The Insider Scoop, was it worth it?
Charlotte and I woke up at the bright hour of 9:30.
I started my morning by setting off for the kitchen (not the BMH kitchen, don’t get ahead of yourself). I prepared two (2) piping hot cups of coffee in my Moka Pot and finally got the attention I’d been craving - one of my neighbors stopped in to fill her kettle and commented on it.
After months of daydreaming, I finally made my Irish coffee dreams come true. It was a bit ad-libbed, but it was better than I expected.
As the clock ticked 10:45, it was time to head over to the dining hall. After some initial confusion, we were led down a looming staircase to the depths of hell. After months of questioning what the kitchens looked like, I finally saw them for myself.
We got a tour, and while I consider myself seasoned in organizing (my last job had a closet), the other participants had to be shown how to find what they needed.
Just like on Iron Chef, we were presented with mystery ingredients, which we had to incorporate into our dishes.
Unfortunately, unlike in Iron Chef, we weren’t cooking alongside Bobby Flay. (Do Canadians know who he is? If not, have they never seen Worst Cooks In America? To take it a step further - is Guy’s Grocery Games a thing here?)
Time flew by, and it went searingly well. Good one, eh? (Canadian cultural reference to make up for the Bobby Flay thing. Terry Fox. Grade Eight. Trying to knock them all out in one paragraph. The Annex. The Beaches. The Mapleleafs).
Also, I tried passionfruit for the first time, and damn.
As for what goes on in the BMH kitchen, that’s a secret I’ll never tell. XOXO, Gossip Girl.
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