A symphony in food… Part 4

ALLEGRO

As the expiditor I’m yelling, “Fire!” Plates come flying from all directions; section five has food that is sitting – catching reflections.  Where’s my runner?  What cover’s missing?  Six soups all day, I need a Caesar, I’m down two Ahi – On the fly!  Why in the world is this sauce separating?  Take it back and do it right.  Bump table 12 – their steaks are resting.  I need those sides to make it sell.  Hey, tell the bar I need well whisky and some wine – some for the food and some for the mind.

Its been such a “weeded” day (busy and behind).  This cacophony carries on for several hours with miniscule lulls.  In the midst of this poetic madness, I’m aware that I absolutely love it all!  The successes and the failures, the good, the bad, the ugly, the smooth and the oh-so rough.  I may earn only pennies for my passion but the pennies are enough.  I would rather play this tune day and night with no compensation, than to not and live in devastation.  This is my finale, my rush, my symphony. 

The rush dwindles and the tickets trickle; the sigh of relief is mutual.  As usual, the banter thickens now that it’s been given time to breathe.  The camaraderie of accomplishment echoes down hallways and soaks walls.  The withered walls, rooms and hallways that house this untamed madness are just as excited as we are.  The chaos is on our aprons but off our hands as the rush withdraws.  There will be no encore until tomorrow.  The time to clean is coming on soon - we erase the evidence of our battle wounds.  Tomorrow starts anew – another day to fulfill the dream, to cook until I scream.  But for now I’ll get some sleep and a bite to eat before I repeat this memory.  From the top, I’ll play it again, gladly.

THIS IS MY SYMPHONY!

The End

A symphony in food… Part 3

INTERMEZZO

The slow midday hours, somewhere between AM and PM placing orders, checking reservations, having production meetings, making sure were set for the week.  To be honest, I’d rather be in the back, on the floor, by the ice machine taking a much-needed nap.  I settle instead for a 5-er out back where the alley cats meet, the galley for the industries greatest.  The stoops on the back streets where cooks meet and discuss the meaning of life.  Who did what to who? By annoying do you mean you? And what is the heck happened to ol-whats-his-name?  He never showed up last week.  Their goes his streak, what a freak.  I would say that I don’t mean to be so crude, but I do.  I mean dude, its your life, less strife, more knife – for me that is. Hahaha. Sorry-for-ya… This is my symphony. 

The night crew enters a well-tuned kitchen, discussing the night before.  More vibrant than the morning crews because they took a longer snooze.  They are the owls of the industry, the ones who work until 3, stay up until 5, the ones who are at bay sleeping the morning away.  They are war-torn combatants, proud of their scares, ready for the their benevolent moment, the curtain call – ha, with hardened hands and sturdy hearts.  My line cooks play their part – a full-speed start, the race for mise en place, the prepping of their line, the back and forth jest of the frantic order, all the while preparing themselves for serving time.  We all know whats coming because we have all been here, but, underneath the confidence lies the undertone of fear – of the unknown.  Whatever is known is none, knowing only variables.  No matter how many times we play this song, we play it differently every time.  The rhythm of the rush will change the lyrics with which we rhyme.  It goes:

“One for the customer and two for the food they fancy; three for the way the server rings it, and four when the cooks start dancing; five for the freedom, six for the stresses, and seven for the madness when we all fall into messes.”

This is my symphony!

To be continued.

A symphony in food… Part 2

MISE EN PLACE

When I arrive I find her standing in the same shape that I left her, only empty now.  She is all cleared out and quietly waiting.  First things first: I start the coffee before walking back to light the kitchen.  The hood sings a squeal like and old man when I hit the switch as if her were ill and I woke him.  I say, “I’m sorry,” because I know just how he feels.  The pilot lights are lit and the hiss of gas becomes a flame.  Down the line I turn the knobs and bring the kitchen back to life again.  I shuffle back out to the coffee pot with a cup and with sugar from the bin; I fill it up, then pour cream in and watch the spirals until they blend.  Outside the city is showing signs of life; the headlights and traffic lights bicker back and forth like fireflies while commuters sigh behind the wheel.  I step outside to steel one more gasp of air, with a note, join the chorus.  A verse from a hip-hop song pours into my head and I grin, reciting the lyrics as the beat drops in: “Everyone who doubted me is asking for forgiveness, if you havent been apart of it at least you got to witness.”

Each day begins this way, this temp – tranqillo.  Like a track though, it’s coming – the transition to rapidity.  This is my rendition. This is my symphony. 

Back inside. My hands are washed, my apron tied and my knife is upon the board.  I walk into the cooler and check the rack; I’m two soups short.  I finger the produce, wondering which will induce my fancy.  What meats talk to me about the soups they could be?  To cream or not to cream.  Butter – yes, almost always start with butter – nothing smells better melting.  I help the onions in and listen as they begin to sweat, then celery and leeks, then garlic. This is my minuet.

