Employment has become a tentative thing these days.

Sure, we can cling to our jobs like five-years-olds grappling for a mother's leg the first morning of kindergarten. But inevitably we'll still end up ditched in a classroom full of strangers, hiding behind the "Magic Mirror" and eating crayons to pass the time.

The line separating "gainfully employed" and "parent's basement" has become very, very fine. The question is: What's your backup plan?

I admit I've ruminated on alternative careers should things go way south for me here (perhaps Professional Beeswax Lip Balm Maker).

So when I got word that a couple of colleagues and I would be testing our culinary skills in the Grill Room kitchen, four words came to mind: Master Chef Shannon Bryan. (Did you hear that? Sounded a bit like Destiny.)

The kitchen expedition is the basis of a story running in the April 16 issue of Switch magazine. Switch editor Karen Beaudoin, RaisingMaine.com producer Wendy Almeida and I had the happy opportunity to work alongside Chef Harding Lee Smith (of Grill Room, Front Room and soon-to-open Corner Room fame).

Being a humble sort, I could only imagine how the accolades would come flooding the moment I first lifted a sharpened carving knife from the…uh…you know, that wooden thingy with the slits in it.

[Fred J. Field photos]

So maybe my proficiency in the kitchen is slightly lacking. Maybe my notion of a six-course meal is limited to five well-poured bowls of Grape Nuts and a cookie.

But I was sure to thrive under the chef's tutelage.

Things started on the up and up. I was presented with a massive portion of beef, the likes of which I imagined had never been seen before.

Chef Harding set a fine fat-cutting example and I was able to follow suit without royally butchering the meat or cutting off any of the all-important phalanges.

But then, the "chive situation." Those harmless-looking strands of herb that refused to be chopped into small, uniform fragments. Chef Harding was clearly in cahoots with the slender, green devils, as he was able to finely divide them with an easy shake of the knife.

My chopping resulted in a weed-wackered mess. To add to the insult, once the chives were dispelled into a container, I knocked it over. Just a little classy kitchen maneuvering.

Chives aside, I masterfully scored the foie gras and dug marrow from a bone as though I'd been doing it for years (maybe I have, maybe I haven't. My lawyer has advised me not to discuss it).

I also learned that pressing hardboiled egg through small holes in a strange metal apparatus (a process Chef Harding called "seething") ain't too glamorous - but it's all in the name of presentation.

Somehow we three novices prepared a six-course meal that (in my humble opinion) rivaled the masters. The meals were served to some of the Grill Room staff - none of whom turned up their noses or commented on the sad-looking chives. I'd say the meal was a success.

My future career as an award-winning chef? The chives killed that dream.

But I still think "Experienced egg seether" would look good on a resumé.