i'm done.
period.
i don't know my grade. but i finished, got my big tall hat, went to Toad Hall, and i'm done.
D-O-N-E.
I won't go into any gory details.
The three judges who had my dishes LOVED my grouper dish... they even said it was the best dish they had all night. yesssss.
All of the haywire-ness was followed by some generous drinking at Toad Hall.
I had an irish car bomb, a sierra nevada, a shot of Jaeger, a guiness, and a bastardized car bomb that was just Jameson and Guinness. I really truly almost puked at the bar while the Jameson hit my throat, but kept it down.
Chef Martin and I tipped over a whole tableful of drinks onto the floor... complete with an uncomfortable silence and cheers from the rest of the bar. Shards of glass, a broom, and a mop. The whole deal. I called it quits on the alcohol after that and sat with Chef Martin, Chef Janet (cute as a button), Chef Bear, and Cody. We talked about sauerbreaten, guinness, and the drug habits of the other FORMER chefs at the school. It was everything i had holed it would be. I wanted to stay later, but I am glad i'm home now, writing and smoking a marlboro menthol light. Amen.
Things i've learned about the kitchen life:
1) Be ready to poop in really uncomfortable places. Inconveinient. Obvious. But you gotta go. Table 5 will be fired in 5 minutes, and to be honest, you really don't have a choice. Go while you can and you'll camp happier in the end. Everyone does it.
2) Shut up. Listen. Take every critique seriously, but with a grain of salt. They're right, and listen to what they have to say, but you weren't completely wrong either. Use it to your advantage. And if you know you done fucked up, take it with pride and block out the world. Just suck it up and apply the right tidbits when necessary.
3) Time is of the essence. Take it seriously, but not so seriously that you choke. You have JUST ENOUGH time, no more and no less. Use it as best you can, and if you fuck up, Entremetier probably has something nice they can send to the table for free to quell their hunger. But keep on top of your game and you won't have to resort to that.
4) Everyone is your friend. You're all under the same roof, and you can't leave early, so help your friends. And they will most certailny help you. Share a sixth-pan with garde-manger the first time they ask and they'll hook up the sizzle plate love as necessary. They'll also be sure to remember that you were an asshole and said NO if you chose so, and never ever ever let you forget it.
5) Your chefs are people too. They've had bad days, stupid days, drug problems, parents, school, not enough sleep, boy/girl friends, wives/husbands, rent, bills, and life in general, too... just like you. It's so easy to forget, but you'll see. Just buy them a drink when they show up with no warning to the bar and make them feel good. They'll return the favor.
6) Always say yes when someone asks for a smoke. They probably need it more if they're asking. Cut them a short and go back inside to cover their ass. Just do it. They'd do it for you. This also applies to nonsmokers.
7) No whistling in the kitchen. It's bad luck. Chef Candy said so. And if her word isn't gold, then nobody's is. Trust me.
8) Always say yes when invited out for a drink. Even if you're too tired and have to work a lunch shift the next day. Just have one, or opt for soda and lime. But go. The best conversations and the most valuable information comes from someone with a bourbon on the rocks in one hand. You might even tip a table with Chef Martin in the end.
9) There is no crying in foodservice. This was introduced to me by an ex-friend and then reinforced word-for-word by Chef Candy, which makes it hold true forever. Keep your trap shut, endure the screaming/yelling, and do it better next time. It's just food, after all, and you'll have all day tomorrow to make good on your mistake. Just hold your head high, accept that you fucked it up, and resolve to work twice as hard from now on.
10) SMILE. Laugh in the face of table 7's request for no onions in the sauce, do it with a big grin, and speak horrible curses under your breath through your teeth that no one can hear, and hole for the best. Even in the midst of the serious, lives-hanging-in-the-balance-ness of the kitchen, nothing REALLY matters, and life is too short to suck, so make the best out of your sautoir and ladle, and with a smile, sauce and veg that butterless and empty plate as requested and do it with pride.
Otherwise, we might as well give in to the Burger King Empire.
Hallelujah, and Holy Shit.
Love
johnjohn
