Today I started the professional baking program at the San Francisco Baking Institute. For the next six months, I will spend six hours a day allowing the good and talented people there to mix, ferment, shape, proof, and bake me into the best baker I can be. I will be drilled on dough, tutored on tarts, coached on chocolate, lectured on lamination, guided on gateaux. (Yes, that’s right. I am paying good money to be forced to bake a cake. And they are breaking out the ice skates in Hades.)
Now if you’re anything like me, you may be thinking, how nice for you, Susan, but what is in this for me?
What’s in it for you is a chance to win my textbook. Because I already own a copy of the excellent Advanced Bread and Pastry by Michel Suas (SFBI’s founder and president, by the way), my first-day-of-school-issue copy is up for grabs.
Interested? Of course you are. If you live in the US (sorry, my international friends, but this thing is damn heavy and I’m springing for the shipping), leave a joke here in the comments by 11:59 PM on Friday, September 18. I’m asking for a joke because I will need something to laugh about after springing for the shipping on this book.
Why did the cross-eyed teacher quite his job?
Because he couldn’t control his pupils.
Love your blog and good luck!
Actually, it’s MIL’s Hopi/Pueblo stone & clay bread oven in the back yard that’s in need of a fresh coat of clay to get it back up to baking par. Most houses out here have regularly-used bread and various other outdoor ovens. Serious bakers and roasters.
I only know off color jokes and those requireing hand gestures for the punch line. But I’ll give it a shot.
The following has been adjusted for profession. I’m a teacher. Adjust as you wish to suit yourself or your audience.
A teacher died and went to heaven. There she was met at the pearly gates by none other than St. Peter himself. She was smiled at, and waved at by passing angels. Peter asked her if she’d like to see her accommodations. She replied “Yes, thank you.” He escorted her to a lovely condo overlooking Pearly Gate square. Inside it was completely and luxuriously furnished. The closet was full of designer clothing that all fit perfectly. And there were dozens of shoes in her closet that didn’t pinch at all. The refrigerator was fully stocked, as was the pantry. Every high end appliance and high end pot, pan, dish and utensil you could want was in the kitchen. The windows were draped with silk. The teacher was amazed and thanked Peter. He said “It’s the least we can do for your years of selfless dedication and a lifetime of sacrifice.”
The teacher was absolutely thrilled.
A few days later she noticed a hubbub out in the square. Angels were buffing and polishing. Hedges were clipped, sidewalks were swept and a red carpet was being rolled out. The teacher was sure the Pope had died.
She went down to find out what was going on. She asked a passing angel what all of the preparations were for. He said they were expecting a school administrator”.
The teacher’s face fell. She couldn’t help but look disappointed. She blurted out “I really appreciate everything that’s been done for me, but I can’t believe you’re going through all of this for a school administrator!”
The angel replied “Don’t worry dear. We’re going all out because we just don’t get that many up here.”
Okay. Here’s one that I’ve cleaned up as well as I can.
Surgeons were talking amongst themselves in the doctor’s lounge of a large hospital. They were discussing what patients they preferred to operate on.
One surgeon said, he preferred the Germans. When you opened them up everything was neat and organized and labeled; “pancreas”, “lungs”, “stomach”.
The next surgeon said he loved the Japanese best because they were color-coded; red to red, blue to blue, green to green.
The last surgeon said he preferred to work on San Francisco Baking Institute instructors (adjusted just for you). When asked why he said “no brains, no stomach, no heart, no guts and the mouth and a**h**e are interchangeable.
What do you call a dog with no legs?
It doesn’t matter, he won’t come anyway.
What do you call a rabbit that works in a bakery?
Why, its a Yeaster Bunny!
A young man is at the airport picking up his mother-in-law who is in for a surprise visit. “So, how are you planning to stay?” he asks. “Well, how long are you willing to put up with me?” replies the old lady. “What do you mean, you won’t even stay for dinner?” says son-in-law.
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Best of luck!
ok-this is not a joke but a funny thing that happened in yeast bread class.
we are always in a mad scramble to get all of our required items mixed, proofed & baked on time. Three of us were working on one table and somehow the cream cheese measurement got mixed iup with my butter for cinnamon rolls. The dough looked fine, it proofed OK, but when we took it out of the oven..they were flatter and did not have great texture……..however, they were the best tasting of the lot! I wouldnt recommend substituing cream cheese for butter…I woke up in the middle of the night remembering what went wrong…I havent told the instructor yet.