I finished up my fourth toque blanche (white hat) today, and I learned a few things along the way.
The first thing I discovered was a major engineering error.
I made the band too short to fit its intended recipient.
No waste, however, because Little Man still has a wee noggin and that new kitchen.
I did a bit of online checking for some facts about the design and origin of the chef's hat.
Several sources indicate that the number of pleats in the hat is a status symbol; some have exactly 100 pleats, which supposedly indicates the number of ways the chef can prepare an egg.
(As you can see, mine are gathered. So I guess we won't be eating any omelets.)
One theory states that the height of the hat once indicated the chef's rank or status; the taller the hat, the greater the rank.
I did not design my hats with that bit of information in mind.
I think my little great-neice and great-nephew will be satisfied with theirs,...
...but I'm pretty sure my Big Brudder would want his hat so tall that ceiling fans would present a risk.
As it is, his hat is a symbol of the love and forgiveness which has graced our lives.
He is, after all, the brudder who once tricked me into holding his kite string for him - a little girl, all alone in the fading daylight - while he went home for dinner.
But, all is forgiven.
I'm not bitter.
Really.
I'm not.