another opening of another show
My days are so long that they generate long entries, but I'll try to keep this brief..
After going to bed at about 00:15, I got up to the alarm at 05:02. I made coffee, shaved, took a whore bath, brushed my teeth, and got back into the clown pants. Bernie, bless him, got up and took me to the hotel; the bus hadn't yet started running.
The GM was already in her office when I walked up at 05:56, and the F&B manager walked up as I headed for the kitchen. Both of them had come in early to intercept my former boss and currently chronically absent sous in case he showed up for the opening shift.He had been told not to come to work until he had met with them.
I fired up the line and planned what I would serve for breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, and French toast to go with the bagels, cream cheese, granola, yogurt, and fruit on the buffet. I got to work and started service at 07:00, when the first function of the day started. I cooked eggs over easy, over medium, and scrambled for the group of 8. I refilled the buffet a couple of times between placing grocery and bread orders, making signs for my back gate and delivery door, and planning and prepping for lunch with the mayor.
My sous came to the meeting at 11:30 and was let go. Reportedly he blamed me, the F&B manager, and the GM for not giving him enough of a chance, and me for "going behind (his) back." His wife called the kitchen while I was working on orders in my office. I came to the phone and she identified herself, then said "I just wanted to THANK you for ruining ALL our lives" before I hung up on her. It rattled me, considering the violent stories her husband had told me about his life and how much coke they reportedly do. My theory is that he wanted to quit but she wouldn't let him, so he just stopped going to work. I don't think he'll cause me any trouble, though I wish he didn't know where I live, but his wife is a loose cannon. I took several deep breaths and went back to work.
As lunch approached, the GM started to hover, looking concerned. I was working steadily to prepare flank steak, grilled salmon, mushroom demiglace, beurre blanc, orzo, sautéed baby carrots, and grilled asparagus. I took the lunch prep out of the walk-n and set up the line. The boss decided I needed some help and asked when Joe was scheduled to arrive. I told her I scheduled him for noon, but she called him and left a message to come in as soon as he could. I was well-prepared and didn't need his help, really, though I should have brought him in at 11. He got in a bit before noon and I went over the lunch menu with him. We got a couple of à la carte orders and put them together and got them served before the lunch was called for. The GM donned an apron and helped plate up, freeing Joe to work any tickets that came in. We knocked out the lunch and the GM stepped off the line. Joe and I finished up the service and started working out dinner prep list.
The GM and F&B manager came in to find out if I had enough dishes for the dessert (crème brûlée, ugh) for tomorrow's luncheon for 50. I didn't, and we talked about renting the little quiche dishes vs. buying them. We called a restaurant supply house here and had them set aside two dozen for later pickup. Joe admirably banged out the prep list I had given him and kept asking for more work. I continue to think he was a good hire.
Roy called to say he'd be a bit late. He got in and I took the GM's car and the hotel's check downtown and picked up the dishes at about 16:40. I stopped at the Hotel Congress and shook hands with several people there and picked up my check. I dropped the keys and dishes at the hotel and left about 17:55.
I finally felt comfortable enough to leave other people in charge of my kitchen. It felt good.
I rode from the Lodge down Alvernon about a mile and a half to 22nd St., then headed east after calling Suntran to find out that the next bus wouldn't be by for almost a half hour. I rode east another mile and a half, almost to Craycroft, in a stiff, cold headwind before sitting down to wait for the bus. Today's bonus was a skinny, shavenheaded, trim-mustached, angular-jawed, dimpled, furry-armed, talkative bus-driving Teamster from Brooklyn. He was so goddamn gorgeous I had to try not to stare (after sitting further front than I ever do so I could see him). I alighted at Kolb, locked my bike to the grocery-cart corral at Fry's, and deposited my check. I bought some Pringles and two cheap pressed-sawdust logs, stuffed 'em in my backpack, and headed for home.
One of the reasons I chose my room in Bernie's house was the fireplace. I now have a silly little fire blazing away (for small values of "blazing") and it isn't quite so cold.
