Listening: Yeah, I've been blind and all that's been lost is a short loop running round my mind.
What's my problem? You can never go home.
Well, I'm back in Atlanta after being in Orlando for a week or so. I have to say that this trip was pretty lackluster. It was by far one of the less fun trips to Disney in recent memory. To preface this for those of you who don't really know me all that well, I have been going to Disney World since I was a zygote. I've been to Disney World about as many times as years that I have been alive (though I may have slipped, since I haven't been much over the past three years).
My family moved a number of times when I was a kid. Six years in Boston, six in suburban St. Louis, and six in Chicago (roughly). The only real constant that I had was Disney World. It was the only place that my parents took my brother and I for vacation. There was that one year that we went to Sanibel Island. I had a great time taunting fiddler crabs and playing in the sand and the (as I remember it) clear water, but I don't think my parents had a very good time. Go figure. The kid has fun at an adult place and the adults have fun at the kid's place.
Anyhow, I have been going to Disney World since it was just the Magic Kingdom, Epcot, The Contemporary Resort, The Polynesian Resort, Fort Wilderness, and the Disney Villas. That was back when Downtown Disney was called The Village. There was no Disney Hollywood Studios, no Animal Kingdom, no Vacation Club, no Pleasure Island, and no Boardwalk.
Don't get me wrong. I still love Disney. It's just that there have been some changes to the land of the mouse, changes that I just don't really dig. They're changes that really turn me off about the place that is essentially the closest that I really have to "home." Some of the things that I now hate about the Disney experience are things that they have added, but there are also things that they have taken away from me that really irk the hell out of me. There are things that they have "improved" but what they mean by "improve" is that they have destroyed it.
So, now I'll count down the top ten things that I hate about Disney right now.
10) No handwiches to be found anywhere: When I was a kid in the Magic Kingdom, there was, and still is, a fast food stand across from Space Mountain, under what was then Star Jets, and what is now called Astro Orbiters called the Lunching Pad. This place used to sell these wonderful lunch creations called "Handwiches." "Handwiches" are the last eight inches of an Italian loaf/baguette that have been hollowed out and filled with either pasta and meat sauce (my favorite) or tuna salad. It was ingenious. It was good, tasty food packages such that one could continue walking around the park enjoying the scenery. These can no longer be found. To be honest, I haven't seen them in a good fifteen or twenty years. I lament about them constantly while there, which leads me to the next reason that I hate Disney World, or more importantly, the Disney Corporation.
9) Lack of quick dining choices in the parks: In an age where obesity is a problem, and healthy food options are really being searched for, there's really no variation in fast food around any of the Disney World parks. In every park, you can find turkey legs, french fries, popcorn, hot dogs, pretzels, ice cream, pizza and hamburgers. Sure, you can find a chicken sandwich if you look really hard or you wait in line for a half hour. Occasionally, you'll find a lackluster salad. But the truth of the matter is that the options out there aren't that good. I think that in Epcot, you have the best food options out there, at least in the World Showcase section of the park. But still, they could be doing so much more. Sure they sell crepes in the France Pavilion, fried rice in the China Pavilion, and udon in the Japanese Pavilion. I want to see falafel and shwarma at the Moroccan Pavilion and bruschetta at the Italian Pavilion. Even then, in the rest of the parks, it's easy to bust out some carts and make some nice, healthy, quick street food. It's because of the fast food that they're serving that brings me to the next thing that I hate about going to Disney World.
8) Obese People: I hate obese people. I know I shouldn't hate them, but I do. I abhor them, especially when they play the "Woe is me. I'm handicapped. Don't discriminate against me." I realize that a part, whether it be big or small, is played by genetics, and you can't really faulty people for that. However, I'm not willing to give people a free pass if they're "morbidly" obese. Believe it or not, there are a TON of obese people running around Disney World. I shouldn't say running. I think I could say waddling. Sometimes I should say scooting. See, a lot of them, these days, are renting these little motorized scooters to ride around the parks. Back in the day, both the obese people and the scooters were few and far between. Now it seems like they're everywhere. My mother said that during their "Soap Opera" weekend, they all come out to see the soap opera stars. I can't even imagine. When you can only fit four people abreast in a space where you can fit ten average sized people abreast, you know there's a problem. I realize that Disney World can't discriminate who they let in, but do they really have to make it as easy as they make it for them? This brings me to my next beef.
7) The Scooters: I already touched upon the whole obese people in scooters, but they're not who I have the beef with. See, there are other people renting scooters and wheelchairs at Disney World parks, and they're not always people who need them. There are legit people out there who have medical conditions that need to have a wheelchair or a scooter, people with broken bones, frail bones, hell, even people with chronic fatigue, but I saw people in wheelchairs and scooters that totally didn't need them. If you're going to come to an amusement park, get off your lazy fuckin' ass and walk around the park. It used to be that the people in wheelchairs and scooters went straight to the front of the line in the attractions. There have been so many people taking advantage of that, that Disney has said that you need a special handicapped card to go to the front of the line. Even that, I think is lame.
6) The Lines: I've never been phased much by the long wait times to get onto an attraction at Disney World. Not once have I batted an eye at a wait until this trip. This trip, and I realize that I was there during an extremely busy time, the lines both shocked and awed me. The standby line wait time that I saw topped out at 260 minutes. That's over four hours. Really? Four whole hours to get on a ride? Half a white collar workday? I'll throw the bullshit card down on that one. That was the case on not just one attraction, but try at least four in Epcot, at least four in Disney Hollywood Studios, and I'm sure that the Magic Kingdom and the Animal Kingdom had their own waits. Disney created this thing called Fastpass to try to remedy this a few years ago. You would stick your ticket in and you would get an appointment to get into a much shorter line for the attraction at a specific time. You could get one Fastpass every two hours or so. So, you would get your Fastpass and then get in line for another attraction, and probably by the time you had finished that attraction and went to do something random, it would be time for you to ride the first attraction. It was good. But now, all of the Fastpasses are gone before noon, so a lot of people are forced to stand in these four hour lines. It blows. It blows a lot.
