Being present.

Your girlfriend broke up with you.  Your dog died.  Rent is late.  Your car broke down.  Your roof is leaking, and you're so broke that you cant wash your work clothes.  Everything is fucked.  You're completely overwhelmed and miserable, and now you have to catch the bus to work.

Everyone has been there.  Life gets so complicated and messy that spending twelve hours in a kitchen seems impossible...and it's only your Monday.  You walk around in a haze of distraction, barely present.  In the middle of a pick-up, the meat cook nudges up to you and taps you on the shoulder.

"Hey dude.  You gonna plate that risotto?"

They say to leave all of your problems at the door when you come into work.  Be present and aware, every day.  Just cook, and you get to forget about everything.  And to a certain extent, I agree with all of this.  The problem with this approach is that every cook handles their problems differently.  Rudy might get drunk before he comes in.  Leslie will slam her oven and refrigerator doors all night.  Doug will try to laugh it all off, barely containing his misery, and David just might break down and cry around the time the second turn is sitting down.  It's a funny thing to be asked create such highs for others while feeling so fucking low.  You're not a robot.  So I say take a different approach.

Dont ignore it, embrace it.  Let it feed you.  Immerse yourself in it.  Let every single bit of whats on your mind seep in and consume you, to the point where you feel like you cant take it anymore, then go cook.  It will be horrible at first.  You'll feel overwhelmed, slow, and you'll barely be able to tell the difference between your spoons and knives.  You can handle it though;  You barely even notice when you cut and burn yourself anymore.  A little bit of adversity isnt going to kill you either.  As you go on, you'll start to have a little bit of clarity.  The intensity of your problem, coupled with the intensity of cooking, will help you to see things for how they really are.  Then suddenly you'll feel that lightness return to your step, and your focus will shift.  Your problems haven't actually gone away, but you're at least starting to feel better about them.

Cooking is a place to find peace.  In all of the chaos and noise, a good cook is quiet, with their head down.  Their distractions become part of their focus.  Dealing with these problems on the line, instead of shutting off, or repressing, or simply trying to distract oneself can contribute to a stronger, more focused cook.  Sometimes making things really hard is the best way to move forward.


notes:

• when you see us high-fiving, we're not congratulating each other, we're making fun of Marina guys.
• there are no death traps in our kitchen
• when asked to choose between david chang and chez pim, i'm going to choose the former.
• if you get a number, you buy beers.  that's the rule.
• hypothetical thursdays.  there are some very strange scenarios that come up
  

quotes and conversations.

"I gotta admit.  I miss the Dick."
-Ponder.  Was missing Eddie.

"Yeah dude.  I like sardines.  They're quick.  Like my lovemaking."
-Corey

Corey:  Yeah dude!  Get in the fuckin' matrix!
Me:  You want some trance music to get you in the matrix mood?  You've already got the green bandanna on.
Corey:  Hey dude, you used to like house music, and my bandanna's the same color as the matrix.
Me:  I just said that.
Corey:  Really?

Me:  So it's about this aspiring singer and neurotic comedy writer.  Annie Hall.  If she likes it, marry her.
Corey:  And if she likes Best From Behind 2, marry her.
Me:  Best From Behind?
Corey:  Yeah.
Me:  The porno you found at your Grandma's house?
Corey:  Yeah.

"Hey dude.  She wants to pound your masa.  Organically."
-Corey

Gerardo:  Hey Richie?
Me:  Hey Gerardo.  (pause)  I'm listening.  (pause)  Go ahead.  (pause)  WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?
Gerardo:  Have you ever boned down in a walk-in?
Me:  That's kinda a cold place to whip out your dick, don't you think?  You're supposed to bone down in dry storage on bags of flour, or on the linen.
Gerardo:  How about the freezer?

"My name's Corey, not asshole.  Thank you."
-Corey

Me:  OK.  Anything with four legs you have three of.  Anything with feathers or scales you have two of.  Anything made of dough you have one of. 
Eddie:  OK.
Camaal:  I have three legs pito.

Me:  Check out Tony Soprano and his harem of Jersey bitches.
Eddie:  Heh.  You said Jersey bitches.

Me:  What's that smell?  Is it the escarole?
Eddie:  No, it's the cheese.  It smells like noonie.

Me:  Eight out.
Eddie:  Eight out.
Me:  Who's getting ate out?
Eddie:  You just said eight out.
Me:  Who's getting ate out?
Eddie:  You...ahh.  Clever word play like that is going to send you right up Technorati.
Me:  Technorati?  Does that website even exist anymore?
Eddie:  I don't think so.  I think I just dated myself.