Spongebob and Sandy are fighting the giant worm and I'm about to crash. Lunch for the 50 tomorrow and then I'm leaving, and taking Friday off. Woohoo! *feebly jumps up and down*
After going to bed at about 00:15, I got up to the alarm at 05:02. I made coffee, shaved, took a whore bath, brushed my teeth, and got back into the clown pants. Bernie, bless him, got up and took me to the hotel; the bus hadn't yet started running.
The GM was already in her office when I walked up at 05:56, and the F&B manager walked up as I headed for the kitchen. Both of them had come in early to intercept my former boss and currently chronically absent sous in case he showed up for the opening shift.He had been told not to come to work until he had met with them.
I fired up the line and planned what I would serve for breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, and French toast to go with the bagels, cream cheese, granola, yogurt, and fruit on the buffet. I got to work and started service at 07:00, when the first function of the day started. I cooked eggs over easy, over medium, and scrambled for the group of 8. I refilled the buffet a couple of times between placing grocery and bread orders, making signs for my back gate and delivery door, and planning and prepping for lunch with the mayor.
My sous came to the meeting at 11:30 and was let go. Reportedly he blamed me, the F&B manager, and the GM for not giving him enough of a chance, and me for "going behind (his) back." His wife called the kitchen while I was working on orders in my office. I came to the phone and she identified herself, then said "I just wanted to THANK you for ruining ALL our lives" before I hung up on her. It rattled me, considering the violent stories her husband had told me about his life and how much coke they reportedly do. My theory is that he wanted to quit but she wouldn't let him, so he just stopped going to work. I don't think he'll cause me any trouble, though I wish he didn't know where I live, but his wife is a loose cannon. I took several deep breaths and went back to work.
As lunch approached, the GM started to hover, looking concerned. I was working steadily to prepare flank steak, grilled salmon, mushroom demiglace, beurre blanc, orzo, sautéed baby carrots, and grilled asparagus. I took the lunch prep out of the walk-n and set up the line. The boss decided I needed some help and asked when Joe was scheduled to arrive. I told her I scheduled him for noon, but she called him and left a message to come in as soon as he could. I was well-prepared and didn't need his help, really, though I should have brought him in at 11. He got in a bit before noon and I went over the lunch menu with him. We got a couple of à la carte orders and put them together and got them served before the lunch was called for. The GM donned an apron and helped plate up, freeing Joe to work any tickets that came in. We knocked out the lunch and the GM stepped off the line. Joe and I finished up the service and started working out dinner prep list.
The GM and F&B manager came in to find out if I had enough dishes for the dessert (crème brûlée, ugh) for tomorrow's luncheon for 50. I didn't, and we talked about renting the little quiche dishes vs. buying them. We called a restaurant supply house here and had them set aside two dozen for later pickup. Joe admirably banged out the prep list I had given him and kept asking for more work. I continue to think he was a good hire.
Roy called to say he'd be a bit late. He got in and I took the GM's car and the hotel's check downtown and picked up the dishes at about 16:40. I stopped at the Hotel Congress and shook hands with several people there and picked up my check. I dropped the keys and dishes at the hotel and left about 17:55.
I finally felt comfortable enough to leave other people in charge of my kitchen. It felt good.
I rode from the Lodge down Alvernon about a mile and a half to 22nd St., then headed east after calling Suntran to find out that the next bus wouldn't be by for almost a half hour. I rode east another mile and a half, almost to Craycroft, in a stiff, cold headwind before sitting down to wait for the bus. Today's bonus was a skinny, shavenheaded, trim-mustached, angular-jawed, dimpled, furry-armed, talkative bus-driving Teamster from Brooklyn. He was so goddamn gorgeous I had to try not to stare (after sitting further front than I ever do so I could see him). I alighted at Kolb, locked my bike to the grocery-cart corral at Fry's, and deposited my check. I bought some Pringles and two cheap pressed-sawdust logs, stuffed 'em in my backpack, and headed for home.
One of the reasons I chose my room in Bernie's house was the fireplace. I now have a silly little fire blazing away (for small values of "blazing") and it isn't quite so cold.
Spongebob and Sandy are fighting the giant worm and I'm about to crash. Lunch for the 50 tomorrow and then I'm leaving, and taking Friday off. Woohoo! *feebly jumps up and down*