5) Kids with Space Issues: On my last day at Disney World, my family and I went to the Toy Story Midway Mania ride/game in Disney Hollywood Studios. It's a great game, with a great an entertaining line to get to the attraction. What makes it not so great on this particular day were the kids behind us in line. Now, I realize that not all kids are like this, but there is a great number of them who are, so I still have to say something. I also realize that it may not be a problem with the kids, but a problem with the parents. But it does get annoying when kids squirm ahead of their parents, cause a ruckas, and generally don't follow the rules of social space. This one brat and his sister to squirm past me in line just as I was passing this post. For some reason, I was waddling a bit and squished the kids against the post. The sister ended up grabbing my leg, and I had to shake her off. I don't know where that kid has been. I don't know where her hands have been, and I'm no pedophile. Her hands should NOT be wrapped around my leg. It was really quite annoying. And though this sounds like an isolated incident, there are plenty of kids who aren't kept in check and they don't know where social boundaries are. I know that, too, isn't Disney's problem, but American society's as a whole, but there is such a bigger concentration of them in Disney World.
4) Nightlife for Adults: Sure, Disney World is a family place. Sure, much of the stuff in the parks should be geared towards people with kids and such. And I'm not asking for there to be stripper poles placed strategically around the Magic Kingdom or for the shells on Ariel's bra to be reduced to pasties, but there are people who are over twenty one years of age who aren't tied down to kids who go to Disney World. There has to be something to do for us after the parks close. Unfortunately, Pleasure Island is closed for renovations. They had a handful of cheesy clubs. I think what I'm most upset about was the fact that on a Friday night, the bar/lounge in my hotel closed up shop promptly at midnight. That shit ain't right. What has the world come to when a hotel lounge is closed at midnight? Disney definitely needs to work on alcoves for adults looking to get away from the crying children.
3) The Bus Drivers: Back when I was a kid, there weren't any automated PA systems on busses as they take you to and from the parks and resort hotels. Back when I was a kid, they had drivers with personality. They had entertaining people driving their vehicles. Sometimes you get a zany one, and sometimes you get a friendly one, but regardless they were all really interesting people. Now, all announcements are made by automated PA system. The drivers say very little other than, "hello" and "have a great day/night." There's no little factoids being thrown out. There is no random sing-alongs. There are no tips to avoiding the crowds (though I know those already). These drivers are downright boring. Bring back the colorful drivers, I say!
2) The General State of Sit-Down Dining: There are many things wrong with the current state of dining in Disney World. Back in the day, each of the sit down restaurants in both the resort hotels as well as the sit-down restaurants in the parks had their own real flavor in their menus. Now, all menus are vaguely reminiscent of each other. They all have a chicken dish. I don't remember seeing a duck dish on any menu I passed by. They all have a steak. There's usually a pork loin dish. I think that the only real variation that I saw was in the spicing. A place with an African bend on the menu, for some reason, had Nantucket Bay scallops on the menu. A place that had a seafood based menu still had all of the usual suspects (chicken, steak, pork), but didn't really have anything creative preparations of such proteins. Aside from that, the quality of food has gone down. The food seems to be done in a very sloppy manner. It has truly become of the level of Chili's for twice the price, in some cases. Some of these places have become a true turn-and-burn establishments. This is the fault of two things. First of all, it's clear that they're overbooking the reservations. A reservationist should know the capacity of a restaurant and the amount of time that it takes for a typical party to eat. Clearly, they do not. Second, there are so many new hotel units being built every day that they're not keeping up with the seats in restaurants. They're not growing their restaurant business appropriately. This leads to a truly shitty dining experience, an experience that I shake my head at as I lament the day that I ate at the California Grill at the Contemporary Resort and discovered that I loved food.
1) 16 Year Olds: Being a 30 year old, single, angry urban dweller, my eyes are always flitting to the next shiny object. When you're in Disney World, this can prove to be a humbling experience. See, there aren't a whole lot of single women at Disney World between the ages of say 24 and 35. You see a chica with a nice looking shape and OH MY GOD SHE HAS BRACES AND IS 16 YEARS OLD! I'M SUCH A PERV! So, as I walk around the parks, I'm forced to say in a hushed tone to myself, "Damn the 16 year olds." See they're old enough to look really hot, but young enough to have you thrown in jail for even insinuating that I might be a fun ride that she may want to wait in line for. Yes. The 16 year olds in Disney World kill me... along with the MILFs.
But Disney isn't all bad, despite all of their faults and the fact that they keep "updating" some attractions, which, in code, means "make them suck." There are some great new rides. You can get some really nice wine in some places on Disney property. You don't need to carry any cash (you charge it all to the room). And there is a decent amount of entertainment around most bends. Sure, it's not the Disney of my youth, and for that, I will be forever bitter. But it's not a bad place to go. I think that I would be happy if they fixed all of the dining problems and maybe got some of the fattys out of my way. It's not as if I'm going to stop going to Disney World, but I do hope that as the years go by, they get their heads out of their asses and start fixing some of the major problems that they have.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Fairies Do Fly
Listening: But I don’t know what I was expecting to find. Am I losing my mind, or just biding my time?
What's my problem? I found out Tinkerbelle really is a fairy.
Okay. I'm delinquent, so I'll throw out this hook and line to appease the two or three people who check the blog every day. That's right. I know you check it, like little blog-hos waiting for their John to drop a post.
So over the past week and a half I have been in Atlanta, GA and at Disney World in FL. There have been a great many things I have learned in this time. First and most surprising is that I like the Wii. That's right. This guy who doesn't really play video games likes that machine surrounded in a candy shell of hype called the Wii. I could probably play Mario Kart and the Wii Fit for hours. I mean, how can you not like a game where you race go-karts? Furthermore, how can you not like a game that taunts you for being fat and uncoordinated. It's not outright taunting. It's subtle taunting that makes you think, "Is this little board here giving me shit?"
The second, and probably the most disturbing thing that I have discovered is that Tinkerbelle is a man, baby. I always knew that she was a fairy, but a... fairy? Yeesh. How, you might ask, did I find this out? Well, last night, I was at the Magic Kingdom for their fireworks show called "Wishes." At one point, Tinkerbelle flies from the castle, over the crowd and out of the park. It just so happens that my fam and I were directly under the zip line that Tinkerbelle was to "fly" along.
