Sundays normally kick ass for many reasons. First we have a radio just for the kitchen. We can play rap and listen to stand-up comics. The kitchen staff is thin which just makes it easier to get things done. I work on Saturday so I know what I am walking into on Sunday. Does anyone see any problems with that previous sentence? Lets just say it was a good thing I did not have any bong hits this morning. So I walked in and before I even got changed someone asked about soup. Really?? Does it look like I have been hiding in the back making it? Soup OK which one? Mushroom, carrot and pea?? We need all three?? SO at this point my whole plan for the day is being readjusted. No sweat I have time and I did not have any drinks last night so am moving efficiently. So around 840 someone asked about the catering order? What catering order? I look at the catering board first thing in the morning every morning. That order was not there!! Oh you had it out front for some fucked up reason? Is your favorite color clear?? Oh and it is for 9am, as in 20 fucking minutes form now. So it was for 2.5 pounds of mushroom salad. I have never even seen this salad before but knew I has some pasta cooked off and thought we could pull this off. Then I am informed it gets some special pasta. The shaft enters my ass at this point just the tip, but with no lube. The salad gets mushroom pasta, roasted mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, parm, red wine vin, and frisee. So I grab a pot to put water on while the salad guy grab the mushrooms. Oh we have no RWV made, two more inches enter my ass. So the guy who makes sandwiches quickly starts making the dressing. 8:51am water is on, mushrooms are roasting and RWV is being made. We might pull this off with time to spare. Well my short Pastry team cannot reach the back burners on our stove.... 6 more inches enter surprisingly easily. Pastry person did not turn he back burner on!!!!!!! Fuck Me I should still be sleeping it is not even 9am. Three minutes later I got the burner turned back on. The pasta needs 5-7 minutes and I will cutting it close for the deadline. 8:57am pasta hits the H2O and the person arrives to pick up the order. I tell the FOH person to chit-chat but she is as useless as a cutting board at McDonalds. So at 9:03 the pasta was done and I reached to the back to grab it. I was admiring the all the hair on my arm just the other day, thank Jo-bu because it is now gone. So we got it out around 9:07ish how could the day get any worse right. Well I thought I was all smart cooking down my onions together for all the soups in one pot. Well the bread dude makes pretzels and need the front burner for that which is fine, he is fast and neat. But he turns the back burner on high and starts browning my onions and garlic. Two more inches find room in my colon. We are out of onions, you know because it is Sunday and any produce we have was ordered on Friday. Two more inches enter and now I am walking funny. Fuck Fuck Fuck. So I tore apart the walk-in and found some random onions bits. Now it is time to be an asshole, got them going in separate pots this time just so I could fill the stove up and keep people off of it. I do this when I get busy since the stove is my station and I need room to work sometimes. We only have six burners which is not enough.
By noon I had mostly recovered. Soups were made but they needed to be adjusted which is no big deal. The grill, which is outside, was fired up for some quail. Around 2pm my ipod made into the radio and I was loving life. Someone made me a caffeinated elixir which was just what I needed after my morning.
I might have to work Sundays but don't call it brunch.
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