Some kitchens we will never forget. Others?... I'm not sure what happens to those memories.
Farewell Spot 107
Today I said a final farewell to my employer, my employees, and my parking spot. I am going to miss that parking space so much. It was huge, an easy 10x12 ft space on the ground floor of an exclusive parking garage. I could hold a tailgater in that parking space if the situation ever presented itself. My neighbors were a judge with a monster truck and a very quiet public service worker who would back into her parking spot like shes been working there way to long. The rest of the lot consisted of sheriff vehicles coming and going. The security was top notch to say the least. I feel very fortunate to have parked in such a great spot.
It's all up hill from here
Never before in my years of cooking have I gone back to a restaurant after I've resigned. I once walked out on a "chef" and got a raise from the owner to come back after I went to see Phish for a week, but I don't know if that counts. Recently I decided to return to a place I worked so hard to quit. I will not go into the depths of my relationship with that place. We all have love/hate relationships with the kitchens/chefs that challenge us. They change us in ways from which there is no recovery. We start to believe there is a simpler life in the kitchen, and sometimes we seek out the easier hill to climb. In the end we will not be satisfied with the lesser vantage point. My decision was not based on more pay, or less work. I want the better view, the better perspective. How's your vantage point?
New Jobs ~> Risotto
New jobs are exciting and degrading. The first thing you learn is what jobs really suck. They are always the first jobs your new co-workers have you do because they hate them. Can you tray up about ten boxes of pretzels, make some chix parms, clean that case of randoms, and then you can help me prep for my 12:01 cobb salad ass rapping, sorry I only have enough lube for myself but it is your first day. They also suck because you can't find a good damn thing. Some one will send you to grab a simple ingredient from the walk-in and they tell you it will be on shelf 2 of rack X in a clear cambro and labeled correctly. Then you after a search that could only be described as looking for Hoffa, you lower you head and tell your new co-worker that you can't find it. Then together you go and look for the ingredient only to find it on the floor in a bus-tub under the dairy rack labelled "dirty rags". He then explains that on Monday's the dishwasher puts the order away and she is only 4'4" with her Danskos on and can't reach the third shelf.
Once I have worked in a place for a few weeks you can find anything. I notice what containers certain people like to use and if they reach the top shelf? Would they make the extra effort to consolidate the four open quarts of heavy cream?
Working with a bunch of new people can also be interesting, shit it is the basis for 80% of TV today. You must feel everyone out and they are obviously doing the same with you. Where do you live? Where did you go to school? How familiar are you with "reduction sauce" and Do I need to explain what goes on behind the dumpster? I find that their are certain types of people who work in restaurants and you must find which category each new co-worker fits in. (categories of co-workers will be a future post) .
New jobs are also fucking awesome. Someone once told me the best way to raise your intelligence is to associate with smarter people. This idea easily translates to working in kitchens. We have all come across a Hyde Park grad who knows his shit inside and out, and sometimes might even drink GM at 9am mixed with heavy cream. The Hyde Park guys/gals can explain techniques and tell you exactly why they perform certain tasks/recipes their way. Most of them have been to France or at least spoken with someone from France, and generally really care about the food they serve.I am going to use risotto for an example. I will briefly describe how I was taught to make risotto ten years ago and last week.
O.G way- Ingredients needed: Chix stock, rice, butter, s/p
Get your stock simmer and then cut the power back. In a separate pan slightly toast the rice . Then add the stock Stirring consistently. Adding more stock as the previous is absorbed. Finally finish with butter and s/p.
From here you can add anything you want the risotto and make it "blah blah risotto" When I learned this method I was told his is the only way to make risotto. I have made it this way for years and has turned out well, I thought....
The new way I learned:
Ingredients: Chix stock, rice, onion(small dice), garlic chopped(germ removed), butter, s/p
Get your stock hot and sweat the onions and garlic in a separate pot. once the onions and garlic and translucent add the rice and incorporate. Then add a generous amount chix stock stir and let it absorb W/O stirring. Once the liquid is absorb add more, stir once and let it absorb. After the second round of stock you would dump half to cool for later use and add more stock to the remaining rice, stir once and let it absorb. After the third round of stock and your butter and mix the shit out of it to release the starch. adjust with s/p and add any other ingredient. The reason for not stirring is this way all the rice absorbs the liquid evenly. I can tell you from personal experience that stirring consistently will give you uneven texture. My new way cooks everything evenly and still gives you the creamy goodness that is Risotto. I fucking love risotto and now I make the best risotto this side of the Atlantic.
New jobs are always an adventure which is why I think we all switch them up so often. When some tells me they worked some where for 3-5 years I am impressed. Anything more then 5 years and either someone has to good and needs to give it up or the are slightly more insane then I may have orginally thought. We work under enormous amounts of stress in hot, cramped, understaffed, under ventilated, spaces with numerous tools that could result in a bloody death or at least an unpleasant castration. Yet no one asks if you have been to jail, had a DUI, or could pass a drug test. We all know the answers to these questions and I will be happy to stand next to these people, kitchen workers, any day.
Mexicans
I love Mexican workers. They show up on time, bust their ass all day and in most cases all night and don't complain a word. I have never met one that takes a smoke or even a bathroom break . I started at this new place and we have Four Mexicans that work there, 2 girls and 2 boys.