As Tinkerbelle started the journey and got closer and closer to us, something looked eerily wrong. This "fairy" had man arms and man legs. All of a sudden, my mother says, "Oh my god, that's a guy!" We all looked closer. Sure enough, it was a guy. My first response, and it was said a little bit too loud was, "OH MY GOD! That's not just a FAIRY, that's a QUEEN!" I think I have the right to call any man with a green dress and butterfly wings a raging queen. My entire family stood in shock and awe that a man was attempting to pass himself off as the master of pixie dust. This, as you can tell, became the joke of the night. You know, things like, "At least we REALLY know that fairies can fly" and "Let's just hope he doesn't try to sprinkle his pixie dust on the crowd."
As far as things I have acquired over the past few weeks, I have gotten a Canon SD 890IS digital camera, which seems to be doing the job. I'll have to wait until I buy a SD card reader and transfer the images and videos onto my computer to really find out.
I have also bought the first three seasons of "How I Met Your Mother." I actually got into the series during its second season. Since I have the first season, I can catch up on what happened before I got in. I have to say that the first season, though still hilarious, isn't as good as it has gotten over the past couple of seasons. Barney is less legen... wait for it... dary, and more dork. Still funny though. They have in subsequent seasons removed or lessened the frequency of recurring jokes, such as Barney saying the line, "Suit up!" in every episode, or seeing the kids that the narrator is talking to in every episode, but if you start late and watch the first season, there are a lot of references back to different items, such as the London phone booth, the swords on the wall, and the blue French horn.
I know that this doesn't really mean anything to anyone who doesn't watch this show, but it is the funniest TV show still in production. It's a toss up whether this show or the British show, "Coupling" is funnier. Luckily, now I have both series in their entirety, or at least as much as has been released.
Also, while here at Disney World, something weird happened to my back. I must have slept on it wrong (another reason why I love my bed at home... this shit don't happen). Right now, my back aches on the right side, below my shoulder blade. Sometimes when I breathe in, or when I reach into my pocket, I get a sharp jolting pain. It sucks. I answered my phone which was in my right pocket and nearly let out a yelp of pain. That wouldn't have been too kitchenly of me. It sucks and I'm on day two of it. I'm thinking I must have popped a rib in my sleep and I just need to let it heal and reset. It sucks though. It really sucks.
Well, it's the third of January. I'll be back in Boston by 9PM on the seventh, unless I get bumped again. *crosses fingers & hopes for free money* And I have less than a month before I want to depart the country. Earlier this summer I was a voracious reader when it came to guidebooks and online information about southeast Asia. Now, I've sort of let it go. I'm going to just sort of wing it. I still have to buy my flights and get some pants hemmed. Hopefully the next few weeks will be easy enough for me to get it all done.
Anyhow, that's all I have to say for now. Lots to do, lots to do, and no way to do it until I get back to Boston. I have to say that the more and more I think about it, the more that I don't want to work that much between now and my trip. I'm going to work whatever shift Marsoir throws at me, because I think that, monetarily, it will be in my best interest. However, I don't want to do it and feel screwed when it comes down to the wire and I need to have all of my gear and my bags packed. Can't do anything about it right now though. So I guess I'll just try to relax, ignore the pain in my back and spend one more day with Mickey Mouse.
What's my problem? I found out Tinkerbelle really is a fairy.
Okay. I'm delinquent, so I'll throw out this hook and line to appease the two or three people who check the blog every day. That's right. I know you check it, like little blog-hos waiting for their John to drop a post.
So over the past week and a half I have been in Atlanta, GA and at Disney World in FL. There have been a great many things I have learned in this time. First and most surprising is that I like the Wii. That's right. This guy who doesn't really play video games likes that machine surrounded in a candy shell of hype called the Wii. I could probably play Mario Kart and the Wii Fit for hours. I mean, how can you not like a game where you race go-karts? Furthermore, how can you not like a game that taunts you for being fat and uncoordinated. It's not outright taunting. It's subtle taunting that makes you think, "Is this little board here giving me shit?"
The second, and probably the most disturbing thing that I have discovered is that Tinkerbelle is a man, baby. I always knew that she was a fairy, but a... fairy? Yeesh. How, you might ask, did I find this out? Well, last night, I was at the Magic Kingdom for their fireworks show called "Wishes." At one point, Tinkerbelle flies from the castle, over the crowd and out of the park. It just so happens that my fam and I were directly under the zip line that Tinkerbelle was to "fly" along.
As Tinkerbelle started the journey and got closer and closer to us, something looked eerily wrong. This "fairy" had man arms and man legs. All of a sudden, my mother says, "Oh my god, that's a guy!" We all looked closer. Sure enough, it was a guy. My first response, and it was said a little bit too loud was, "OH MY GOD! That's not just a FAIRY, that's a QUEEN!" I think I have the right to call any man with a green dress and butterfly wings a raging queen. My entire family stood in shock and awe that a man was attempting to pass himself off as the master of pixie dust. This, as you can tell, became the joke of the night. You know, things like, "At least we REALLY know that fairies can fly" and "Let's just hope he doesn't try to sprinkle his pixie dust on the crowd."
As far as things I have acquired over the past few weeks, I have gotten a Canon SD 890IS digital camera, which seems to be doing the job. I'll have to wait until I buy a SD card reader and transfer the images and videos onto my computer to really find out.
I have also bought the first three seasons of "How I Met Your Mother." I actually got into the series during its second season. Since I have the first season, I can catch up on what happened before I got in. I have to say that the first season, though still hilarious, isn't as good as it has gotten over the past couple of seasons. Barney is less legen... wait for it... dary, and more dork. Still funny though. They have in subsequent seasons removed or lessened the frequency of recurring jokes, such as Barney saying the line, "Suit up!" in every episode, or seeing the kids that the narrator is talking to in every episode, but if you start late and watch the first season, there are a lot of references back to different items, such as the London phone booth, the swords on the wall, and the blue French horn.
