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somewhere in time I have lost the need to write. I don't really know where it went. Maybe it went away in the day to day of being to busy at the two restaurants...maybe it is because I don't understand the response. Or feel the need to have one anymore.
For the last eight months I have been working at two jobs...a morning one and an evening one. The evening one has been the same. Until recently. It was the so called' bbq joint'. But it was really more than barbecue. It was a local hot spot, farm to table, handmade regional cuisine, 'fancy' restaurant...which just happens to sell barbecue as one of its many items. We have a smoker that will do 1000#+ of meat at a time and runs 24 hours a day, an inferno of a wood fired grill, and a seasoned kitchen staff that can make covers fly by.
The morning one has been a variety. The bakery...and if you haven't picked up on my method of understatemnt...well...anyway. Celebrity owned scratch bakery and deli. nationally featured in text and tv and books and etc... and dram filled. There was the tex mex place....working for my friend, helping to make a stand...and then there is the fish place.....which is where I am now...and having been recently salaried and soloed...where I am now full time AMs and PMs.
The fish place....hmmm....I have never been a 'fish' guy. I mean I like sushi as much as the rest...but as to breaking down whole fish...not so much. Its a challenge.
Today...
wreckfish...one fish...35#....20 portions...from scales to cheeks...head as big as a football, with a mouth that could swallow a 2 liter bottle...
snapper...10 fish...from scales to portions
striped bass...as well
ahi...30 portions from skin to trim
redfish, whole breakdown
monkfish, tail breakdown
scottish salmon, from whole to potions...
scallops
oysters...15 kinds on any given day
rock grouper, to prep for deep frying whole
loup de mer,
clams
mussels
etc...
in the past...
whole 80# halibut
orata
pompano
trout
swordfish
moi
etc...
Can you believe I spent two years in Hawaii and never cut more than frozen sides of mahi or fillets of snappers and tune loins...admittedly, I can cut a wicked tuna now, but...still. I had never cooked Hawaiian moi...until here...next week we are getting opah and moana....I have learned so much about cutting fish in the last two months...and I am still getting new experiences daily...I mean how do you tackle a 35# wreck fish...that is 12 inches thick....and I am nowhere in the league of the exec before...who had been cutting daily for the last 8 months...but soon...
its a whole new ball game...and a whole new world to suddenly be in charge of...yes, in charge of. Brigade of 15 misfit cooks and dishwashers, skilled and unskilled, an exec chef above, a sous chef under, two owners, a past that includes a fired exec who yelled and screamed, an ineffectual sous who was the opposite, a patio which seats half the restaurant's capacity and is hot or cold depeninding on the weather, a menu style that is currently inconclusive...and well...
We have turned the morale corner at least...the dead wight is leaving; the new blood is excited, the FOH is happy we are here(me and the new exec), and the kitchen is getting deep cleaned and organized and stocked and emptied.
Amidst all that is still the day to day that Sarah talks about, the coaching the teaching, the ordering the receiving, the trashing the prepping, the cutting, the cooking , the cleaning, etc...
And so writing is no longer a release...because I no longer need one...I have too much other stuff to do....and to learn, and to take care of.
But maybe...more later....
for myself this time. It’s been too long surviving on sandwiches and frozen pizza dressed up to represent something else. So, twice in one week I have actually made plates of food, garnished them and sat down for meals. Granted the plates have not been warmed, the table is still leaning against the couch sitting on the floor, the food is quick, it’s still better than the past six months. It requires actual shopping and knifing and seasoning and thought. Who am I kidding, better than the past who knows how many years? One of the perils of the single life, no matter the gender, when you spend your days cooking for other people. Or even the double life for that matter.
At the place the other day when I said that I do whatever is quick, I realized that this applies for others as well as myself and I miss having the luxury of more time to sear and braise, cure and coddle, research, ruminate and relax into the routine, rinse and repeat. Lately it is about get it there, get it there fast, fill it up. Then move on to the next blank spot. There are too many gaping holes that need attention to be able to devote the passion to celebrating the seasonality of what we should be cooking right now.
Winter has arrived, a hair over 20* today, brilliantly sunny, eye tearing wind. This is the time to cook it low and slow and simmer yourself as you simmer the meal at hand. Ideas projected in summer are just now making their way into the mix. Summer ideas that were meant for, well, summer. Not exactly where we sit for the next turn. Have to dredge up the thought from last year that never came to fruition and get them in this time around. Summer can wait till summer. I’m in the mood for heft and heat and heart. Not necessarily in that order.
Was actually written about a week ago. Conversations have been had. Pie has been made. Ovens have broken. Guerrilla cooking offsite has been successful. Nothing has changed yet. Except some tentative mention of new plans. Coffee will be had. Schemes will hatch. That's the hope anyway. The trust is there so I feel less of an asshole. Now if it could just be January.