Girl number one is about 50-60 years old and she is crosseyed. She works very slow, but is the sweetest woman in the world. She stands in the hottest spot in the kitchen all day and does all the work work most of us hate. But like all things I love she fucks me hard sometimes without lube. She stands in front of two of our ovens and will turn the timers off and not tell anyone. I know they are loud and I would not want them going off in my ear, but Fucking tell someone. I lost two trays of roasted eggplant, not the end of the world but I do like to leave on time once in a while and Monday is normally a good day for that. But I still LOVE her.
Girl number two is about 20-30 and is also super sweet. I think she likes me, or maybe I want her to like me because I think she is cute. She also works slowly but does an amazing job.
Boy number One is awesome. He makes all the sausages and pre-made sandwiches for the market. But he is a little bitch. He gets upset if no one preps for his sandwiches. He expects everything to be ready when he walks in the door at 5am. And I would agree if he prepped for other people but he doesn't. Mondays are his day off and I got fucked this morning. I don't come in until 8am and sandwiches need to be out front by 11am. Well that doesn't happen when no chicken or eggs are cooked. (we get the best farm fresh eggs from about two miles away) Anyway he still does a lot of things I don't want to do, like make sandwiches Tuesday-Sunday. And next Sunday I will be checking the sandwich Mise before that midget leaves.
My favorite is Boy number two. he is really number one but I want to save the best for last. Out morning dishwasher can barely speak English but knows the words to almost every song played on the radio. Two days ago I heard him singing, in almost perfect English, the only 4 Non-Blondes song I have ever heard. the "I step outside and I get real High" song. I was blown away, then while stunned he said "4Non-Blondes". I was like holy shit you know this song? Well today I was blown away. He knew songs by all of the following bands: Deapche Mode, Right Said Fred, Backstreet Boys, U2, and yes Def Leopard. He knew the name of the band as well as the words. What the fuck, he doesn't know "egg slicer: but knows to strut like a model when Right Said Fred is playing? Sometimes I hand him dishes when he walks by me on the way to the dish station, he looks at me with this confused look like "My are you handing me these?" because you are the dishwasher and they plates are dirty and since you are walking towards the dish station you can take these. But he cleans the hoods every week and is generally awesome. I love him too.
the art of souping
so, i've been at the new place for almost two months, and it's just rad being the soup guy. soup is something i've noodled around with (ha!) for a while now, and have to say, i'm getting pretty good at it. on thursday i made a nice, light chicken bisque, nothing special, but it was good. and had a great profit margin. on friday i came in with the intention of doing either a loaded baked potato soup or bacon, beer and cheese. but, the kitchen murphy's law kicked in and none of my deliveries showed up on time. so i had no dairy. can't make potato soup without dairy. also really low on cheese and needed it for sammiches. so no beer cheese. i could have done some sort of beef soup, but all we have is sirloin and hamburger and sirloin is too expensive for soup and hamburger sucks in it. so i'm looking at just running the chicken bisque again and i absolutely hate running the same soup two lunches in a row. so i cooked up some rice in chicken stock and lemon juice and added a couple handfuls of greek oregano. finished it with lemon zest. boom. lemon chicken and rice. it was awesome. to the customers, it was a totally different soup, to me, it was making money off something we already made money off of. double bonus. and then yesterday, homeless chef (he's our recent culinary school grad, and he's huge, and hairy, and always looks like he just worked a double) noticed our red peppers were about to go bad, the skins were starting to wrinkle pretty bad, and we both went "roast em". so he fired up all the burners and charred the crap out of the peppers. then he made a simple base with onions and tomato stock. then he made a bleu cheese bechamel (which i just wanted to drink like a milkshake), and pureed everything together, and it was AMAZING. simply amazing. and we were just trying to use the peppers before we threw them away and they were a total loss. i love little kitchen victories like that.
also i love homeless chef. i respect the fact that he's a culinary graduate and he respects the fact that i've been kicking ass on the line since he was in grade school. plus we both like ska. he makes my saturdays awesome.
also i love homeless chef. i respect the fact that he's a culinary graduate and he respects the fact that i've been kicking ass on the line since he was in grade school. plus we both like ska. he makes my saturdays awesome.
Juan more Saturday night
I almost cannot contain my excitement. It turns out that my man just had a touch of food poisoning and will be in to-night. Prep is light other than a bunch of garde-manger and a batch of red sauce. Beyond that, its just a matter of (hopefully) selling specials and waiting for the little hand to reach the ten.
sent from my mobile chx parm mise en place
sent from my mobile chx parm mise en place
Friday is the new Thursday
Fridays hold a special place in what remains of my restaurant heart and most of the reasons are rather obvious. My workweek will be over before I know it, 90% of my orders are done and, most importantly, three days of prepping + humping have me ready for almost anything they can throw at me. For a while, Thursdays were our "busy" night and the height of my prep + stress, so Friday was like a joke by the time it finally arrived. This week is even sweeter because our three day Taste of Blank "festival" is over and life returns to semi-abnormal. Worst case scenario is that Friday is a total fiasco, all seventy-three covers order between 7:02 and 8:25 and at the end I feel like I got in a fist fight while giving birth to a rabid gorilla. And I need a drink more than usual. No matter what happens, the end of Friday means that Saturday is close and we all know what that means.
Dished
What is it about doing dishes? After all these years I still crave time in the dish pit? After a busy service when the cooks are smoking cigarettes and sharing prep lists for tomorrow I enjoy a little time helping the dishwasher go through his rush too. Staying sharp on doing dishes provides character. If you can't do dishes with finesse, how can you run a saute station?
