Hello and welcome to Day 16 of Culinary School. Today was lentil shakshuka, which, if you’ve never had it, is basically eggs poached in a spiced tomato and veggie stew. It sounds fancy, tastes incredible, and makes your kitchen smell like Morocco and the Mediterranean got together and had a baby. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure at first. Lentils don’t exactly scream “Excitement.” But once everything started cooking, I knew this one was going to be good. The Chop Parade Started with a chopping marathon, red peppers, poblanos, eggplant, zucchini, onions, garlic, thyme, chives, parsley.Basically, if it grew out of the ground, I chopped it. All those knife skills are starting to pay off, I wasn’t terrified of the onion this time. Progress. Building the Base Got the pan hot, oil in, onions first till they softened.Then in went the peppers, the zucchini, the eggplant.The smell hit right away, that mix of sweetness from the peppers and that earthy kick from the eggplant. Added the garlic till it went aromatic (which is chef-speak for “holy fuckl, that smells amazing”). Then came the fire-roasted tomatoes, the kind that actually taste like someone cared, plus the lentils, cayenne, paprika, salt, pepper, and a ladle or two of stock to loosen it up. Covered it up, let it bubble away till the lentils softened and the sauce thickened. Already looked good. Already smelled better. Eggs, Feta, and a Bit of Lemon Magic For plating, I used a smaller pan, cracked a couple of eggs right into the sauce, threw in a handful of feta, and finished it with lemon juice, zest, and fresh parsley. The feta melted into the sauce, the eggs poached perfectly, and that lemon zest just punched it up to another level. It looked sexy, it tasted spicy, salty, lemony, absolute belter of a dish. The Finished Dish The sauce was rich but not heavy, the lentils gave it that hearty bite, and the egg yolk tied it all together.This was one of those dishes that makes you stop halfway through a bite and just nod.

Hello and welcome to Day 15 of Culinary School. Today was kitchen internship day, which basically means: big pots, big quantities, and zero chance of keeping your apron clean. We were cooking for the homeless and the community in need — a few hundred meals to start, eventually part of the 2,000 they send out every single day. It's organised chaos in the best way possible. Sausages, Peppers, and… a Paddle? I got put on sausage duty, onions, peppers, chicken, the works.I thought, aye, easy enough. Grab a spatula, get it sizzling. Then the chef handed me a paddle. Like, an actual wooden paddle. I looked at him and said, “What is this for? Steering the stew downstream?” He laughed. I didn’t. Until five minutes later when I realised that thing was absolutely necessary. More sausage went in.Then more onions.Then more peppers.Then chicken.Then more sausage again. By the end, I was stirring a pot the size of a small hot tub, sweat dripping, steam everywhere, feeling like the world’s least-coordinated pirate. That paddle wasn’t a joke. Feed the City Once the sausages were cooked down, we loaded everything into hotel trays to chill overnight.Tomorrow, volunteers portion it all out, box it, and send it across Austin. Then we made grits, massive, creamy vats of the stuff. As a Scot, it feels weird calling anything that close to porridge “southern,” but fair play, Texans know what they’re doing with butter. After lunch, we helped package five or six hundred meals, ready to ship out.Seeing tray after tray lined up, ready to feed actual people, was a bit mental. It's a proper operation. Efficient, fast, and full of people who give a damn. What a Day There’s nothing glamorous about stirring sausage with a paddle or scooping grits into trays,— but it’s bloody satisfying.Everyone’s joking, moving, shouting orders, trying not to burn anything. It's chaos, but the good kind. The kind where you end up smiling at the end because it worked. And aye, next time someone hands me a paddle in the kitchen, I’ll say thank you and get to work.

Today was a day I was not looking forward to.Fucking green vegetables.They’ve always been shite, boiled to death, squeaky, flavourless, the sort of thing your mum made you choke down before pudding. But I promised myself I’d keep an open mind.And holy fucking hell… my mind was blown. If you’d told me a few weeks ago that one of my biggest “holy-shit” moments would involve asparagus, I’d have laughed, and called you fucking daft.But here we are. Because, when you blanch asparagus properly, it’s not just good, it’s life changing. The Line-Up Grilled Romaine with Green Goddess Dressing. Blanched and Sautéed Asparagus with Beurre Blanc Two dishes that sounded like punishment for people who hate joy, and turned out to be two of the best things I’ve eaten in weeks. Two dishes. Zero meat. 100% joy. Prep Work Started the day by trimming the asparagus. Chef showed us a neat wee trick, snap one spear where it naturally breaks, then use that as your template. Every one’s perfect after that. No fucking about in this kitchen, snapping each one individually. Halved and quartered the romaine, picked off the tired leaves, diced an onion for the beurre blanc, and got the water roaring for blanching. Asparagus: The Glow-Up It started with blanching.Boiling, heavily-salted water. Drop the asparagus in for exactly one minute. That’s it. One minute to change everything I thought I knew about veg. Here’s the science bit: - The boiling water shocks the chlorophyll alive, locking in that wild, electric green. - The heat disables the enzymes that normally turn it grey and floppy. - The cell walls relax just enough to go tender without turning to mush. Then straight into an ice bath, is like the kitchen version of APD shouting “FREEZE” it stops the cooking cold.The result? Snappy, sweet, vibrant asparagus that actually tastes fresh. Like the difference between instant coffee and a barista-made flat white. I took one bite and muttered, “Well, fuck me… that’s incredible, thats what Asparagus is supposed to taste like?!?.”