I know that this doesn't really mean anything to anyone who doesn't watch this show, but it is the funniest TV show still in production. It's a toss up whether this show or the British show, "Coupling" is funnier. Luckily, now I have both series in their entirety, or at least as much as has been released.
Also, while here at Disney World, something weird happened to my back. I must have slept on it wrong (another reason why I love my bed at home... this shit don't happen). Right now, my back aches on the right side, below my shoulder blade. Sometimes when I breathe in, or when I reach into my pocket, I get a sharp jolting pain. It sucks. I answered my phone which was in my right pocket and nearly let out a yelp of pain. That wouldn't have been too kitchenly of me. It sucks and I'm on day two of it. I'm thinking I must have popped a rib in my sleep and I just need to let it heal and reset. It sucks though. It really sucks.
Well, it's the third of January. I'll be back in Boston by 9PM on the seventh, unless I get bumped again. *crosses fingers & hopes for free money* And I have less than a month before I want to depart the country. Earlier this summer I was a voracious reader when it came to guidebooks and online information about southeast Asia. Now, I've sort of let it go. I'm going to just sort of wing it. I still have to buy my flights and get some pants hemmed. Hopefully the next few weeks will be easy enough for me to get it all done.
Anyhow, that's all I have to say for now. Lots to do, lots to do, and no way to do it until I get back to Boston. I have to say that the more and more I think about it, the more that I don't want to work that much between now and my trip. I'm going to work whatever shift Marsoir throws at me, because I think that, monetarily, it will be in my best interest. However, I don't want to do it and feel screwed when it comes down to the wire and I need to have all of my gear and my bags packed. Can't do anything about it right now though. So I guess I'll just try to relax, ignore the pain in my back and spend one more day with Mickey Mouse.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Free Money
Listening: But you must always know how long to stay and when to go.
What's my problem? Even eleven o'clock flights require me to wake up too early.
Not in the ATL. Not too broken up about it either. I'll explain.
Over the last week or so, I have been re-acclimating myself to my apartment. I've been re-acclimating myself to city life. I've been re-acclimating myself to my friends. It feels nice.
I have had some real quality nights of sleep in my own bed. I know that I talk about it a lot. I don't know if my bed in Nantucket was that shitty or if my bed in Cambridge is that faboo. The bottom line is that I get some killer sleep in Cambridge. Another funny thing is that my pillows have multiplied, some from a friend giving me some as a gift, and others from Iria leaving some behind. Right now, there are a total of seven pillows on my full size bed. I can make an igloo of pillows to live in if it gets too cold.
Anyhow, I've been enjoying city life and my city dwelling, but this morning at eleven in the morning, I was supposed to board a plane to suburban wasteland, where the make-up on girls is as thick as the accent from their lips and the stars and bars wave everywhere. It's been a while since I had been down to the 'rent's place in Atlanta, so for all I know, it could have changed for the better. However, the last time I was there, all there was to do was go to a mall or go see a movie. You could sit at home. You could go for a walk (around a gated community). And that's about it. I can't walk to a grocery store. There has to be wheels involved.
When I travel, I like to be flexible. I like to walk up to the gate counter and say, "So... How full is this flight?" If they say that the flight is overbooked or oversold, I then ask them if they are looking for volunteers to be bumped and ask what they're offering. Today, I was rewarded with $400 for avoiding one day in suburban sprawl. That's right. Four hundred bones.
It's not the first time this has happened. One holiday a few years ago, my brother and I got bumped twice on the way to Vancouver. I've been bumped at least six times for at least $2400. If you add in all of the meal vouchers, I have probably made another hundred or two. It's kind of my thing. I paid for my trip to Japan in 2001 with vouchers from being bumped. Unfortunately, with my new occupation, I haven't had much time to travel and, hence, I haven't had a lot of time to get bumped. So, I'm hoping that this is the beginning of a roll. I hope I travel a little bit more and that I can keep rolling my bump dollars.
Tomorrow, I have a ticket on a plane that takes off at half past eight in the morning. I'm hoping to get bumped off that flight too. Anyhow, I need to get some sleep. I gotta catch the first T out in the morning. There's more stuff too, but I'm too tired to recount it right now. Perhaps tomorrow night.
What's my problem? Even eleven o'clock flights require me to wake up too early.
Not in the ATL. Not too broken up about it either. I'll explain.
Over the last week or so, I have been re-acclimating myself to my apartment. I've been re-acclimating myself to city life. I've been re-acclimating myself to my friends. It feels nice.
I have had some real quality nights of sleep in my own bed. I know that I talk about it a lot. I don't know if my bed in Nantucket was that shitty or if my bed in Cambridge is that faboo. The bottom line is that I get some killer sleep in Cambridge. Another funny thing is that my pillows have multiplied, some from a friend giving me some as a gift, and others from Iria leaving some behind. Right now, there are a total of seven pillows on my full size bed. I can make an igloo of pillows to live in if it gets too cold.
Anyhow, I've been enjoying city life and my city dwelling, but this morning at eleven in the morning, I was supposed to board a plane to suburban wasteland, where the make-up on girls is as thick as the accent from their lips and the stars and bars wave everywhere. It's been a while since I had been down to the 'rent's place in Atlanta, so for all I know, it could have changed for the better. However, the last time I was there, all there was to do was go to a mall or go see a movie. You could sit at home. You could go for a walk (around a gated community). And that's about it. I can't walk to a grocery store. There has to be wheels involved.
When I travel, I like to be flexible. I like to walk up to the gate counter and say, "So... How full is this flight?" If they say that the flight is overbooked or oversold, I then ask them if they are looking for volunteers to be bumped and ask what they're offering. Today, I was rewarded with $400 for avoiding one day in suburban sprawl. That's right. Four hundred bones.
It's not the first time this has happened. One holiday a few years ago, my brother and I got bumped twice on the way to Vancouver. I've been bumped at least six times for at least $2400. If you add in all of the meal vouchers, I have probably made another hundred or two. It's kind of my thing. I paid for my trip to Japan in 2001 with vouchers from being bumped. Unfortunately, with my new occupation, I haven't had much time to travel and, hence, I haven't had a lot of time to get bumped. So, I'm hoping that this is the beginning of a roll. I hope I travel a little bit more and that I can keep rolling my bump dollars.
