Day 206: I Never Thought

Listening: Don't suffer no more. Just step inside and listen. Listen to my pillbox tales.

What's my problem? My knife callus says ouch.

Over the past two days I have been pulling some hours at the Chez, doing some prep work for a couple of catering jobs. Initially, I thought that I would only be prepping for one catering job, not two. It just so happened that the Chez was booked for an afternoon private party on one of the afternoons that I would be prepping.

The first day that I prepped, I did things for the bigger catering job. The problem was that there wasn't enough product in the walk-in for me to really get much done. Furthermore, I was kind of tired from being up at five in the morning to catch a ride into town. I think it made me a bit less productive than I wanted to be. I prepped a lot of the day facing the line as they cooked, and that made it a bit more laxed than in other conditions I could have been prepping in. I prepped from half past one until about ten o'clock. When I got off work, who was waiting in the bar, chillin' with a beer? It was the old pastry chef, Anne.

As the beers got drank, and the line cooks finished cleaning, I got caught up on current events and found out that Anne would be kicking it in the kitchen for this catering job as well. As it turns out, it would be an old school team working for catering the next day. It would be Paul and Marsoir, Anne and I. The two management people and the two ex-employees.

The second day is what I call The Perfect Fuck Storm. It's like "The Perfect Storm" when a number of storms converge into a bigger, supremely powerful storm. In this case, it was two fuck storms that converged upon the Chez.

In this case, not only was there the catering job for 150 people that I said that I would help with, but there was another 60 person in-house party that we had to do passed hors d'oerves. Cuban sandwiches were on the menu, but the pork wasn't roasted off a day ahead. Aioli, pickle mix, grilled veg, sliced ham and cheese, nothing was done in advance. In my time, I would have made the Cubanos the day before so that they were ready for three o'clock with no fuss. Garde manger should have known that this was coming down the pipe and should have been prepared for it. So, I had to take time out of prepping for the pig party to put all of that shit together, which takes a lot longer when you have to prep it from the ground up. I felt like I wasted so much time getting the stuff together for the Cubanos that I didn't have as much time to prep the other crap that needed to be done.

Furthermore, no one pushes their dishes through when there's no dishwasher, so who steps up to rock dish pit until the dust settles? Me, the guy they're paying much more money than they should be paying a dish washer. Total. Fuck. Storm.

When the party cleared and regular service began, I was finally able to work on the 150 person party. Luckily I was stuck downstairs with Anne, the old pastry chef, and Jen, the new pastry chef. Both are delightful women, and there was always something interesting to talk about, whether it was about how the catering job would go down to traveling to running marathons.

I did so much more knife work that night than I do on a normal basis at Seasons that my knife callus on the inside of my right index finger legitimately hurt. I julienned 10 cucumbers for spring rolls and turned a whole side of slab bacon into matchstick lardons (and it's a lot of fucking lardons).

Anyhow, I'm back on the island for my last few days of work. I can't help but be a little sad. I realize that I made some good money this summer, or at least as much as I would have made in Boston. I've met some wonderful people, and some not so savory individuals. I've laid out on the beach. I've imbibed some beverages. A few more days and I'm back into the land of ethnic food.

And in other news, I have discovered a new song that I dig. Originally, I heard it here:



After I heard Sweetafton23 sing it, I searched out the Jon Brion version, and then realized that it was a cover of a Rhett Miller song. They all sound really similar, but I just dig it a lot. If you haven't heard it, check it out.