Day 82: A Grand Day Out

Listening: Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world. You could say I lost my faith in the people on tv.

What's my problem? Didn't make it to the Bean.

Well, I didn't make it to the Bean today. The Bean is the local coffee house with free wifi, uninspired service and quality beverages where I usually park my ass for hours at a time on my day off as I read, twiddle around on the internet and blog. I meant to go there this evening, but better things presented themselves.

Starting this week, my room mate/the intern, who is known in the kitchen as "the crazy eyed killer" and is referred to by other names including "crazy eye," "killa," "crazy mutha fuckin' eyed killa," and "pickled fucker" had the same day off. We knew this was going to happen a couple of days ago and we planned on going to the Downy Flake, the closest approximation to a diner on this hellhole for real people and playground for popped collars.

We didn't get going until half past eleven when the pastry assistant, who shares a name in common with a specific cookie (and I find quietly amusing... and no it's not Oreo), called to see of the killa wanted to grab some lunch. He informed her of our plan and she decided to join us for a noontime breakfast at the Downy Flake.

I know the pastry assistant casually, as in, when she and the pastry chef are really busy, they're still there when I go in to prep, we have some pleasant conversation, and then go about our merry way. The killa knows her a bit better, because as an intern, he gets more time off due to the fact that he's hourly and not a salaried employee. Therefore, during his time off, he can socialize with her because she's typically done before noon. So they had a number of dinners together before, but this was my first time getting to know her at all.

But, we had the late breakfast. I had the Flake Special, which included two eggs, some bacon, some home fries and a donut. To that I added on a single pancake and a bottomless cup of coffee, which I milked 'til we were the last table sitting before they closed for the afternoon.

It was nice getting to know the pastry assistant who shares a name with a cookie (heh). She's a down home southern belle with a boyfriend waiting for her down in Nashville. She reads a lot of food lit including Michael Pollan books. She has never worked the line in her life and kind of wants to work for a test kitchen someday. Generally a cool, seemingly intelligent person.

After breakfast, the killa and the cookie waited for me as I got a haircut. Now, the killa insists that all of his days off are sunny and beautiful. I insist that all of my days off are crappy and disgusting. So, what happens when we have the same day off? Well, half of the day is crappy and the other half is great. Luckily the morning blew, so the afternoon was pretty nice. It was so nice, in fact that we ended up packing a cooler and heading to the beach.

I actually got into the water today. It was surprisingly warm, a fact that the cookie would not agree with. But, for New England, the water was almost tropical. The waves were out in full force with surfers kicking crazy turns and taking some diggers. The wind was blowing too. It was a little bit chilly, but I was determined to get some of my color back. I'll freeze my little Asian nipples off if it means regaining what I worked so hard to achieve in places like Koh Tao and Nha Trang.

I also started reading one of the books that I requested from the library. I requested a book on taking a gap year, and for the most part, it was really geared towards people who are looking to take their year in or around their college career. It was also geared mostly towards the Brits, to whom the idea of a Gap Year is not only a commonplace thing, but it's also something recognized by the government. There was a small section geared toward "North Americans." It included some good resources that I plan to research a little bit more like different agencies that aid people on taking gap years and such. I think that all of my talk about the idea of a gap year has sort of inspired the killa to take one once he gets out of culinary school.

We stayed at the beach for a long time because one of the servers at the restaurant said that she would come out. She said she would be an hour or so, and it was more like or so. She showed up after we had been there for a good three hours. It was okay though. We got to see her smiling face and shared a bit of our wine with her. She ended up heading out to catch a few waves on her board after a short while and we decided that we were gonna go grab some food. And we were hungry.

After the three of us got cleaned up, we headed over to Straight Wharf. In the past, I hadn't been really all that impressed with their menu or their food. I remember Gabriel Frasca from back in his Spire days and the food that he was putting out was nothing short of bangin'. At Straight Wharf, it's a little bit more subdued. But after looking at the menu, we ended up in the dining room. I gave a shout out to my boy Sean, who was working the bar kitchen on that night, and Gabriel was out doing a private function.

As the night went, we ordered some sauteed squash blossoms, a house made caviatelli, and Island Creek oysters on the half shell for our starters, and the scallops, the striped bass, and the halibut for our entrees. The cookie had a glass of sauvignon blanc. The killa had a glass of chardonnay, and I had a glass of the gruner. As a mid course, they sent us half orders of the Straight Wharf lobster bake, which included shelled butter poached lobster, little neck clams, chorizo, and fingerling potatoes over a sweet corn puree. Mighty tasty. I have no clue why they chose to send that as a mid course. It's an expensive thing to send. They charge a market price for it, which happened to be $42. What means that they sent out what essentially would have cost a normal person about $61. On top of that, when we ordered dessert, I ordered a glass of brachetto d'acqui, and they brought a glass for each of us. And, yes, we all got dessert.

I walked out of dinner both full and buzzed. Throughout the day I had about a half a bottle of wine plus a couple of glasses of wine with dinner. It doesn't seem like much, as it was spaced out over about four hours, but I think my dehydration from my six day work week in a hella hot kitchen and only being able to replenish my fluids so much made the booze take hold a little bit more. The night before, I was tipsy after a beer and two drinks when I met my friend out. I guess I have to be a bit more careful. I'm not about to feel like a bag of shit because I wasn't careful.

After dinner the killa and I came back to the restaurant and invaded the kitchen as the rest of the cooks were finishing their prep lists for the next day, but I was getting the sleepy drunk action, a trait passed down from my father, and went upstairs and crashed out for a couple of hours.

I probably should have just passed out for the night but I woke up to answer some text messages and to get something to drink. I ended up watching "Definitely, Maybe" with one room mate and then watched a couple of episodes of "The United States of Tara" with another. And now it's five in the morning. It's really time to go to sleep. We're expecting to do over two hundred on each of the next two days, so I have to get my rest so I can get my game face on. Two hundred covers in a recession is a good thing, but it also means that more people are ordering apps and entrees. This means that the hot apps stations gets fucked both ways. I gotta get ready to bend over and brace, because I'm gonna get fucked in a very uncomfortable place (like the back of a Volkswagon).