Tomorrow, I have a ticket on a plane that takes off at half past eight in the morning. I'm hoping to get bumped off that flight too. Anyhow, I need to get some sleep. I gotta catch the first T out in the morning. There's more stuff too, but I'm too tired to recount it right now. Perhaps tomorrow night.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
To Do List.
Listening: I don't know what to do with myself. Movies only make me sad. Parties make me feel as bad, 'cause I'm not with you.
What's my problem? I need to be busy.
First day off the island and I am at a loss for what to do. I know I have stuff to do, but I'm just not feeling like I want to do it. I had to unpack today, but I really only unpacked about two thirds of the stuff I brought back, the two thirds that were easy. That included putting dirty laundry into the laundry basket, along with the bedding from the island, putting my shoes in the foyer, unpacking some food brought back, pulling out my toiletries, and, well, that's about it.
It took a great deal of effort to get back home. I was exhausted all day. As noted from the last post, I was awake when I should have been sleeping. I eventually got back to sleep at seven in the morning, and slept for two hours. At nine, I got out of bed, showered, and started to finish packing and cleaning the apartment. It really is amazing how many condiments I had to empty out of the fridge before I wiped it out. At eleven thirty, I went to get my ferry ticket, and more importantly some coffee, before moving my two duffels, my two backpacks, and my bike into the kitchen to get ready to go.
Chef was nice enough to give me a ride to the ferry. If he hadn't offered, I probably would have called a cab. The boat ride was uneventful. I anticipated sleeping the whole way, but I found myself looking out the window, listening to my ipod and watching the spray come off the side of the boat.
When I got off the boat, Sam was running late and had some car trouble going on. I'm not quite sure what was happening, but I know that it DEFINITELY needed to be looked at. I think that at one point I didn't think the car was gonna make it. What made it even more weird was the fact that her car is usually in tip top condition. She keeps this car amazingly maintained. Any little thing, she has fixed.
We did eventually make it back to Boston, but she was running late for work. She ended up leaving me near Harvard Square, swearing that my stuff would be safe in her car parked behind Lumiere. I have to say that I was a little bummed that I had to walk back to Porter Square, but it gave me an opportunity to pick up a CD that I wanted.
See, I took lemons, and I came out with a CD. I bought the new-ish Rachael Yamagata disc "Elephants/Teeth Sinking Into Heart." It's actually a two disc set, each with its own character. I expected the Elephants disc to have more of her upbeat stuff and the Teeth Sinking Into Heart disc to be more downtempo and melancholy, but I was wrong. The Elephants disc was more of the heart wrenching, chilled out, haunting vocals that I have come to love from her. Though I have only given it one serious listen-through, I'm not nearly as impressed with the Teeth Sinking Into Heart disc. It jammed out a bit, but it didn't have any sort feeling like I got from the songs "Worn Me Down" and "1963" from the Happenstance album. Still, regardless, I love her raspy vocals and her honest lyrics and melodies.
Anyhow, after I got home, I immediately dropped my backpack and headed over to the Chez to have my first meal of the day at six o'clock. That's right. Up until that point, I had consumed a mere two cups of coffee, a Pepsi and nothing else. I was HUNGRY. So after dropping off some Nantucket cranberries to Marsoir, I sat down, had a Smuttynose and Cubano. Other than that, my visit to the Chez was pretty standard. There was a person in the dining room who ordered a Manhattan in a wine glass. The couple next to me snickered along with me.
After dinner was naptime. It must have slept for a good couple of hours. I woke up just in time to watch Heroes with my roomie. After watching a little TV, I was off to meet my friend for a drink. She was only in town for the night from the west coast, so it was something that had to be done. By the time I got home it was one in the morning and I was off to dreamland in a hurry.
Today, I woke up late, and as I said before I didn't do much of anything. I spent most of the day aimlessly walking around the city, something I haven't had the opportunity to do in quite some time. There are a million things that I should have been doing. So here's what I have to do in no particular order:
1. Go look at digital cameras
2. Research more about Asia airfare packages
3. Go look at digital scales
4. Re-tool and reorganize my iTunes
5. Organize my room/put away my clothes
6. Do laundry
7. Ask a Mac "Genius" about leaving my computer untouched for 2.5 months
8. Ask a Mac "Genius" about how my computer's fan is really loud sometimes
9. Get a haircut
10. Relax a little
11. Think about getting my scooter (they're on sale at scootersgogreen.com
12. Find moisture-wicking, quick drying boxers at a reasonable price for my trip
13. Get a pair of pants hemmed
14. Eat (I have slacked a bit on this over the last few days)
15. Drop Nantucket cranberries off to Rendezvous and catch up with Ben and Mark
I'm sure that there's more that I have to do, but I think that's a good start to my list. I'm sure that more will be added to it, but the real question is: How much of it will I do tomorrow?
What's my problem? I need to be busy.
First day off the island and I am at a loss for what to do. I know I have stuff to do, but I'm just not feeling like I want to do it. I had to unpack today, but I really only unpacked about two thirds of the stuff I brought back, the two thirds that were easy. That included putting dirty laundry into the laundry basket, along with the bedding from the island, putting my shoes in the foyer, unpacking some food brought back, pulling out my toiletries, and, well, that's about it.
It took a great deal of effort to get back home. I was exhausted all day. As noted from the last post, I was awake when I should have been sleeping. I eventually got back to sleep at seven in the morning, and slept for two hours. At nine, I got out of bed, showered, and started to finish packing and cleaning the apartment. It really is amazing how many condiments I had to empty out of the fridge before I wiped it out. At eleven thirty, I went to get my ferry ticket, and more importantly some coffee, before moving my two duffels, my two backpacks, and my bike into the kitchen to get ready to go.
Chef was nice enough to give me a ride to the ferry. If he hadn't offered, I probably would have called a cab. The boat ride was uneventful. I anticipated sleeping the whole way, but I found myself looking out the window, listening to my ipod and watching the spray come off the side of the boat.
