Showing posts with label line cook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label line cook. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The stage. A guide.

Question of the week/fill in the blanks: on a stage, you should ___. On a stage you should not ___. What makes a good stagiere?
amigadehelado@linecooka stage should pay attention, ask questions, taste things. Get out of the way when neccessary. Don't set stage hours by a "clock"
Tanukipdx@linecook once had a stage grab my favorite yanagiba ($$$$Japanese slicer) and cut themselves a piece of bread w/it. end of stage.
Tanukipdx@linecook a good stage silently&invisibly gets stuff done...like a little mise en place fairy. a bad stage snacks on people's mise
Benjamin_Parks@linecookOn a stage you quietly take notes You should not start telling your glory stories of all the other restaurants you have worked in.
tournant@linecook -should//STFU, do what we tell yo, stay out of the way...should not//show off your skull n knives tattoo, hit on servers
adoxograph@linecook on a stage you should absorb and remember the best and worst of what you see, esp little details
adoxograph@linecookon a stage you should not ever say to yourself well, I'm not getting paid so I don't have to (clean, be on time, fill the blank)
PrixFixeOnline@linecookYou should work your arse off, you should not stand around after finishing a task. Always ask chef for next task, speed is a must.
jrnavlag@linecook U should work and learn. U should not let the pay or lack of it be your drive.  Do your research.  Then shut up about it.
ingridc@linecookYou should shut up, be nice, listen and follow directions. You should not touch a cook's mise unless asked. Or get mouthy, ever.
ingridc@linecook p.s.-last wk's stage told chef he wants to trail our killer pasta man Javi.. so he could show him how to make it right #dieinafire
randomplacement@linecook a good stage contributes to the team and fits in with the team
randomplacement@linecook work and learn, run your mouth
Gchef703@linecook What makes a good stagiere? Hard-Working, Humble, Passionate person who Loves food and is willing to do anything to learn!
Gchef703@linecook
you should not Be a Pre Madonna!!! Should not be late, ask for days
off, breaks or a special jacket to show off to your friends

Gchef703@linecook you should Be a Sponge Listen! Learn! and ask a million questions even if they are stupid questions. ask em!

You're about to explode.  There's too far too much blood and oxygen coursing through your veins, and your eyes your pupils are so dialated that they would catch the attention of any police officer you came across.  You just finished your stage, and it went so beautifully that you're too wound up to eat, or drink, or even talk about it.  This is one of those perfectly fleeting moments, so you just sit there on the bus, missing your stop, so you can soak it all up.  You start Tuesday as the new fish cook.  Unless:

You blew it.  It seemed like your stage was going ok, but right around the end of the first turn the sous told you that you could take off.  You considered protesting, but instead you decided to change, have a smoke and get a bite to eat.  Sitting down at the bar, you order your food and a drink, and sometime later the chef tells you that you're welcome back anytime...but no job is discussed.  And you dont ask about one.  Your stage is over, and you wasted it.  So how did this happen?

Prep:
You went into the restaurant between lunch and dinner service dressed appropriately, resume and knives in hand.  For a week you've been reading the menu on-line, and bringing yourself up to speed on the background of the chef and the restaurant itself.  After your chat with the chef, you let him know that you're ready to stage that evening if he would like.  He tells you to come back Friday instead.  On Friday you show up early, smiling and introducing yourself to any staff that you come across.  You take your knives and a spoon out of your kit that you slimmed down a bit, and settle in with any prep work that they'll give you--herb picking, cutting bread, citrus supremes.  You work quietly and cleanly, with eyes and ears open so you dont miss a thing.  Unless:

You drop into the restaurant as you walk by, and approach the chef who is expediting a fairly busy lunch service.  He doesn't have time to talk to you right now, but tells you to come back that evening at 4 for a stage.  You tell him that you have tickets to a show, but could you come in tomorrow?  He asks for a resume.  You dont have it with you.  When you do show up for your stage, the chef asks you why you want to work in his restaurant; what is it about this place, this food, that turns you on?  You stumble through some bullshit answers.  He smirks at you.  Unpacking your kit you pull out 6 knives, a spatula, tongs, and a handful of spoons.  The sous steps in next to you.
"Um.  What's all that shit for?"
Working through your prep, you dont shut up--about your last job, your opinions on how things should be done, and who you think should win top chef.  No one really responds to you, but you go on anyways. 

