Onions, Starvation, and Big Brother: A Tough Day At the Office
What do professional cooks consider a bad day? You might think it was breaking a sauce, getting a burn, forgetting to entirely make something for service, or being to slow to get your orders out. While all of these are frustrating scenarios, a bad day for me in the office is being watched.
I've gotten burned; I've broken sauces; I've been forgetful and I have been slow. All of these can be fixed. You can put vitamin E on burns, you can rebuild a sauce, you can forget things, and you can get faster. But the one think a cook can't shove off his or her shoulders is being watched. Like Big Brother from the novel 1984, my Chef De Cuisine was watching my every move, making sure I was moving about the kitchen for my last hour of preparation perfectly and precisely.
The annoyance thickens especially when you last ate at 8 a.m. (a solid six hours before hand). This was my case. I last had half a bagel around 7:30 a.m. It was approaching two in the afternoon and my stomach was yelling at me ferociously.
I had completed the task that was assigned by the chef and looked over to my bluefish Caesar salad that the sous chef had prepared for me. Looking at it like I had never seen food before, I grabbed the fork and went in for the kill. Stabbing the lettuce and throwing it into my mouth, I savored the one bite. The one bite. "I want those onions done by three o'clock,” said the Chef De Cuisine. Twelve minutes to cut twelve white onions. Good God help me. I. Am. Starving.
I held my knife like a weapon in which I was about to use in battle; with a firm grip and eye piercing focus I went though those onions like I had twelve minutes to live. A little dramatic you may say. But we ALL have been hungry before and we all know what that's like.
The afternoon shift arrived and the gal working my station at night asked what needed to be prepped. So as I went for the list...."Are you done with the onions? You're already five minutes over" said the chef.
"Yes Chef" I replied. (The usage of this phrase is basically the only phrase you use to a chef higher than you. All the time)
I cleaned my station of the onion parts, the cutting board, and knife. I told Amber what she needed to prep and then I asked the chef where the onions should go. I then grabbed my now room temperature fish salad and snuck into the back. Against the dishwasher I ate my droopy salad in peace. The only thing I had to deal with now was the 50-minute bike ride home.
I've gotten burned; I've broken sauces; I've been forgetful and I have been slow. All of these can be fixed. You can put vitamin E on burns, you can rebuild a sauce, you can forget things, and you can get faster. But the one think a cook can't shove off his or her shoulders is being watched. Like Big Brother from the novel 1984, my Chef De Cuisine was watching my every move, making sure I was moving about the kitchen for my last hour of preparation perfectly and precisely.
The annoyance thickens especially when you last ate at 8 a.m. (a solid six hours before hand). This was my case. I last had half a bagel around 7:30 a.m. It was approaching two in the afternoon and my stomach was yelling at me ferociously.
I had completed the task that was assigned by the chef and looked over to my bluefish Caesar salad that the sous chef had prepared for me. Looking at it like I had never seen food before, I grabbed the fork and went in for the kill. Stabbing the lettuce and throwing it into my mouth, I savored the one bite. The one bite. "I want those onions done by three o'clock,” said the Chef De Cuisine. Twelve minutes to cut twelve white onions. Good God help me. I. Am. Starving.
I held my knife like a weapon in which I was about to use in battle; with a firm grip and eye piercing focus I went though those onions like I had twelve minutes to live. A little dramatic you may say. But we ALL have been hungry before and we all know what that's like.
The afternoon shift arrived and the gal working my station at night asked what needed to be prepped. So as I went for the list...."Are you done with the onions? You're already five minutes over" said the chef.
"Yes Chef" I replied. (The usage of this phrase is basically the only phrase you use to a chef higher than you. All the time)
I cleaned my station of the onion parts, the cutting board, and knife. I told Amber what she needed to prep and then I asked the chef where the onions should go. I then grabbed my now room temperature fish salad and snuck into the back. Against the dishwasher I ate my droopy salad in peace. The only thing I had to deal with now was the 50-minute bike ride home.
posted by Allison at
4:54 PM
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