"Nah, i'm serious.  I have pictures of it.  I was pettin' a goat!"
-Goose

Me:  He looks like an evil televangelist.
Paulie:  (laughs) Is there such a thing as a good televangelist?
Me:  No.  But I mean evil like the televangelist in the movie Dragnet.


from top:  bistecca alla fiorentina, dario ceccini, corey and al, mer-mer, may the tortas be with you, asshole, oh paulie, ?, damage, pasta, duck

Do you cook?

You've been on the meat station for eight months now, and after rotating through hot apps, pasta, and fish, you feel like you've found your niche.  In the beginning it was all bad;  missed temps, scorched lamb saddles, and over salted steaks.  But as time went on, you started to kill it.  There was fluidity in your movements, and a confidence in your approach.  You were quickly accepted as a member of the "A" team.  Service stopped being a struggle, and instead became second nature.  If your brigade was a sports team, you would easily be one of the star players.  Your ego grew a bit, but that was ok.  You really felt like a cook.

It's just past midnight on Saturday, and you're at the bar with your crew.  Over a handful of beers and shots, you talk shit, and brag about how no one else can hold down your station like you do.  Everyone is patting themselves on the back, and feeling cocky.  When cooks from a chain restaurant down the street walk in, everyone puffs their chest out a bit more; your crew is the made up of the best cooks in town, and you know it.  You notice that your sous isn't having any part of the festivities, and is casting a sideways glance at you in particular...but you ignore it and take another shot.

The next day you're breezing through prep, having a laugh with your crew, and still talking shit.  As you wipe down your station, your sous walks over and places an onion in front of you.
"What's up?"
"Brunoise.  I'm timing you.  Go."
You hear the beep of his stopwatch as he looks sternly at you.  At first you laugh...then you realize he's not joking. 
"Go motherfucker.  I said im timing you."
You halve the onion, peel it, and a short time later, you're done.  He runs his hand through your brunoise, and holds up the ends of the onion, still whole.
"What about these?"
You say nothing.  He sifts through the brunoise, picking out any irregular pieces.
"And this.  It's not very uniform, is it?  That took you over 2 minutes.  The extern does it faster than you." 
He steps in closer to you.
"This was a fucking onion.  You talk a big game for a guy that barely brunoise."

A cook that works dinner service is a different animal than the am prep cook.  PM cooks have more moves and a different energy level...but what about their skill set?  An am cook typically handles the bulk of the evenings prep work...while holding down a lunch station.  They braise your proteins, roast your veg, and generally make sure things are nice and tidy for when you step onto the station.  They receive none of the praise of the dinner cook...even though the PM shift is essentially just heating things up.  The pm shift can bang out hundreds of covers, but can they actually cook?

Working at night, you risk becoming a line monkey.  Your entire service is spent in the haze of an adrenaline rush, constantly dipping and diving, just trying to keep things moving.  It's easy to become lost in this...to start to feel like you're progressing.  But is your skill set diminishing?  Have you stuck with the basics?  When you think about it, cooking a dinner service sometimes involves very little actual cooking.  You might be a hardcore sautee cook, or a creative genius when it comes to your menu...but when was the last time you made pasta, from start to finish?  Have you ever worked a prep shift?  Are you relying on someone else to do the bulk of your work?  Do you deserve to be called a "linecook?"

notes:

• ty-flo?  that sounds like a bathroom problem. -eddie lau (hotfoodporn)
• if you were to cook as fast and hard as you could--like the deepest weeds you had ever been in--how long could you sustain that pace?
• Not so many people comment anymore.  Nowadays it's all about the twitter replies on my posts.
• Eddie Dick used to be such a nice boy before he started working at Nopa.
• why do all hapa guys have the same haircut?

quotes and conversations.


"The thing I like about Project Runway is that it's a developmental experience."
-Eddie.  Likes Project Runway.

Merrell walks in with two guys.
"That better be your brother Mer-Mer or you're gonna be in trouble."
-Camaal.  Protective.

Me:  OK, add an osso bucco.
Eddie:  OK.  Two pork, two pasta, one fish.
Me:  No.  Two pork, fish, pasta, osso bucco.
Eddie:  OK.
Me:  Did I say pasta?
Eddie:  I think so.
Me:...
Eddie:  OK, so two pork, one osso, one fish, one pasta.
Me:  No asshole!  Two pastas!

