Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Can someone, please knock me out?

     Sometimes, I feel that the top of my head might just blow clean off. I am old school kitchen. Not this new tutti-frutti kitchen shtick. I need to confess one thing to my readers!, I have never in the life of me EVER, had a break in the kitchen. Hell, we are working for those, that have breaks. I am working for the ulitmate experience for the Tom, and Jill that walk through the door. If fact, if rubbing your feet squeezed more money outta ya, I would do it. I want your tummy to do flip-flops, and if I was not on the flip-flop mark, tell me how I could improve.

    This is not my first time around the block. Truth is, either I have seen it before, or have been yelled at, about it. I did not get into the Culinary business to play with cookie dough, and contemplate tablescapes. I would never ask anyone to do something that I would not do myself. PERIOD!!! In fact, I can remember being 20, and instead of tooling around town, looking fly. I am standing on top of a cooling grill scrubbing the hoods.

     But one thing that you don't know, is that greasy water is soaking my armpits and shirt. Guess what? there is nobody that gives a crap about my situation. In fact this is normal, suck it up and move on. The more you whine about grease in your hair, the longer it is going to take. Not wanting to hold up the people that do it every month, you learn to shut your mouth. Haven't you people learned anything from "Dirty Jobs"?


     I learned very early on, that my situation or feelings, did not matter, because there was a replacement, just waiting for me to screw up. So too bad, so sad. Go home and cry to your family, because no one cared. We all were in the same godforsaken twisted boat.  Welcome to hell.
   
      While you are sitting at your custom table, admiring your appetizers,
 there are mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, girlfriends and boyfriends wishing that you don't linger, so they can turn over the table, and make it worth their while to be even there. So, the next time you go to a restaurant remember the "little people" that made your experience memorable, smile and mean it, and you get what you give out.

    So I am cynical today, because when I was young, I had hood grease dripping down my armpit, and there was NOBODY, I could complain to, because I needed to pay rent, and I had no Mommy or Daddy bailing me out, because my parents were across the United States.  So call me old school, cynical or a B--ch, been there, done that. Bend over and kiss your butt, because you are lucky to be where you are at.


     If I were me writing a food blog, what recipe would I include to capture the " I am done" persona? Something completely selfish...hmmmmm

Grilled "Gourmet" Cheese(one person, not a dog, a boyfriend, or a mouse, just one)

1 piece of artisan bread(buy one roll, walk away with a smile)
3 ozs of good cheese( you pick, because only you know the cheese you like)
2 slices of tomato
fresh basil (chiffonade), of the smart arse's strips
1 tablespoon of good quality mustard
4 ozs of your favorite luncheon meat (mine, nice baked ham)

In a pan, heat one ounce of butter and add your pre-assembled sandwich( meaning..bread, condiment,cheese,basil, tomato, meat, cheese,condiment, bread) Not rocket science ;). Grill on both sides and enjoy.

Teamwork is the ability to work as group toward a common vision, even if that vision becomes extremely blurry.~Author Unknown 

1 comments:

Tricia said...

I've only briefly worked in the restaurant industry and it was enough to learn perpetual respect for those who are makin' and servin' my sammich. That's some mad nasty, exhausting work!!

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