Service:
The chef had told you that he needed a fish cook, so this is the station that you stick with through prep, line-up, and into service.  During line up you politely ask if you can taste mise, and as you taste dishes you take notes, and try to memorize the station set-up.  Just before service you sweep the station and wipe down everything for the cook.  You ask the chef if he wants you anywhere else during service, but he says no.  During service you pull plates, and garnish, but generally try to stay out of the way and observe.  Eventually the pace starts to build a bit, and the cook catches your eye.
"Alright.  We're going on 7 fish and 6 scallops.  We'll go together, ok?  You take the scallop dish."
An hour later you're cooking all of the proteins on your own, with the fish cook plating and garnishing for you.  When the sous asks how it's all going for you, you tell him you love it, and want to close the station that night.  There will be no end of shift meal or drink for you.  Just a cold family meal, a watery iced tea, and a nod of approval from the brigade.  Unless:

You bounce around the kitchen getting all up in everyones shit, but not really absorbing anything.  You taste without asking, and more than once you criticize the food.  During one of your rants about how you used to do it at your last job, the grill cook catches looks at you and growls "Well that's so fucking interesting."  Most of your evening is spent leaning against the ice machine, and when you do step in, you're so fucking slow wiping plates and garnishing that the sous knocks the chervil out of your hand and shouts "JUST FUCKING SEND IT!"  You cook zero orders, and when you sit down to eat at the bar, you order an expensive cocktail, and dont tip.  You.  Fucking.  Blew.  It.

There is nothing like a stage in any other field of work.  Sure, athletes have tryouts, and actors have auditions.  A stage is both.  It lasts many hours, is physically and mentally draining, and everyone is already expecting you to fail before you even begin.  It's the culinary equivalent of  getting jumped into a gang.  You get one chance to get it right, and being thrust into an unfamiliar, borderline hostile environment guarantees that if you don't fail outright, you are at very least probably going to make a stupid mistake.

And at the end of your stage, it's all of this pressure that makes succeeding all the more sweet.  To have cooked well, and won over the cooks that let you into their home is a special thing.  It's a re-affirming rite of passage, and a fleeting feeling you only get to enjoy every once in a while.  Don't let your stage just pass on by.


notes.
  • that's not bechamel.
  • holy shit!  I updated finally!
  • podcasts are coming back.  no really.  they are.
  • get some rest.
  • burrito
  • stepping into an open grease trap means youll probably need new shoes.
  • that's pasta water.  not a deep fryer.
  • fish & farm seems like its becoming the new industry night off spot

Quotes and Conversations.

Me, to Gerardo:  Hey dude.  Tell your partner if he mouths off to me again, im gonna tie him up.
Eddie:  Shhiiiiiiieeeeeett.  You wish!  You wish you could enter the dungeon!

(I pinch Eddie's nipple.)
Eddie:  Hey dude!  Not the nipples!
Me:  Oh, im gonna get the nipples.
Eddie:  (pause)  I'm...ticklish.

Me:  You can call him a pussy if you want to.
Eddie:  I don't want to call him a pussy.  That would be the pot calling the kettle black.

Me:  Eddie.  Want me to give you a hand massage?
Eddie:  No.
Me:  With my balls?
Eddie:  That's not a massage.

Goose:  Those new light fixtures are bad.  The block looks good now.
Me:  Yeah dude, they're nice.
Eddie:  And they reduce light pollution.
Me:  Fuck off Ed Begley Jr.
Goose:  Get the fuck outta here with that shit.
Eddie:  Did you know I can ruin any conversation?

"I'm a human snuggie.  You wrap me around you and watch t.v.  I come in different colors.  But mostly white."
-Corey.  Human snuggie.

Gerardo:  Can I borrow your skimmer thingy?
Merrell:  It's called a spider.
Gerardo:  I know a guy named spider.

Me:  Elton John has hairless balls?  What?
Goose and Dega:  I have hairless balls!
Me:  I hate you guys.

Me:  Would you bone down with a guy that wears a lot of gold jewelry?
Dega:  How much gold jewelry?
Me:  A lot.
Dega:  Hell yeah.  Mr. T?
Me:  You'd bone down with Mr. T?