Me:  Pick up galactic.  Light speed to the window.  Faster than twelve parsecs.
Maritess:  What?
Me:  You know.  Twelve parsecs.  The Kessel Run.  Fast enough for you old man?
Maritess:  What is that?
Me:  Star Wars dude! 
Maritess:  Which movie?
Me:  A New Hope!  When Obi Wan Kenobi meets Han Solo in the cantina?  Obi Wan asks if the Millenium Falcon is fast, and Han Solo says it made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs, fast enough for you old man? 
Maritess:...
Me:  Bullseyeing wamp rats in my T-16 back home?
Maritess:...(laughs)
Me:  Arrgh.

"Ill tell you what though.  C&C Music Factory had some kick ass music video's."
-Ponder.  Likes early 90's music videos.

Me:  Eddie, if my dick were made of cheerios, would you pour milk all over it and eat it with a spoon?
Eddie:  Are strawberries involved?
Me:  Absolutely.
Eddie.  Then yes.

Me:  38% said yes, 22% were undecided, and 40% said no.
Goose:  What about the other 10%?
Me:  38 plus 22 is 60.
Goose:  You see?  I didn't do that good in school.
Me:  Well in school.

"If I have my dick punched through with a metal rod, i'm not gonna make it into work."
-Eddie.  Getting pierced.

Me:  Eddie, wanna get a tattoo?
Eddie:  No.
Camaal:  A butterfly on your ass?

Goose:  Hey dude, can I sing?
Me:  No.
Goose:  Can I sing R. Kelly?
Me:  No.  I will fucking stab you.
Eddie:  Whatta you got against a little bump and grind?

Me:  You wanna be my agent?  I'll give you 2% of whatever I get.
Corey:  Word.  I'll do that shit for free.
Me:  O.K.  You're doing it for free.  It's a deal.
Corey:  No dude!  2%!  I need to buy baby shoes.

Me:  You see Maritess, I spent extra time this week making hypertext links so everything would be extra relevant, and I dont think anyone clicked on them. 
Maritess:  I did!  I clicked on all of them!
Me:  Even shark vagina?
Maritess:  Yes!
Eddie:  I didn't click on shark vagina.  I was there.

Me:  Right Gerardo?  Mer-mer should just bone down nasty style and get it over with.
Gerardo:  I like to use the word raunchy.


from top:  paris, i heart dc, saba glazed cipollini, beautiful black cod, snickers, tattoo, sardines, construction, divis couture, look closely

A good sin?

"You cannot humiliate the person who feels pride." -Cesar Chavez
"In general, pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes." -John Ruskin
"The truly proud man knows neither superiors nor inferiors. The first he does not admit of; the last he does not concern himself about." -William Hazlitt
"Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves; vanity, to what we would have others think of us." -Jane Austen
"There is this paradox in pride; it makes some men ridiculous, but prevents others from becoming so." -Charles Caleb Colton
"Pride comes before a fall." -Proverbs

The last five minutes of a thirty plate pickup on a busy night happen in a time warp. The momentum of four or five different stations slowly building together into an all out sprint while everyone rushes to plate, garnish, and clean plates before they head to the pass is one of the most dangerously beautiful things you could ever see. It's where finesse shows it's true face; elegant swipes of sauce, and garnishes placed like they were made of the most delicate material on earth. An efficient cook will take an extra moment right before the plate goes up to give the plate a quarter turn, adjust their gaze, then say goodbye forever. It's a picture of impermanence. Make it beautiful, wipe it clean, send it on its way. Until this happens:

Randy is on hot apps, and is behind on the pickup. He blasts his soup, scorching the bottom a bit, and when he goes to plate, the soup splatters and hisses on the edge of the pot. His plates end up with spots all over them, and he forgets to wipe his fingers off, leaving little fingerprints everywhere. The plates come back to be cleaned, and at the end of it all Randy is left getting shredded by the Chef de Cuisine as he stares at the floor.

"Are you giving up? It seems like you're just giving up. If you don't care anymore just tell me."
"I still care chef."
"Because seriously, I can get someone else. That was fucked."
"No chef, I can do it."
"Look, just care more. Take a little pride you motherfucker."

Pride. It's complicated. A cook that takes pride in their work will put out food that's elegant and delicious. They take the extra time to do things correctly the first time. They taste, and obsess, and relish in the glow of a happy guest. Every now and then, amidst the scowls and glares, you'll see a brief, soft smile flash across their face. You might not realize it, but they're enjoying themselves. Ego has almost nothing to do with their cooking. Instead you get a perfect blend of confidence tempered by humility. They respect tradition, and their fellow cooks. The idea of failing is almost as scary as getting into a fight for the first time. So they ball up their fists, puff out their chests, and go in swinging.