When I got off the boat, Sam was running late and had some car trouble going on. I'm not quite sure what was happening, but I know that it DEFINITELY needed to be looked at. I think that at one point I didn't think the car was gonna make it. What made it even more weird was the fact that her car is usually in tip top condition. She keeps this car amazingly maintained. Any little thing, she has fixed.
We did eventually make it back to Boston, but she was running late for work. She ended up leaving me near Harvard Square, swearing that my stuff would be safe in her car parked behind Lumiere. I have to say that I was a little bummed that I had to walk back to Porter Square, but it gave me an opportunity to pick up a CD that I wanted.
See, I took lemons, and I came out with a CD. I bought the new-ish Rachael Yamagata disc "Elephants/Teeth Sinking Into Heart." It's actually a two disc set, each with its own character. I expected the Elephants disc to have more of her upbeat stuff and the Teeth Sinking Into Heart disc to be more downtempo and melancholy, but I was wrong. The Elephants disc was more of the heart wrenching, chilled out, haunting vocals that I have come to love from her. Though I have only given it one serious listen-through, I'm not nearly as impressed with the Teeth Sinking Into Heart disc. It jammed out a bit, but it didn't have any sort feeling like I got from the songs "Worn Me Down" and "1963" from the Happenstance album. Still, regardless, I love her raspy vocals and her honest lyrics and melodies.
Anyhow, after I got home, I immediately dropped my backpack and headed over to the Chez to have my first meal of the day at six o'clock. That's right. Up until that point, I had consumed a mere two cups of coffee, a Pepsi and nothing else. I was HUNGRY. So after dropping off some Nantucket cranberries to Marsoir, I sat down, had a Smuttynose and Cubano. Other than that, my visit to the Chez was pretty standard. There was a person in the dining room who ordered a Manhattan in a wine glass. The couple next to me snickered along with me.
After dinner was naptime. It must have slept for a good couple of hours. I woke up just in time to watch Heroes with my roomie. After watching a little TV, I was off to meet my friend for a drink. She was only in town for the night from the west coast, so it was something that had to be done. By the time I got home it was one in the morning and I was off to dreamland in a hurry.
Today, I woke up late, and as I said before I didn't do much of anything. I spent most of the day aimlessly walking around the city, something I haven't had the opportunity to do in quite some time. There are a million things that I should have been doing. So here's what I have to do in no particular order:
1. Go look at digital cameras
2. Research more about Asia airfare packages
3. Go look at digital scales
4. Re-tool and reorganize my iTunes
5. Organize my room/put away my clothes
6. Do laundry
7. Ask a Mac "Genius" about leaving my computer untouched for 2.5 months
8. Ask a Mac "Genius" about how my computer's fan is really loud sometimes
9. Get a haircut
10. Relax a little
11. Think about getting my scooter (they're on sale at scootersgogreen.com
12. Find moisture-wicking, quick drying boxers at a reasonable price for my trip
13. Get a pair of pants hemmed
14. Eat (I have slacked a bit on this over the last few days)
15. Drop Nantucket cranberries off to Rendezvous and catch up with Ben and Mark
I'm sure that there's more that I have to do, but I think that's a good start to my list. I'm sure that more will be added to it, but the real question is: How much of it will I do tomorrow?
Monday, December 15, 2008
Day 210: Exodus
Listening: I wanna stop silly little games you and me play. And I am feeling right on. If you feel the same way, baby, let me know right away.
What's my problem? It's 5:30AM and I'm awake.
It's half past five in the morning. I should be asleep. I have been awake for the past four or so hours. After I came home from the bar at around midnight, I fell right to sleep. A couple of hours later, I was awake again. And now I have a bit of a headache. There are a lot of things going on in my mind from the professional to the personal, all of which I wish I could clear out of my brain. And to make it all even better, I haven't been able to get the smell of bleach off of my hands from the intense scrub down of the kitchen earlier.
The last day of service was pretty calm. Since I got raped on the second to last night of service, I really was the only person with any prep to do. When I prepped on the second to last day, I tried to make just enough to get me through the last day. What I didn't count on was that the servers would sell seventeen pork chops. We did a total of about fifty covers that night. That's more than a third of the diners having pork chops. I also sold quite a bit of beef tenderloin and buffalo as well. It's kind of amazing how a station can just get completely obliterated when another station has their thumbs up their asses.
Anyhow, I actually had to prep on the last day of service. I was riding a little low and uncomfortable on collard greens, orzo, cheese sauce and crushed fingerling potatoes. I prepped the collards, orzo and the cheese sauce, but I decided to ride out the crushed fingerlings. As it turned out, I was right on for the crushed fingerlings, the cheese sauce and the orzo, but came out way ahead with the collards. Bastard guests who don't follow a trend! I expected to sell at least the nine pork chops I had on hand, marinated, and even to cut into the cryo-vaced ones I had in reserve. I only sold eight. I sold eight buffalo, four beef tenderloins, and one veg tart. All in all, it was a pretty easy night. I did sweat the crushed potatoes around the middle of service, but when the last order rolled in, I had a half a quart left. I actually started with two and a quarter quarts.
After service, we did some massive cleaning. The salamander, the grill and the ovens all got taken apart and cleaned. The low-boy fridges got emptied and scrubbed out. Dishes, glasses, and flatware, as well as all of the food storage plastics, all got put in storage. Cleaning up felt like it took significantly longer than usual, and it did take longer, but not as long as I thought it was taking. Before I knew it, though, the nightly clean was done and all that was left was the finishing and detailing that we did today.
Also on the last day of service, Chef asked me to have a sit down. We discussed where I was at as far as coming back next season. I told him that I thought that it would be good for me on many levels to come back. Earlier in the day, I had run into Pies in town and asked him if he had a problem with me coming back. He said that he'd be fine with it, and I'm guessing that he relayed that back to Chef. After we established that I would be coming back, Chef kind of gave me a bit of a reality check. He outlined things that he thought that I would need to work on, namely prep-speed/efficiency, quality/consistency, and kind of not strictly paying attention to my own station/getting a greater scope of the kitchen. Some of the stuff that he said was kind of hard to hear. It was all stuff that I have going on in my head already, that I beat myself up over, so hearing someone else say it just sucked.