I hate it when mouth opens and foot inserts. Rough day at the office today. Too much to do, knew that going in, list grows, knew that would happen too, any chance of getting it all done? Not a chance in hell. Meeting time. Meeting about what? How we can all get along. ‘no one is expecting you to be best of friends’. No shite. So, how can we all be grown-ups here? Apparently, my tone is demeaning, I question the food being made too often, requests to help with cleaning the kitchen (that you walk into clean, do your thing, wipe down your counter and walk out) is too much, ‘just give me the list of things you want me to do, I follow the recipes, I’ll do the list and go home’. IT WOULD HELP IF YOU KNEW HOW TO TASTE FOOD AND ANALYZE AND FIX IT. Just a simple request. Telling me you have gone to culinary school tells me nothing about why your food is underseasoned, bland, lacking acid, lacking interest, lacking thought. It all seems like it comes right from the pages of Better Homes (no insult to anyone who likes and uses this as a resource, I’m sure there is good stuff, knowing how to interpret is key).
Am I upset by today? A little. Will this be the time it finally sinks in the there is no advocate for me/us? Is there even an us on the same side? I feel completely left out of the information loop and have no idea what I am missing; I only know it feels like I am missing something. I like to think of myself as a tell it like it is girl. (I like to think) I hold few grudges. My tendency is to trust and think that you will do what needs to be done, that you will see what needs to be done, that you will look outside the blinders and be a part of the whole instead of the ego. Did my ego get bruised today? Yup. And I don’t like one bit that it has shown itself. And this is not the part of the day that makes me feel like an asshole; just that I have let myself get suckered into the stupid bullshit of stroking staff that should really be encouraged to move on. Hearing ‘you both bring a lot to the table’ made me want to spit. Not the best move when sitting in an office also being told that the next step is to get the principal involved and hearing the implied threat there. Moving on…
What really made me feel like an asshole? Being disappointed in the one I want to believe is better than reality demonstrates. It is a lonely feeling. Do I move on, do I have the conversation, do I suck it up, do I stop caring, do I become (more) bitter and frustrated and angry? Can’t afford that last one. The lonely feeling is the worst of all. That conversation? That one needs to happen. And I don’t like it. Was I a brat today? Is there enough going on without adding more fuel? Is some of this really about my ego or is it about when too much is too much and I cannot do it alone? I hate reading that; it means I am owning it. Too much is too much. Maybe if I did not have expectations and promises of help it would be easier. If I know that this is a need to do it on my own season I can adjust. I will miss the company. I can plan for the number of hours it will take to make it all happen. I can make it happen. I just need to know.
Let’s revisit a sentence from that last. I will miss the company. Present tense, I do miss the company. It is there momentarily and then gets refocused. {This is really just a case of being a jealous selfish bitch who wants to be the center of attention and having everyone see and acknowledge how much I contribute and wonder where would you all be without me} (probably a lot less stressed and with more production and less complaining happening…). The excitement of having the experiment work, getting the cure just right, deciding what the people want and getting it right, deciding what they want without knowing they want it and getting it right, seeing abundance and garnishes and beauty and knowing it was not created in a vacuum. Operating in a vacuum sucks. I feel like I am a dust mote clogging the wheel. Spinning and getting far less done than needs to happen. Putting out fires? Someone once suggested I add arsonist to my resume. I’m doing more fire starting here in terms of making enemies than I have anywhere else. Not a good feeling.
This comes back to the tell it like it is girl. Not welcome here. Does it need to happen? I think so. I HATE having to tell staff that questions the lack of accountability that I feel like my hands are tied. They are indeed bound and gagged. While this may be a welcome situation in other venues, not so much in this one. Goes back to that asshole thing. I want my company back and I am scared that I have just chased it away. Leaving notes is cowardly. If I were ballsy enough I would have followed the company out the door to talk. If only the company had not moved so fast. Then there is always the wondering if the company really cares. There are no easy answers for this one. All I can hope for is that the apology is accepted, that I can be not too melodramatic, that I cause no more guilt, that I can explain it without sounding like an idiot, that it can be talked about and company is not lost forever. Here I am again, hoping against hope that I have not fucked up and pushed too hard and pushed away what I need.
Yesterday was a day off yet the season of lists is upon us so I sat drinking mocha at a local cafe and compiled several. What to prep when, what needs to be special ordered, what recipes need to be compiled, what can be frozen in advance., when to have special order forms ready, what to replace in cases, equipment needs and, the inevitable, prep list.
I love prep lists, mis en place, whatever you want to call them. It is soul satisfying to cross items off and the days when it is one sheet with lines through everything are joyous. Of course, the carryover happens more often than not. The beauty of the carryover is that, for me anyway, it tends to be the administrative crap that is not accomplished while to physical food needs are completed. This is supposed to be the primary part of my day anyway (I think, truth is, I have no idea what my job description really is anymore, that hanging nebulous phrase- 'anything else the department manager asks'- is a stroke of genius on the part of HR) and lately, it sort of has been.
While I lamented the arrival of November, the reality is that I am thrilled it's here. This is the food I love. We are going to be filling cases, containers, pie tins, pastry boxes, ovens, walk-ins, shelves, every possible surface. What does this mean in the short term. It's ok to put aside the paper work! A few months of freedom from sitting at the desk banging at inventory, invoices, reviews, the stuff we want to avoid though it has to get done somehow. Hello long days of being on my feet cooking and inventing. So glad to have you here.
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