A Prescription for Learning
by Adam G. Hait
I'm a retired pharmacist and stay-at-home dad with a 15- and 11-year-old. Cooking is one of my favorite hobbies, and I have always wanted to attend cooking school. So I decided to come to CIA Boot Camp, and convinced my wife Alexis Sacks to join me. We got in the car and headed to Hyde Park from New Jersey.
We quickly learned why the CIA calls this program Culinary Boot Camp. In the lecture after breakfast, we were told what we had to cook, and after a two-minute tour of the kitchen, the starting flag was lowered. The students in my group took to their stations, but after an hour, none of us had accomplished anything! We had no idea how we would be ready to plate in just two more hours. Alexis and I looked at each other—she was stressed out and so was I. But it was also sort of funny.
By day two, my group was no longer lost and overwhelmed. We actually planned out our luncheon meal and stayed on top of our dishes. I was most proud of the goose I prepared; I had never cooked it before, but it came out perfectly. I am also proud of the rolls I made from scratch, from a recipe Chef Skibitcky shared off the top of his head. I surprised myself by learning how to tie a roast together, and then applied the technique to the turkey and prime rib. I am confident I now have this down.
Bottom line: if you like to cook and are not afraid to turn up the heat, CIA Culinary Boot Camp is an amazing experience. In fact, it inspired me to undertake a culinary adventure of my own. I'm going to work at my favorite restaurant on the planet: Mario's Bistro on the island of St. Martin. I have been eating at this restaurant for years, and this past summer, my parents visited the island and told Mario of my love of cooking and baking. He invited me back for a one-week internship. I hope to learn some of his cooking secrets—his roasted duck is amazing—as well as some French.
Will this be the beginning of a career change for me? Who knows? Maybe sometime in the near future I will enroll at the CIA.
