White Jacket Required Read Online Free Page A

his waist than advised.
    All of a sudden, Cherie turned around and paused. “We’re going to walk into this classroom kitchen now, so that you all can get a glimpse of what really goes on behind the scenes here. This is Chef Jason’s Basic Skills Two class, and I think the students are about to eat dessert—you all are in luck!”
    Inside, the air smelled of vanilla and burnt sugar; about ten students stood around a long metal table. There were slices of what appeared to be cheesecake on small white plates and squeeze bottles full of bright red liquid (raspberry sauce?) scattered around. Dishes were stacked up near the sink in the back, and the tables were filled with knives, spoons, and metal whisks. The students were chatting amongst themselves while the chef sat in the back, typing on a desktop computer. For the first time that afternoon, things started to seem real to me, and I was excited to be in on the action. Our tour guide asked one of the students if he could explain to us what they were making.
    â€œWell, we just finished making Beef Wellington, and now this here is New York–style cheesecake with raspberry coulis.” He gestured toward the slice of cake on the plate in front him, clearly very proud of his creation. “Y’all want to try a bite? It’s real good, I promise!” He handed out forks to the three of us and smiled. Never being one to turn down dessert, I immediately dug my fork in. The cheesecake was thick and rich, with a lovely tang.
    â€œThis is fantastic!” I said enthusiastically as I took a bite of the graham cracker crust. It really was fantastic, and at that moment I felt for the first time that this could really be the right place for me. Baking cheesecake all day? I could certainly handle that.
    The tour ended with us back at the admissions office, and I said good-bye and good luck to Laurie as she headed out. “Think you’ll be back?” she asked me.
    I just shrugged. “We’ll see! You never know!”
    I pulled out of the school parking lot and drove to meet Helen, my childhood best friend. She had called me out of the blue a week ago and asked me if we could meet for lunch. We hadn’t seen each other at all for about three years, and I was really looking forward to catching up. We’d met on a second-grade class trip to a science museum, and from that moment on, we were inseparable. When we were younger, our moms were best friends as well, and over the years we took countless family vacations together. Most of my best childhood memories involved Helen. At one time, we had been as close as sisters, but after graduating from high school and heading away to college, we’d stopped being in constant communication. Our daily phone calls slowly turned into weekly, then monthly, and soon, we would chat only every few months, laughing about stories from when we were little, but lacking more recent shared experiences to talk about. I missed my best friend, but it just seemed as if we’d had more in common as preteens than we did now, as women entering adulthood. Still, I couldn’t wait to see her and hear the latest news in her life. About two months earlier, my mom had told me that she talked to Helen’s mother and learned that Helen was moving to Orlando to become a police officer. At the time, I laughed hysterically, not being able to picture sweet, beautiful Helen carrying a gun and a badge. I was anxious to get the full scoop today.
    Helen jumped up from her seat and gave me a huge hug the moment I walked through the doors at P.F. Chang’s.
    â€œHi!” I said with a big smile. “You look so gorgeous! I’ve missed you so much!”
    Helen did look gorgeous, with her designer T-shirt, fashionable ripped jeans, and large Prada purse. “I want to hear everything!” she told me as we sat down.
    â€œWell,” I told her. “I’m in Orlando looking at going to culinary school,