Cleaning day was easy. I got there a bit late, because Chef said to be there between eleven and eleven thirty. I showed up at twenty past eleven after getting coffee and chatting with my friend Megan. The front of the house people were there at ten and the kitchen staff all rolled in around eleven. So, I was the last man there today. What sucked about the cleaning day was that there was no list of things to do. You had to keep asking and asking and asking. I kind of wished that I just had a list of things to do and I could just do it.
After cleaning day, six of us went to Kitty Murtaugh's for some brunch. I had my very first Tanqueray Bloody Mary. I have to say it beats the piss out of a vodka Bloody Mary. It's just so much smoother.
Tonight was Peroni's farewell party. She has been on the island for about five years or so and is moving to San Francisco to do something with nutrition and whole foods. It was at this party that Pies and I had another talk about how the last two months went down, and we finally connected on what was happening. I understood where he was coming from, as he thought I was slacking because I was short-timing it. I thought he was being a non-constructive bitch, because he was. We cleared it all up and we're set straight for next season. It was just so frustrating these past couple of months.
The one thing that was said by both Chef and by Pies in our conversations that made me feel good was that I was cooking at an extraordinarily high level for a guy who has only been cooking professionally for three or four years without any culinary training. Of course, it was also coupled with the phrase, "but you still have a lot to learn and a lot to work on." I choose to focus more on the positive side.
So, today, I go back to civilization, to tackle what I think is going to be a can of worms. There are a lot of things that I have to take care of, and a lot of things that I need to tie up before I head to Asia. All I want to do, though, for now, is chill the fuck out. I want to work when I want to work and I want to see people I want to see. I want to sleep how I want to sleep, and I want to walk where I want to walk. Vacation is upon me. Hopefully I won't spend too much money before the good part gets here.
Random note: I find that when I try to type the word "good," I often type the word "food." Coincidence of the keys being too close together? I think not. Imagine the last sentence of that last paragraph if I had switched the two words. The sentence would kind of have the same meaning. Maybe that's just the quarter past six in the morning talking.
What's my problem? It's 5:30AM and I'm awake.
It's half past five in the morning. I should be asleep. I have been awake for the past four or so hours. After I came home from the bar at around midnight, I fell right to sleep. A couple of hours later, I was awake again. And now I have a bit of a headache. There are a lot of things going on in my mind from the professional to the personal, all of which I wish I could clear out of my brain. And to make it all even better, I haven't been able to get the smell of bleach off of my hands from the intense scrub down of the kitchen earlier.
The last day of service was pretty calm. Since I got raped on the second to last night of service, I really was the only person with any prep to do. When I prepped on the second to last day, I tried to make just enough to get me through the last day. What I didn't count on was that the servers would sell seventeen pork chops. We did a total of about fifty covers that night. That's more than a third of the diners having pork chops. I also sold quite a bit of beef tenderloin and buffalo as well. It's kind of amazing how a station can just get completely obliterated when another station has their thumbs up their asses.
Anyhow, I actually had to prep on the last day of service. I was riding a little low and uncomfortable on collard greens, orzo, cheese sauce and crushed fingerling potatoes. I prepped the collards, orzo and the cheese sauce, but I decided to ride out the crushed fingerlings. As it turned out, I was right on for the crushed fingerlings, the cheese sauce and the orzo, but came out way ahead with the collards. Bastard guests who don't follow a trend! I expected to sell at least the nine pork chops I had on hand, marinated, and even to cut into the cryo-vaced ones I had in reserve. I only sold eight. I sold eight buffalo, four beef tenderloins, and one veg tart. All in all, it was a pretty easy night. I did sweat the crushed potatoes around the middle of service, but when the last order rolled in, I had a half a quart left. I actually started with two and a quarter quarts.
After service, we did some massive cleaning. The salamander, the grill and the ovens all got taken apart and cleaned. The low-boy fridges got emptied and scrubbed out. Dishes, glasses, and flatware, as well as all of the food storage plastics, all got put in storage. Cleaning up felt like it took significantly longer than usual, and it did take longer, but not as long as I thought it was taking. Before I knew it, though, the nightly clean was done and all that was left was the finishing and detailing that we did today.
Also on the last day of service, Chef asked me to have a sit down. We discussed where I was at as far as coming back next season. I told him that I thought that it would be good for me on many levels to come back. Earlier in the day, I had run into Pies in town and asked him if he had a problem with me coming back. He said that he'd be fine with it, and I'm guessing that he relayed that back to Chef. After we established that I would be coming back, Chef kind of gave me a bit of a reality check. He outlined things that he thought that I would need to work on, namely prep-speed/efficiency, quality/consistency, and kind of not strictly paying attention to my own station/getting a greater scope of the kitchen. Some of the stuff that he said was kind of hard to hear. It was all stuff that I have going on in my head already, that I beat myself up over, so hearing someone else say it just sucked.
Cleaning day was easy. I got there a bit late, because Chef said to be there between eleven and eleven thirty. I showed up at twenty past eleven after getting coffee and chatting with my friend Megan. The front of the house people were there at ten and the kitchen staff all rolled in around eleven. So, I was the last man there today. What sucked about the cleaning day was that there was no list of things to do. You had to keep asking and asking and asking. I kind of wished that I just had a list of things to do and I could just do it.
After cleaning day, six of us went to Kitty Murtaugh's for some brunch. I had my very first Tanqueray Bloody Mary. I have to say it beats the piss out of a vodka Bloody Mary. It's just so much smoother.
Tonight was Peroni's farewell party. She has been on the island for about five years or so and is moving to San Francisco to do something with nutrition and whole foods. It was at this party that Pies and I had another talk about how the last two months went down, and we finally connected on what was happening. I understood where he was coming from, as he thought I was slacking because I was short-timing it. I thought he was being a non-constructive bitch, because he was. We cleared it all up and we're set straight for next season. It was just so frustrating these past couple of months.
The one thing that was said by both Chef and by Pies in our conversations that made me feel good was that I was cooking at an extraordinarily high level for a guy who has only been cooking professionally for three or four years without any culinary training. Of course, it was also coupled with the phrase, "but you still have a lot to learn and a lot to work on." I choose to focus more on the positive side.