Before the morning crew arrives, as the sun begins to break the sky, with the radio tuned to classical, most days there stand I, over a stove or two, and a sink or a few, wooden spoon in hand, a happy man, conducting plates as usual.  There I find my peace, my minuet, in this, my symphony. 

The haggard bedraggled boys of the morning crew have found their way to work,  after playing their own tunes at a nightly cirque – du solei.  Their stations are set for the lunchtime fight, their knees now deep in the prep for tonight.  It’ll be noon soon and the crowd will undoubtedly come at once.  The lawyers and the businessmen, the women and their lunch break friends, the out-of-towners and the regulars – their hunger upon our hands.  I stand ready for testing – the first round of service, the sudden pop, the rush, then emptiness – the quickness of a summer storm.  Torn between calm and calamity, lunch dies as quick as it’s born.  Andante now for the finishing, the diminishing list of prep.  The cleanup and the curtain call, the clocking out, “until tomorrow y’all,” and like that – Act One is done.  I’m the only one left, remembering that Act Two is still to come.  I look to my shadow for sympathy. 

This is my symphony!

To be continued.

 

 

A symphony in food… Part 1

COMMENCEMENT

It’s 6 a.m. and my alarm clock is ringing, no actually screaming – “Get up, get up.” I hit it once and go back to dreaming.  Right before Rem sets back in, it rings again.  I can’t win!  With unmatched emotions of anger and excitement, I arise.  I sit still for just a moment, collect my thoughts and thank God for another day in this life, another chance to fulfill the dream, to  cook until I scream.  The unexplainable 80-hour workweek has set in as I wake the aches and sores form the days before.  I brush my teeth, put on my chefs coat, grab my keys, split a banana, crank Santana, push the door open and let the morning come rushing in.  When I hit the cold wet streets of the Queen city my mind begins to wonder about the sweet sound of slumber.  I quickly come-to, Deja vu – the melody that I remember will play over, just for me – like a story or album on repeat.  I live in glorious memory.  I’m not complaining,  I am content. 

This is my symphony!

To be continued…

Meat! Meat! Meat!

Well 1 trimester down, 2 to go!  I just finished up with New World Cuisine, Essentials of Dining Room, Traditional European Cuisine, Intro to Baking, and Stock, Sauces and Soups.   I started my other session today and if you can’t tell by the overzealous title of this post, I’m now taking Skills of Meat Cutting.  I believe the correct colloquialism used here to give this class justice would have to be the ever so polite Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor grunt… Orgh Orgh Orgh!  We get to slaughter our own meat! Beef, Veal, Chicken and Lamb.  We also get to make out own sausages and bangers and a few other processed meats.  The only thing that sucks is that the room is kept at 40 degrees for sanitation purposes.  But the class should be pretty “cool” haha (sorry had to throw that in).

I’m doing a complete switch this round, I am now taking AM labs.  Traditionally I would be in class only from 7 AM to 1 PM.  Since the school is a little overcrowded this year I was unable to take a class that I needed to take last semester.  So I have to double up on the only 2 core classes I have to take; Food Safety and Sanitation and Introduction to Menu Planning and Cost Control.  The other classes I am taking this semester are Principles of Beverage Service, Nutrition and Sensory Analysis, Fundamentals of Food Service Production and Purchasing & Product Identification.

The teacher I have for Meat Cutting is pretty awesome actually.  We spent half of today listening to him talk about kitchen horror stories (which by the way only got the class motivated) wierd huh?  I look forward to another succesful semester. 

Wish me luck because for my Co-op I am trying to study abroad, either in the UK or Australia.  I’ve been doing some research and because of the “times” its pretty difficult to try and get a slot open to be able to do so.  My instructors told me only a handful of people studied abroad last year so its pretty competitive.  They tell me you have to already have a pretty well connected network established with people in those countries to be able to pursue it further.  So you all know me.. I went right to the Dean of the University and asked him for a letter of recommendation.  He looked at me like I was crazy and in his foreign language said “but I dant iven know-ya”! haha I shrugged my shoulders and told him I really wanted it.  So he’s going to write me one in January.

Sorry about being away for the past month.  My last class was Stocks, Sauces, and Soups and it was hard to post recipes because we were predominantly making yields on a larger scale.  Below is a chart of the different cuts of meat I have to produce just from a cow.  Next post I am bringing you all on a journey into the day in the life of a culinarian.  I call it “My Symphony.” Until then to all you foodies out there who love to eat and drink but can’t afford it or cook.  Butter makes it better.  And the best secret I’ve learned is that I cook with wine, and sometimes I even add it to the food ; )