A cook that's prideful is a different thing altogether. They spend all their time in past (the last place I worked did this blahblah) or in the future (when I have my own place im gonna go in the dining room and tell the guest to fuck off!) and little to no time in the actual moment. A prideful cook feels a sense of entitlement, and believes they are the standard bearer when it comes to sanitation, mise, and life in general. They believe that they should be sous chef, or chef de cuisine, and will do anything to undermine those above them. They have a hard time believing that they could have made a mistake. (but I made it, how could it be wrong?) When things get busy an aura of hatred surrounds them. Care and love go out the window--if it was even there to begin with. At the end of service, theirs is the loudest voice; quick to point others failures and their own triumphs. In their own mind they are the image of what a cook should be. And this is just the tip of where the problems lie.

Throughout your career you're going to work with an unusual cross section of people. Social deviants, trust fund kids, and registered green party voters. Pride won't come easily to all of them. There will be too many distractions and pressures for them to focus in and just cook. They will forget why they got into restaurant life in the first place--if the even knew in the first place at all. In time, as they find their place in the kitchen, and their own style, pride will start to show its face. And as long as this person's goals stay in place, and their successes are coupled with humbling failure, there will be a beautiful, natural balance. And there is no other way.

notes:

• how did i miss my homie writing up our bbq?
• oh come on now. thanks for bringing on trouble.
• Jesse came into Nopa and wrote about it here. he's also putting on notoberfest with Ryan Farr on October 10th.
• have you seen Violet's URL shortener?
• 8 pages in, and my moleskin is falling apart
• that sound you heard this afternoon was brett favre breaking my damn heart
• really chef2chef? top 100 food blogs? does this site even count as a food blog anymore?
• hm.
  
• thank you interpol, avett brothers, and tv on the radio for getting me where I needed to go this week

quotes and conversations. extended sexy tv pop culture science fiction folsom street fair edition.

"Never trust a cook that wear cologne."
-Corey. Prefers a natural musk.

Ponder: Fuckin' Stand By Me. Makes me cry every time.
Me: You are the corniest tattooed punk guy I know.
Ponder: His boy gets stabbed in the throat and dies.
Me, to Merrell: Will you dab that up for him?
(Long pause)
Merrell: Oh. Did you mean his vagina?

Gerardo: I was trying to be gentile.
Me: Gerardo, gentile and gentle are not the same thing.

"Usually you give me four more inches and I don't have to bend over as much."
-Ponder. Likes a taller prep table and cutting board.

Me: So there's this show called Moonlighting. And it starred Bruce Willis and Cybil Shepard. They ran a detective agency, and got into adventures, and it was great because they never slept together. It was just platonic with this sexual tension. Until the third season where they fucked it all up. So why am I telling you this? Because sometimes its better to have the platonic friendship. Sometimes it's better not to sleep with the girl. Got it?
Camaal: (Nods)
Me: Paulie, you catch all that?
Paulie: Bruce Willis with hair?
(45 Minutes pass)
Me: It's like Scully and Mulder on the X-Files.
Camaal: Si, claro.

Eddie: Dude, you didn't tell me boning down with 400 people would hurt so much.
Me: Well have you ever boned down two times in a row? It hurts.
Goose: Yeah, but sometimes you just gotta push through.

Me: It's like Bosom Buddies. Only you guys hate each other. But im not sure who's Tom Hanks, and who's the other guy.
Corey: Peter Scolari. Don't ask me how I knew that.

Merrell: I just don't like that they think they can act any way they want because they're pretty.
Me: But look at Ponder.
Goose: Look at me!
Ponder: I'm not sure if we just made our point or lost the argument.

Me: Don't you feel like you have more energy now that you're eating better?
Merrell: About the same.
Me: Don't you feel like you have more energy now that you're drinking less?
Merrell: I'm not really drinking less.

"What kind of dom are you? You're not into leather??"
-Eddie. A good leather loving dom.

Eddie: Next time I want to see you pound that cheese like you fuckin' mean it.
Me: Who's being the dom now?
Eddie: Tables are turned huh?
Me: Yeah. I will slap you right in the face.
Eddie: On my giant chin.

Me: Did you just say sci-fi fantasies?
Eddie: Yeah, sci-fi.
Me: Well, I did write that erotic fan fiction centered around Princess Leia's copper bikini.
Eddie: Did you really?
Me: Yes. That's what I did yesterday.
Eddie: Well? You are a writer...
Me: Go cut a flatbread you whore.

Ponder: Where's Stevie Wonder? I don't wanna get caught staring.
Me: Dude, he's blind.
Ponder: I know he's blind!!