Me:  Wouldn't that be cool?  If you had a hinge on your balls?  You could move them like this.
Goose:  Yeah.  But then you'd have to grease them.  You wouldn't want squeaky balls.

Merrell:  My stomach is getting flat.  See?
(Gerardo is watching the conversation.)
Merrell:  This doesn't concern you Gerardo.
Gerardo:  I was watching you touch yourself.

"I evaluate every stripper on a case by case basis."
-Eddie.

Eddie:  You missed out.  I brought candy yesterday.
Corey:  What are you?  A pervert?  Halloween's over bro.

Eddie:  I think old people are cute.  I saw some old people going into Good Vibrations...
Corey:  Stop.  Stop.  Sentences should not include old people and Good Vibrations.

(Jamie is feeling my abs.)
Jamie:  You should feel his abs.  It's impressive. 
Merrell:  I'd rather feel yours.  (Jamie walks away)
Merrell:  Was that weird?

(Merrell walks into the corner of the stove.)
Me:  Did you just jab your pussy with the oven?
Merrell:  Yes.  Even though I don't have balls, it still hurts.
Me:  Graceful.  You're a real pageant queen.
Merrell:  I'm a fuckin lady.


from top:  sautee, line up, al, a gift from ryan farr, mer-mer's balls, where am i vol. 6, fuck you in your ear, super bowl, you figure it out


Sunday, November 29, 2009

You can't go home again. But you can eat dinner there.

It's two hours after service, and Joey, Angelo and I are standing in a cold, quiet kitchen.  Angelo is layering cured duck legs into confit, while Joey and I de-vein foie gras for terrine.  There's a hotel pan simmering on the stove with a thermometer bobbing in it; our poor attempt at sous vide.  We drink beers, and talk food, and even after a busy service there's a buzz in the room.  Everything feels good.  Simple.  Around 1am we cook eggs for each other, plan the next day, and walk out with a lightness in our step and our heads held high.  Everything is exciting, and constantly changing.  We're line cooks.  In a year everything will be different; but at this moment we're like a child taking their first steps.  We have the whole world ahead of us.

That year passes, and our collective faces have been washed over with a hard gaze and a stack of clipboards.  We're still killing it on the line and learning new techniques and flavors...but things have changed.  Instead of inspiring late night projects, we inventory, and code invoices, and drink.  Heavily.  Day to day operations have become less about growth and more about grinding away.  300 covers is no longer a challenge.  We take on new dishes, and try to out-technique each other, but for the most part the spark has faded.

The adolescence of your cooking career is a lot like your own adolescence.  You're confused, excited, your joints ache and you're probably horny all the time.  You feel like you're falling in love, every day.  It's scary, and fun, and your heart is racing so much that you start to worry about high blood pressure.  You obsess over cookbooks and websites the way a teenager obsesses over pop music and corny vampire novels.  You're just trying to survive, every day.  Is there any way to get back to this place?  To the excitement and hunger you had then?  Would you be regressing?  Is it even possible to re-capture that old feeling?

Every cook wants to become the chef; they crave the responsibility, and the control.  As you move up, you begin to notice something else:  Every chef yearns to be back on the line, cooking again.  They see their cooks, making constant progress, learning so quickly...and its almost painful.  Were you a quick learner that just feels average now?  Are cooks doomed to become that jaded chef that only has those sweet memories of the days on the line?


notes:
  • buddha monk training.  not as easy as you might think.
  • best western has a completely different meaning in our kitchen.
  • one year on twitter.  dang.
  • you ever go back and listen to the music you were into when you were 15, and realize that there are layers and lyrics you never understood?
  • podcast season 2 sometimes feels like throwing confetti into the air and just kinda seeing where it lands.
  • writing this was maddening, and part of me kinda hates it.
quotes and conversations.

Me:  OK Gerardo.  Who would you rather bone down with.  Adam West Batman, or Christian Bale Batman?
Gerardo:  Adam West?
Me:  Yes.  Adam West.  Batman.  Adam fucking West.
Gerardo:  Adam West?
Me:  If you were my kid, I would beat you.  I would just beat the fuck out of you.
Gerardo:  Who's the other guy?
Me:  Christian Bale.
Eddie:  Trick question Gerardo.  George Clooney Batman!
Me:  Of course it's George Clooney Batman.  I hate you Gerardo.

