sighed, and said “I came here because I was excited to be accepted on a scholarship, I didn’t think of things like rent till another student mentioned it here and now. Maybe I should just go home, I can’t even cover half of the rent.” The speaker said, “Now, if rent wasn’t an issue, would you be able to attend class here?” Amanda sighed and said, “I want to say yes, but, even that, would be a lie. I could hardly pay for price of living back home, and this place is expensive in every way.” Amanda felt her eyes welling up with tears as she said, “I should just get a job as a waitress or whatever, and forget about this stupid idea of making something of myself. Hell, I don’t even know if being a chef is really what Il want in-“ The woman put a hand on Amanda’s shoulder and said, “You know, I had the same thoughts when I was your age, and I ended up living out of my car, and taking the extra food that students made at my school. When I became chef instructor here, I promised myself that I would never leave anyone in the same place that I was in. So, how’s this, if you work as my assistant here at the school, I’ll let you sleep in my guest room, and even make sure you’re fed. Hell, I was honestly upset that I couldn’t lose weight while keeping my grading policy. So, I’ll taste one bite of everything, like all the other instructors, and you have the rest, and let me know if it’s the same as the part that I ate or not. Deal?”

Amanda couldn’t believe it. First the unsolicited letter, promising a full tuition scholarship, now this offer. Amanda was never super religious, or even superstitious, but she was starting to think that coming here was her destiny. So, she simply said “That sounds amazing. I couldn’t have asked for more,” and she held out a hand, saying, “I’m Amanda by the way, Amanda Jones.” The instructor took Amanda’s hand and said, “Pamela Smith, and I have high hopes for this.” Amanda bit back the urge to say that she didn’t even know the instructors name before this. She knew that she would never forget it now.

So, Amanda followed Pamela home, trying very hard to commit the route 5mto memory. She knew that it wouldn’t be hard to just GPS the address if she got lost, but there were a lot of odd little tricks to getting around in a new place, and Amanda wanted to know them all here, so she followed closely. Despite the, uncommonly generous, offer that Ms. Smith had given to Amanda, her home was pretty average. If anything it was smaller than Amanda had expected, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to complain now.

The next day was the first day of ordinary classes for Amanda. She followed Ms. Smith into the classroom, the classroom looked nothing like any classroom that Amanda had ever seen, but that was no surprise, this class was about baking, not math or writing. Amanda got to hear a condensed version of the orientation speech, in which Ms. Smith told the class about how they would be expected to bake something every day, and how she and her assistant would be certain if the quality of any given baked good, or, failing that, they would discover what was wrong and teach the student in question how to correct the details of what they were doing.

Ms. Smith then gave the class their first assignment. She said, “Now, I wasn’t kidding when I said we would all be baking every day,” and she produced a large bowl of dough, saying, “So, today we will be going over simple bread dough, and don’t misunderstand me. Simple does not mean easy, it does not mean unimportant, if anything it’s the most important lesson you will learn here, because this simple collection of flour, sugar, oil, and salt, will be the foundation upon which all of your baking skills shall be built. Now, first you take. . .” and Ms. Smith began to go over how to appropriately prepare bread dough.

When the class had finished making their dough, they loaded it into a series of ovens lining the walls of the room. Ms. Smith then lectured the class on the importance of regular practice. While she did, Amanda overheard two of her classmates talking, she recognized them as the pair who sat in front of her during orientation. The girl elbowed the guy and asked, “So, Tom, what do you think?” he replied. “I think this will be great if the commute doesn’t kill me.” To which she giggled and said, “I meant about the class. You know, the subject, the teacher.” Tom chuckled and said, “She seems nice. What do you think Sally?” Sally licked her lips and said, “I think you’ll be happy,” elbowing him again and continuing, “you like big girls, right? Well, we have the one teacher who insists on eating everything, so you get to watch your kink all day long.” Tom rolled his eyes and said, “You’re gonna make me regret telling you that, aren’t you?” Sally laughed, and said, “Nah, I’m just playing with you.” Tom gave a beleaguered sigh, as Sally continued laughing.

Once the ovens were done, Ms. Smith began looking over the loaves of bread, she said to Amanda, “Well, I’ll try stuff out normally today, then I’ll see what you think, and how your opinions match mine.” Amanda nodded and said, “Okay, that makes sense.” Smith announced, “Okay class. If you want to leave, you’re free to now. I’ll email everyone their results either way. But if you want to see this, or get your results early, you’re welcome to stay.