"You're looking a little yellow. No, not racially."
-Merrell. Racially sensitive.


from top: eddie's 28th, sauerkraut, alinea style, merrell's dumb ass nachos, menu writing, black cod, dinner, family menu, safe word, pray 4 dylan

Moderation.

I used to love it.  Getting off work after a busy night, salt still sticking to my forearms, I would head to the bar with my crew.  Once there we quickly put away a shot and a beer, and another, and another.  Then Kevin, the server that had almost 2k in sales (half coming in wine) would show up, start buying rounds, and the night would melt into oblivion.  Sometime around 3:30 I would find myself stumbling out of a dingy cooks apartment, wondering how to get home without killing myself.  The next day we would all wake up in absolute pain, head into work, and sweat it out on the stoves with few laughs between us.  There was a pattern to it, and we rarely strayed from it.  It was our right.  We were cooks. 

The thing is that once you get into the cooks lifestyle: the heat, the stress, the camaraderie, and the eventual reward at the end of it all...it becomes hard to let go of.  It starts to become less about a reward for yourselves at the end of the night and more about your nightly plans.  Everyone's sharpness becomes just a little more dull...but you tell yourself that its ok.  The team is stronger now...closer.  Isn't it?

Eventually, things start to fray.  Your grill guy, who already has a nasty habit of a liter of Pepsi and blunt to the head in the parking lot before work starts making frequent trips to bathroom during service.  His eyes are alert, but his jaw and edgy demeanor tell a different tale.  The food runner that cant remember table numbers was up until 5am with him doing coke, and they're both starting to make your evening very difficult.  Manuel, your fastest sautee cook has started asking for booze mid shift to quell his hangover, and by the end of the night everyone has had a sip.  Two months later you're dumber, slower, and fat.  But fuck it, because you're a real cook, right?

But here's the rub.  There are a lot of cooks out there that are smarter, more talented, and far more driven.  And they didnt stay up until 5am last night doing coke.  They don't drink on their shift.  They are so singularly motivated to be the best, to move up, and move on that with every hangover you get, they're leaving you behind.  Think about the crew at Alinea, or Laundry.  How can there be room for the fog of a big night out when you have a 15 hour day and the standard of perfection weighing on you?

By nature we are indulgent people.  Our jobs center around taking care of others.  We're surrounded by great food, lots of wine and booze, and like minded folks that got into this job because the monotony of a nine to five was never a viable option.  Cooks that think they're just doing whats expected are at best, a cliche.  At their worst, theyre alcoholics, or drugs addicts.  There is such a great deal of discipline in our work.  Why isn't that carrying over into our free time?

It's important to find a balance.  It's important to not take yourself too seriously, and not let the pressures of the job cave you in.  I think it's also important to remember that at the end of the day there is a greater responsibility to your craft.  It's not just about the daily drudgery--there has to be a bigger goal.  Life isn't just decaying slowly. 

"All things in moderation, including moderation."

— Mark Twain

notes:

• there was talk this week of mongoose on all fours, wearing a leash and collar, being held by ponder.  
• no, there was no writing in blood on my mirror.  but thank you for your concern.
• oh snap.
• who knew that pork bones are so hard to come by?
• congratulations to Ryan Farr and Cessaly on the birth of their new baby boy!
• im down for composting, but this little green bin the city gave me just isn't cutting it

quotes and conversations.


I'm pouring molasses into a pot.
Me:  Black tar heroin...
Goose:  I smoke that stuff in rehab one time.
Me:  Goose, rehab isn't for smoking black tar heroin!  It's for picking up on vulnerable women!

"Abuelita.  I like Grandmas."
-Camaal

Corey:  Hey dude, if I were single would you bone down with me?
Me:  No.  (long pause)  If I were single would you bone down with me?
Corey:  Hell yeah dude.
Me:  I thought so.  Sorry about that.

Me:  What color is that guys fixie?
Dega:  He doesn't ride a fixie.  Didn't you see how fat he is?

Goose:  Who got the plastic wrap?
Merrell:  Yo mama.
Goose:  My mama didn't use plastic wrap.  That's how I came to be.

"I not that beautiful, I not that handsome.  But I am fucking chingon."
-Camaal.

"I guess for some people it would feel good to hold someone's cock, but for me it would be really, really strange."
-Mongoose.




from top:  soba, moleskins, farms up/hoes down?, figs and walnuts, snails in the spinach, they match, pappardelle, vongole, jellyfish, sloppy joe on bread, ramen stock, family meal showdown, ramen, noodles, a clean kitchen