So, today, I go back to civilization, to tackle what I think is going to be a can of worms. There are a lot of things that I have to take care of, and a lot of things that I need to tie up before I head to Asia. All I want to do, though, for now, is chill the fuck out. I want to work when I want to work and I want to see people I want to see. I want to sleep how I want to sleep, and I want to walk where I want to walk. Vacation is upon me. Hopefully I won't spend too much money before the good part gets here.
Random note: I find that when I try to type the word "good," I often type the word "food." Coincidence of the keys being too close together? I think not. Imagine the last sentence of that last paragraph if I had switched the two words. The sentence would kind of have the same meaning. Maybe that's just the quarter past six in the morning talking.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Day 203: Asian-Jacking, Sport Loitering, & Slacking Off
Listening: I fell into a winter slide and ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow, just eeking out my measly pies.
What's my problem? My delinquency.
It's a quarter to three and I'm in my apartment hanging out on the internet with a friend plinking on her keyboard on the other couch. There will be food served tonight. There will be food consumed at the restaurant. I do not have the day off. I just have nothing of value to do in the kitchen until it comes to make staff meal. My list looks a little like this:
Check b-nut (butternut squash)
Check orzo
Braise beef cheeks for use on Thursday or Friday.
Staff meal.
Not a whole lot. Apparently Chef had already checked my b-nut and my orzo before I even went in late at two o'clock. The beef cheeks, he said, could be done on Thursday if I really wanted to put them off. He told me to go home for a while. I'm glad I didn't have much of a commute, just down the stairs. He sent Pies home for a while too. Pablo was told not to come in until late as well.
We have fifteen on. I can't see us doing much more than thirty. I'm just hoping to move some of my proteins.
The note of my upcoming slow service is, by no means, an excuse for my delinquency in posting. I have an excuse though. I have become the victim of "Asian-jacking." No. Not that kind of jacking. It's like hijacking, but instead of being swooped away by people you don't know for an agenda you don't know, you're surprisingly swooped away by a fellow Asian person, and brought on an potentially aimless adventure. Sometimes the adventure has direction, but it doesn't necessarily need to. One of my friends was "Asian-jacked" by being texted to come out of her house where her friend was already there, led to get sushi and whisked away to another house, all completely not premeditated by the victim of the "Asian-jacking."
I was "Asian-jacked" by my friend the other day (though it has happened a couple of times since then). She texted me for coffee, not realizing that I was one of those folks who lingers in bed for much longer than the normal person. Successful in rousing me from bed, we proceeded to have breakfast at the Downy Flake, sat there for a good few hours watching people come and go. We then drove out to Altar Rock, hung out there for a while. I helped her move some stuff to her new digs and then went to the Cisco brewery. We had a couple of pints and then went for dinner at Kitty Murtaugh's. We sat there for HOURS just drinking water after we finished. I came up with the idea that we had been sport loitering all day. We would seriously go somewhere, hang out for long periods of time, go somewhere else and hang out there for long periods of time. The word loitering was brought up by my friend, but it kind of went beyond just simple loitering. It took some serious skill, practice and dedication. Or maybe it just takes a dead island and two reasonably intellectual people who like to talk.
Anyhow it's a quarter past three. Maybe I should be going in soon. *sigh* Time for six hours of boredom. It's like the summer in Cambridge, but cold and with nowhere to go. I'll be back in the city tomorrow for catering prep with the Chez folks. It should be a good time. Maybe I'll even get some dim sum while I'm there.
What's my problem? My delinquency.
It's a quarter to three and I'm in my apartment hanging out on the internet with a friend plinking on her keyboard on the other couch. There will be food served tonight. There will be food consumed at the restaurant. I do not have the day off. I just have nothing of value to do in the kitchen until it comes to make staff meal. My list looks a little like this:
Check b-nut (butternut squash)
Check orzo
Braise beef cheeks for use on Thursday or Friday.
Staff meal.
Not a whole lot. Apparently Chef had already checked my b-nut and my orzo before I even went in late at two o'clock. The beef cheeks, he said, could be done on Thursday if I really wanted to put them off. He told me to go home for a while. I'm glad I didn't have much of a commute, just down the stairs. He sent Pies home for a while too. Pablo was told not to come in until late as well.
We have fifteen on. I can't see us doing much more than thirty. I'm just hoping to move some of my proteins.
The note of my upcoming slow service is, by no means, an excuse for my delinquency in posting. I have an excuse though. I have become the victim of "Asian-jacking." No. Not that kind of jacking. It's like hijacking, but instead of being swooped away by people you don't know for an agenda you don't know, you're surprisingly swooped away by a fellow Asian person, and brought on an potentially aimless adventure. Sometimes the adventure has direction, but it doesn't necessarily need to. One of my friends was "Asian-jacked" by being texted to come out of her house where her friend was already there, led to get sushi and whisked away to another house, all completely not premeditated by the victim of the "Asian-jacking."
I was "Asian-jacked" by my friend the other day (though it has happened a couple of times since then). She texted me for coffee, not realizing that I was one of those folks who lingers in bed for much longer than the normal person. Successful in rousing me from bed, we proceeded to have breakfast at the Downy Flake, sat there for a good few hours watching people come and go. We then drove out to Altar Rock, hung out there for a while. I helped her move some stuff to her new digs and then went to the Cisco brewery. We had a couple of pints and then went for dinner at Kitty Murtaugh's. We sat there for HOURS just drinking water after we finished. I came up with the idea that we had been sport loitering all day. We would seriously go somewhere, hang out for long periods of time, go somewhere else and hang out there for long periods of time. The word loitering was brought up by my friend, but it kind of went beyond just simple loitering. It took some serious skill, practice and dedication. Or maybe it just takes a dead island and two reasonably intellectual people who like to talk.
Anyhow it's a quarter past three. Maybe I should be going in soon. *sigh* Time for six hours of boredom. It's like the summer in Cambridge, but cold and with nowhere to go. I'll be back in the city tomorrow for catering prep with the Chez folks. It should be a good time. Maybe I'll even get some dim sum while I'm there.
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