The professional kitchen....
I think its time some of you really know what its like inside a professional kitchen. Its a nut house- the most un politically correct place you could stumble upon. There is just one rule- stop when someone cries. Then you've gone too far. But no one ever cries. Ever.
So being in a kitchen is like being in a rock n roll show. You walk in and blare your music early on to take the pressure off the rest of the day. As a head chef, you are in charge of setting the tempo for the rest of the kitchen. Mozart or Bach can be heard? Looks like the head chef had a meeting this morning that went well- rest easy. Is that U2 I hear? Someone managed to piss me off before I even entered the doors and is now trying to make me feel good by playing my band...Is that Metallica I hear pumping out of the kitchen? Looks like we are going to get slammed *over 500 dinners in a three hour period* so put your dancing shoes on girls, and enjoy the show.
The kitchen is a ballet with different cultures coming together for a common goal. A grin on a customers face, a satisfied smile, a small burp etc...the list goes on. Why do I do it? The smiles. I love when you look out the little square window of the kitchen door. Its 11pm and you have no idea what just happened, only that you banged out around 400 desserts and are feeling pretty damn cocky about yourself. You spot a deuce sitting in a corner with "the cat that got the canary" smirks as they finish off one of your truffle platters. You scan the room again and come across a four top diligently eating four different desserts and passing them around so everyone can have a taste *my kind of table lol*But the best feeling? Knowing that the critic from the NY Times is in there somewhere taking this all in. You can't help but be amazed that you work in a field that is laid out by someone who never cooked- the food critic. Bless them for being more arrogant about food and style and the waitstaff than I could ever be.
I love what I do. I love going into the restaurant around 7am to take in the deliveries. I like playing on the computer for an hour after that pretending to do menu planning and such. I love setting up the mise en place for the day and watching the guys trickle in to work. I am learning Spanish from the guys. An amazing bunch of workers that just keep me motivated and made me realize that when I think I had it bad, they get it much worse. Its hard having to prove yourself everyday to a Dictator chef that thinks you are inferior because of sex or nationality. That is my field. That is what I am up against on a daily basis- Stereotypes. Time to put my dancing shoes on and join the ballet now. This is a professional kitchen, take or leave it, at least I haven't cried...
So being in a kitchen is like being in a rock n roll show. You walk in and blare your music early on to take the pressure off the rest of the day. As a head chef, you are in charge of setting the tempo for the rest of the kitchen. Mozart or Bach can be heard? Looks like the head chef had a meeting this morning that went well- rest easy. Is that U2 I hear? Someone managed to piss me off before I even entered the doors and is now trying to make me feel good by playing my band...Is that Metallica I hear pumping out of the kitchen? Looks like we are going to get slammed *over 500 dinners in a three hour period* so put your dancing shoes on girls, and enjoy the show.
The kitchen is a ballet with different cultures coming together for a common goal. A grin on a customers face, a satisfied smile, a small burp etc...the list goes on. Why do I do it? The smiles. I love when you look out the little square window of the kitchen door. Its 11pm and you have no idea what just happened, only that you banged out around 400 desserts and are feeling pretty damn cocky about yourself. You spot a deuce sitting in a corner with "the cat that got the canary" smirks as they finish off one of your truffle platters. You scan the room again and come across a four top diligently eating four different desserts and passing them around so everyone can have a taste *my kind of table lol*But the best feeling? Knowing that the critic from the NY Times is in there somewhere taking this all in. You can't help but be amazed that you work in a field that is laid out by someone who never cooked- the food critic. Bless them for being more arrogant about food and style and the waitstaff than I could ever be.
I love what I do. I love going into the restaurant around 7am to take in the deliveries. I like playing on the computer for an hour after that pretending to do menu planning and such. I love setting up the mise en place for the day and watching the guys trickle in to work. I am learning Spanish from the guys. An amazing bunch of workers that just keep me motivated and made me realize that when I think I had it bad, they get it much worse. Its hard having to prove yourself everyday to a Dictator chef that thinks you are inferior because of sex or nationality. That is my field. That is what I am up against on a daily basis- Stereotypes. Time to put my dancing shoes on and join the ballet now. This is a professional kitchen, take or leave it, at least I haven't cried...