In the kitchen...
The four most amusing moments from inside the kitchen (aka how chefs stay entertained on the slow days):
Side towel vs. blow torch - Exec chef whips sous chef with a side towel. The sous chef, not to be outdone, grabs the blow torch from the pastry dept and tries to burn chef's jacket. Hilarity ensues as the exec chef attempts to blow out the torch while frantically keeping the sous chef at bay with his side towel.
Ultimate [lobster] fighting challenge - Each sous chef picked their champion lobster out of a crate and placed them on the pass. When they were all set, the bands holding their claws were cut, and the lobsters were let loose. While the battle was much hyped, the next moment was much akin to my friend's feeling of disappointment after shelling out for a pay-per-view fight only to have it end within the first minute. The lobsters (probably still sluggish from being in the fridge) lazily swung their claws threw the air, as if batting imaginary flies on a hot summer day, and then lay still, despite the prodding of the chefs. After a while, we started to feel sorry for torturing the poor creatures and promptly boiled them until cooked through in preparation for dinner service.
The duck off - As always, it started with an innocent comment, this time from the meat station: "I can break down ten whole ducks in fifteen minutes."
Exec chef: No fucking way!
Meat chef: Seriously! I timed myself!
Exec chef: I bet you I could break down a duck faster than you with a paring knife.
Meat chef: You're on!
Moments later, the stations were setup and the ducks were placed breast side up on the cutting boards. The chefs ran their knives along honing steels as if revving their engines. A small crowd gathered, and the sous chef counted off, "3... 2... 1... GO!"
For the next 45 seconds, we all held our breath as we witnessed the wild frenzy of steel and flesh. Only the pasta chef dared to say aloud what we were all thinking: "Someone is going to lose a finger."
Ten seconds later, the meat chef stood triumphantly with his arms in the air, two breasts, two wings, and two legs lying neatly on his cutting board. The chef finished moments later and graciously conceded defeat with a handshake.
You like-a de fresh peppa?
Waiter: Hey, do you have five bucks?
Me: Sorry, my wallet is in my locker. What's up?
Waiter: Pete [the sous chef] said he'd do a bump of habanero pepper powder for $25, and we have $20 so far.
After another waiter generously added $5 to the pot, the other sous chef prepared a generous heap of pepper powder and a straw. Pete took a few deep breathes, and in one quick inhalation, the powder disappeared up his right nostril. His face immediately turned red, but the reaction was surprisingly muted. A little bit of hopping around the kitchen, a few tears, but the entire time with a smile on his face. And then he confessed, "Oh, I've put much worse things up my nose."
Ten minutes later, still sniffling slightly, Pete reached for the ticket and called out, "Order in! Green salad, blue fin, followed by..."
Side towel vs. blow torch - Exec chef whips sous chef with a side towel. The sous chef, not to be outdone, grabs the blow torch from the pastry dept and tries to burn chef's jacket. Hilarity ensues as the exec chef attempts to blow out the torch while frantically keeping the sous chef at bay with his side towel.
Ultimate [lobster] fighting challenge - Each sous chef picked their champion lobster out of a crate and placed them on the pass. When they were all set, the bands holding their claws were cut, and the lobsters were let loose. While the battle was much hyped, the next moment was much akin to my friend's feeling of disappointment after shelling out for a pay-per-view fight only to have it end within the first minute. The lobsters (probably still sluggish from being in the fridge) lazily swung their claws threw the air, as if batting imaginary flies on a hot summer day, and then lay still, despite the prodding of the chefs. After a while, we started to feel sorry for torturing the poor creatures and promptly boiled them until cooked through in preparation for dinner service.
The duck off - As always, it started with an innocent comment, this time from the meat station: "I can break down ten whole ducks in fifteen minutes."
Exec chef: No fucking way!
Meat chef: Seriously! I timed myself!
Exec chef: I bet you I could break down a duck faster than you with a paring knife.
Meat chef: You're on!
Moments later, the stations were setup and the ducks were placed breast side up on the cutting boards. The chefs ran their knives along honing steels as if revving their engines. A small crowd gathered, and the sous chef counted off, "3... 2... 1... GO!"
For the next 45 seconds, we all held our breath as we witnessed the wild frenzy of steel and flesh. Only the pasta chef dared to say aloud what we were all thinking: "Someone is going to lose a finger."
Ten seconds later, the meat chef stood triumphantly with his arms in the air, two breasts, two wings, and two legs lying neatly on his cutting board. The chef finished moments later and graciously conceded defeat with a handshake.
You like-a de fresh peppa?
Waiter: Hey, do you have five bucks?
Me: Sorry, my wallet is in my locker. What's up?
Waiter: Pete [the sous chef] said he'd do a bump of habanero pepper powder for $25, and we have $20 so far.
After another waiter generously added $5 to the pot, the other sous chef prepared a generous heap of pepper powder and a straw. Pete took a few deep breathes, and in one quick inhalation, the powder disappeared up his right nostril. His face immediately turned red, but the reaction was surprisingly muted. A little bit of hopping around the kitchen, a few tears, but the entire time with a smile on his face. And then he confessed, "Oh, I've put much worse things up my nose."
Ten minutes later, still sniffling slightly, Pete reached for the ticket and called out, "Order in! Green salad, blue fin, followed by..."