Me:  I had yogurt, granola, a bartlett pear, and 2 cups of coffee.  Then I ran three miles and did 200 push-ups and 200 sit-ups.
Eddie:  I had cassoulet and I boned down.  I win.

Corey:  Hey dude.  Can you help me make pumpkin or squash pasta?
Me:  No.  That would be...wait, really?  Pumpkin pasta?  I mean, I can help you make spinach pasta, or tomato pasta.  We could have tricolore pasta.
Corey:  Hey dude.  Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.
Eddie:  Hey dude!  I brought you chips!

Me:  Who doesn't like getting choked when they're getting humped?
Eddie:  (Raises hand.)

Me:  You  ever use that stuff?  Organic toilet paper?
Ponder:  (defeatedly) This morning.

"Go shave your chin and fuck off."
-Corey

Goose:  See that?  I make a little well..
Me:  That's a really good idea.  You're smart...
Goose and Me:  ...sometimes.

Me:  You never know.  You might like it.
Gerardo:  What's that?
Me:  Sucking dick.
Gerardo:  You never know until you try.
Me:  Well Eddie's not doing anything right now.
Eddie:  Certainly not getting erect, that's for sure.

"I think if I were gonna get a Mt. Rushmore themed tattoo, it would have to be of the bad guys from Superman."
-Maritess

Me:  OK.  You wanna see a tornado and go in the sewers.  What else is in your five year plan Gerardo?
Gerardo:  Lots of stuff...
Me:  Like what?  What the fuck else is in your plan?
Gerardo:  I wanna get my asshole eaten out.

Me:  I just don't get it.  It is spicey.  It says spicey fennel sausage on the menu.
Eddie:  You know who's to blame?  That Rachel Ray bitch.

Goose:  Mer-mer.  Can you bone down right now?
Merrell:  Yeah!
Goose:  Well I didn't know if you were still hurt or not.
Merrell:  Are you offering or something?
Goose:  No.  I just didn't know if you could do it.
Merrell:  If anything i'm more flexible.

"Isn't that narcissism?  When you just fall asleep?"
-Goose.

Me:  You ever hear of that?  People that use a knife when they bone down?
Corey:  Why wouldn't you just use your dick?


from top: cut, mangalitsa, the crew, stained, kozy, gouge away, add spice?, ramen, noodles, pork, where am i?


Monday, November 2, 2009

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



Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The end of the culinary world as you know it.

The world is ending.  Restaurants are closing, chefs are without jobs, and Gourmet will soon be no more.  The food world at large is being dominated by a handful of cooking based reality shows and a million terrible recipe and food blogs.  Trends are turning over so quickly that even your Mom has a calcium chloride/sodium alginate set up, right next to her bread maker and pizza stone.  Things have regressed so far that opening a restaurant seems like suicide.  Let's just open a quesadilla food cart instead! 

Well, I say bullshit to all this doom and gloom.  You realize what's about to happen, right?  You can see what's around to corner, can't you?

Here, in San Francisco, there is a group of chefs that are rightly considered to be at the top of their gameThey're all in the same age group, they all came up paying their dues, and they're all brilliant at their craft.  They're who you want to work for in this town.  When you see them get together, it's like a meeting of the illuminati.  They are the chefs that will be cited as the dominant influences for the next generation.  And that next generation is about to come into its own.  Right now we are standing on the edge of a whole new era of chefs.  Young cooks, that came up through less traditional avenues than our predecessors.  Cooks that are embracing traditional and boundry pushing techniques--often on the same plate.  It's happening already.  Chefs like Charlie Kleinman, Ryan Farr, Brandon Jew, Thomas McNaughton, Chad Newton, Ian Begg, Justin Simoneaux, James Syhabout, Ron Pei and Luis Villavilazquez are all young, driven, and quickly making a name for themselves citywide.  And beyond the traditional kitchen format there are chefs like Anthony Myint and Josh Skenes that aren't just cooking good food, but are challenging the idea of what a restaurant is in the first place.  Add in a crop of hungry and talented sous chefs (Brett Cooper of Coi, Alejandro Rodriguez of Nopa) and I just cant see how an eater wouldn't be foaming at the mouth for what's coming.