As the two ate and critiqued breads, Tom and Sally watched intently, and Sally elbowed Tom, teasingly saying, “So, this is like a strip tease for you, isn’t it?” Tom smiled and playfully replied, “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were interested in me with how focused you are on this.” Sally Smirked and said, “Nope. I’m happy being your skinny friend.” And laughed, “Or maybe tormentor, but of both to be honest.” Then dropped her voice to a whisper, and said, “I bet you’re imagining them both blowing up like balloons, aren’t you? Like, the TA getting as fat as Ms. Smith, and Smith getting so fat that you could roll her around like a ball.” Tom chuckled, and said, “Good thing I’m a perv, I’m too excited by what you’re saying to be mad.” And licking his lips. Sally very much enjoyed being a tease, and this was one way she could without being TOO worried about being caught. So, as Smith said something to the TA, Sally said, “Now, just imagine it. She’s gonna put on a couple pounds from just today if she’s anything like me, now, just imagine just how fat she’ll get doing this every day. Smith said we’d be making something every day in this class. Plus, who knows how much she eats on her own? She’ll just get,” and Sally put a hand on her belly, moving it outward to mime growth as she said, “So big, so fat, so chunky and lardy. Just imagine her after gaining fifty pounds, or a hundred, or two.” Tom knew this was some kind of sick game for his old friend. But, even if she thinks it’s being done at his expense, Tom was loving her little narrative. As Sally spoke, he did just what she said, and imagined the TA gaining more weight with each bite she took. He fantasized about the girl stealing away with the loaves to eat even more when the tasting was done, just becoming a human garbage disposal, growing so big that she dwarfed Ms. Smith.

Amanda looked to see how many students remained at this point, as each person graded left the room. As she did this, Amanda locked eyes with Tom, who wasn’t blatantly staring at her, in fact he seemed to be lost in thought. Amanda had an odd thought. If that one girl was right, then this guy had a thing for girls eating. Then why did he seem so distracted? Clearly, I need to eat a lot more to get his attention. Well, I’ll be doing that plenty by the time this class is done. Amanda shook the thought her head, it was absolutely not what she wanted to think about right now. So, Amanda spoke to Ms. Smith, saying, “This one is very well done. It isn’t too yeast-y, it is neither over done nor under, and it has excellent texture, so I think it proofed and was kneaded properly. What do you think Ms. Smith?” Smith Said, “Honestly, I agree with everything you said, well done. Now, on to the next one.”

For once Tom was glad for his name was Zucker, being picked last in alphabetical order meant that, when Smith chose to grade things in alphabetical order, he had a relatively good excuse to wait around and watch his instructor and her TA eating. As Sally teased him about how into it he was watching this, Tom imagined the TA eating the entire loaf of bread for each student, rather than one slice, and then partial bits throughout the loaf to meet Smith’s taste testing standards. Tom hardly even noticed the TA’s name when Smith called her Amanda. Nothing broke Tom from his fantasy until he heard Sally say, “. . . And this is just bread. This is the head pastry chef here. Imagine how much sugar this girl is gonna buzzle down. She’ll be too fat to stand by graduation.” It was a fact that Tom sincerely doubted, but one that heaved the imagery of in his mind.

Meanwhile, Amanda was painfully full, the bits of every loaf that she ate were really starting to weigh on her, and thus was just bread. She didn’t know if she would even be able to meet Smith’s standards with something more filling. But Amanda could see the light at the e d of the tunnel. The last loaf was coming up next. Tom Zucker, who was the guy who was watching her eat. It was funny, he seemed to alternate between watching her eat, and being lost in thoughts. But, when Amanda and Ms. Smith got to his loaf, she thought to herself. Okay, this is the last one. If I don’t puke from this, then I did it. So, Amanda managed to force down the first bite of his bread, she then belched, her stomach hurt like hell, but she pressed on. As Amanda finished the slice, she thought to herself. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten half this much before. Smith, who was far less troubled by eating this much, finished well before Amanda. She said, “See, silly as it may sound, I can really tell this was made with love,” Sally broke into laughter at the words, as Smith ignored her and said, “So, young man. May I ask what motivates you to cook?” which made Sally laugh even harder, as she “Love! Hahahaha.” For Tom to say, “Well, in all seriousness. I have always enjoyed cooking, and I love it when people enjoy my cooking,” for Sally to practically fall over in another bout of laughter, before saying, “I’ve got to step out before I die. Meet you outside,” as she started to leave the room. Ms. Smith said, “Before you leave, I have a little announcement for my students who stayed to the end of class. I’m going to let you know what we’re doing tomorrow.” Sally stopped to listen, and Ms. Smith said, “We will be doing a Chiffon cake, with fruit topping. If you want to include anything specific on yours, feel free to bring it. I will be bringing strawberries for everyone who didn’t bring their own.” Sally nodded and headed out, followed by Amanda, Ms. Smith, Tom, and the few remaining students.