Think about it like this:  No era of chefs has ever had access to the quality and variety of farm fresh ingredients that this group does.  No era of chefs is as closely tied to organics and sustainability.  No era of chefs has had their worlds brought closer by means of the internet and social networking like this group does.  And no era of chefs has had such a rabid audience for the next big thing, and the next big chef.  And come to think of it, few eras of chefs care as little about celebrity as this group does.  It's an interesting dynamic; cooks that have seen the cost of selling out, television, and cooking for awards and not for guests.  These next chefs run their kitchens with humility and dignity, and they don't forget the whole point--that cooking is just food, and its supposed to be fun.

I think the most exciting thing is to look forward.  5 years, 10 years, 15 years...where is this new class of chefs going to lead the San Francisco culinary scene?  What will be their impact on the next group of cooks coming up under them?  Who is going to end up running a 4 star kitchen...and who is going to open a quiet neighborhood spot?  The culinary world is not ending.  The future is bright, and we all get to be a part of it.

notes:


quotes and conversations.

"I love you Mer-mer.  I'm going to make you the happiest woman in the world."
-Camaal

Me:  We're on orange alert?
Nick:  Yeah.
Me:  Yeah dude!  That's my favorite alert!  It's one alert away from code red.
Dega:  Which one is Amber alert.
Me:  Amber alert is a kidnapped child.

A tall, cute girl walks by.
Camaal:  Why not.
Paulie:  Because she's twice your size?
Camaal:  So?  Danny is twice my size.
Paulie:  ?....

Goose:  Never suck dick for crack.
Me:  That's good advice.
Ponder.  I have par cooked risotto stuck in my teeth.
Me:  I don't even think we're listening to each other anymore.

EddieWhy did you tell an entire week in October to fuck off?
(3 hours pass)
Goose:  Hey dude, I just wanted you to know that when you told this week to fuck off, you put it for next month. 
Me:  Yeah, that's part of this week sucking.

Me:  I don't think you can base an entire film on an unlikeable character.
Amy:  But it's been done.
Me:  Yeah, in the Phantom Menace with that little kid.
Corey:  I got your phantom menace right here.

Amy:  When you told Brooke about millennial values, did you use your nerd voice?
Me:  No, I used my CNN voice, pented my fingers, and used air quotes.
Amy:  Nice.

Rachel:  You should get Corey to run with you.
Me:  I don't think that's gonna happen.  Corey's gotta stop eating melted brie on triscuits first. 
Corey:  It's baguette ends.  Triscuits are for sliced cheddar.

Merrell is plating, and she's short on a set.
Eddie:  Did I fuck you?
Merrell:  Don't say that Eddie.  It's weird.

Me:  Fire two families.
Goose:  Hey dude, there better not be more than six families left cuz I ain't got more than that.  So if they're tryin' to get me, they're gonna be out of luck cuz I only prepped for..
Me:  FIRETWOFAMILIES!!!!
Goose:  Yes.

Me:  What about you Goose?  Would you pay to see nude pictures of me on the internet?
Goose:  Well, I guess if you were tryin to raise money or something.

Eddie:  Guess what I made yesterday?  Fish and chips.  Only I didn't have potatoes, so I made onion rings instead.
Me:  Wow, that's extra un-healthy.
Eddie:  And that was for breakfast!

Eddie:  I'm going to Sonoma at the end of the month.  The Rancho Gordo outlet store is there, and they have t-shirts.  I'm gonnna get one.
Me:  That's very geeky of you.
Eddie:  I like beans.  They're delicious, and economical...
Me:  You're still talking about beans.

Corey:  Mer-mer, your balls taste good in my mouth.
Merrell:  Thanks Corey.
Me:  Weird, Matty told her the same thing last night.

Me:  OK Gerardo.  If you could bone down with a really hot girl, but she had a robot vagina, would you do it?
Gerardo:  I don't know what that would feel like.
Ponder:  Trick question!  That would be the end of the world.  That's cylon vagina.
Me:  OK.  Same question, but this time it's shark vagina.
Gerardo:...
Eddie:  Trick question!  Sharks don't have vaginas!
Gerardo:...



from top: dega's text, cipollini eyes, burnt bacon, corey and goose, superglue, baby snails, you touch your dick, a brand new vitaprep

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

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:


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