IPOD
RADIO
Apparently I've been in unintentional hiding.
I think I'm going to find a new job. I don't want to be meh about work, I waned to be excited, about the ingredients, about the food, and I'm willing to take some risks to achieve it.
Other than that, not much to report, my life outside of work has been fairly domestic lately, buying things for the house, havng the odd beer at the pub. The most interesting thing to happen recently was a house party with the local ska band (yes they still have that here) and that was a lot of fun.
I think I'm going to find a new job. I don't want to be meh about work, I waned to be excited, about the ingredients, about the food, and I'm willing to take some risks to achieve it.
Other than that, not much to report, my life outside of work has been fairly domestic lately, buying things for the house, havng the odd beer at the pub. The most interesting thing to happen recently was a house party with the local ska band (yes they still have that here) and that was a lot of fun.
£1300 !!!!!
It feels so good to be paid, to have my own money for the first time in a year. Anyone who says money doesn't matter has never been without it, or has no pride either way they can go fuck themselves.
Speaking of fuck. The restaurant I'm working at is a high volume 300 covers a night kinda place, the trouble is fuckall happens untill 8, then all at once, they start to sit and Sous chef Helen calls out from the pass, "Assume the position!" and the next thing you know you are buried in checks, swearing at the polish food runner who keeps asking for that mixed salad when you are in the middle of starters for tables 901, 903 and 803, all of which have between 10 and 20 people seated and I'm having to do double work because my commis has a hangover and is doing one plate to my five. I scream at him and he looks at me like I've grown a second head. Meantime that scummy fuck from the hot side is sneering because I've fallen behind and he likes to make other peoples buisness his own, so I stop plating, go over to his section, look him in the eyes, "Do you ever shut the fuck up?!" I return to my station and finish my plates as the waiters snigger and point at him, scum of the earth they call him.
I have missed all of it. It's who I am.
It feels so good to be paid, to have my own money for the first time in a year. Anyone who says money doesn't matter has never been without it, or has no pride either way they can go fuck themselves.
Speaking of fuck. The restaurant I'm working at is a high volume 300 covers a night kinda place, the trouble is fuckall happens untill 8, then all at once, they start to sit and Sous chef Helen calls out from the pass, "Assume the position!" and the next thing you know you are buried in checks, swearing at the polish food runner who keeps asking for that mixed salad when you are in the middle of starters for tables 901, 903 and 803, all of which have between 10 and 20 people seated and I'm having to do double work because my commis has a hangover and is doing one plate to my five. I scream at him and he looks at me like I've grown a second head. Meantime that scummy fuck from the hot side is sneering because I've fallen behind and he likes to make other peoples buisness his own, so I stop plating, go over to his section, look him in the eyes, "Do you ever shut the fuck up?!" I return to my station and finish my plates as the waiters snigger and point at him, scum of the earth they call him.
I have missed all of it. It's who I am.
I need money money money...
I get paid next week, thank god!
I drank a lot of ate yesterday and ate at a bad French restaurant, not a bad way to spend a day off...
I get paid next week, thank god!
I drank a lot of ate yesterday and ate at a bad French restaurant, not a bad way to spend a day off...
Ugh knackered.
This used to be easier, a year of idless and l'ennui francais sure gives the work ethic a knock. I'm sure I'll get used to 5 nights a week, three of them 14 hour doubles again, but for now, I just need the rest. I'm staying at this restaurant through christmas (for the bonuses) then taking my two weeks paid vacation in january and I will use that time to find another job. This is the kind of place that could kill the industry for me. The chef is talented, but jaded, very jaded. He thinks there are no good cooks in the world (except for himself of course), and is upset when people don't know intuitively what he wants. "oh, sorry chef, did you not want the plate to look like that? What did you want it to look like?" ( has made a beetroot salad, a pretty one, with an orderly french style presentation)
"well I don't want something that looks as horrible as that"
He then walked back to the pass having given me no indication of what he wanted. The man thinks he's Gordan Ramsey, but he's not. Gordan Ramsey is a chef I respect, he understands that as head chef you must be policeman, mentor and teacher all at the same time. I have no time for a chef who has no time for me. I'm a good chef, a very good chef, but I'm not a mind reader.
I was given the night off tonight, because it's slow and my salary is higher than most, so I have three days to rest. So I can go back and kick his ass (metaphoricly). I want to become a cook he trusts and respects, so that when I leave I can do it dramaticly and maybe kick him out of his complacency.
The food really isn't good enough to put up with this shit.
Thank god for kombulai, my little commis chef from laos. He keeps me endlessly entertained, "when I live in laos, I used to go always to thailand after midnight for massage with happy ending, you know happy ending?"
or
"this one time I put thermometer inside this woman pussy, 43 degrees!"
or
"Hey dickhead, you bum boy?"
Characters like him are one of the reasons that I love this industry so.
I feel like this today:
This used to be easier, a year of idless and l'ennui francais sure gives the work ethic a knock. I'm sure I'll get used to 5 nights a week, three of them 14 hour doubles again, but for now, I just need the rest. I'm staying at this restaurant through christmas (for the bonuses) then taking my two weeks paid vacation in january and I will use that time to find another job. This is the kind of place that could kill the industry for me. The chef is talented, but jaded, very jaded. He thinks there are no good cooks in the world (except for himself of course), and is upset when people don't know intuitively what he wants. "oh, sorry chef, did you not want the plate to look like that? What did you want it to look like?" ( has made a beetroot salad, a pretty one, with an orderly french style presentation)
"well I don't want something that looks as horrible as that"
He then walked back to the pass having given me no indication of what he wanted. The man thinks he's Gordan Ramsey, but he's not. Gordan Ramsey is a chef I respect, he understands that as head chef you must be policeman, mentor and teacher all at the same time. I have no time for a chef who has no time for me. I'm a good chef, a very good chef, but I'm not a mind reader.
I was given the night off tonight, because it's slow and my salary is higher than most, so I have three days to rest. So I can go back and kick his ass (metaphoricly). I want to become a cook he trusts and respects, so that when I leave I can do it dramaticly and maybe kick him out of his complacency.
The food really isn't good enough to put up with this shit.
Thank god for kombulai, my little commis chef from laos. He keeps me endlessly entertained, "when I live in laos, I used to go always to thailand after midnight for massage with happy ending, you know happy ending?"
or
"this one time I put thermometer inside this woman pussy, 43 degrees!"
or
"Hey dickhead, you bum boy?"
Characters like him are one of the reasons that I love this industry so.
I feel like this today:
He never fails to suprise me, even five years after his death.
Last night I bought a pastel of a naked lady for a pint and some cpnversation...
There are things about this place that please me, and most of them are in the neighborhood called Mosley, it's full of artists, musicians and weirdos (some of them with dreadlocks and pitt bulls, just like home, the sort you love to hate).
It's going to be an interesting year, I can tell....
Goodness have I become borning?
Nah. Probably just nesting.
Work is good, not great, good. The food is nothing to be ashamed of, but the batches are too big and the tendancy is to prep 3 days in advance. Which is fine, except that it's summer and I would like to see muc h more fresh produce. The money is right, and I don't want to fuck off my first job in the UK. I'll focus on the positive, like the jolly pirate crew (one of the most debauched I've seen) and just enjoy the life involved in kitchen work.
I haven't been out much, not a lot of money, you see -- also I'm enjoying making home mine again, getting my sleeping back on track and dealing with the fact that I'm tired all the time because I haven't worked in awhile. Give it a week or so...
I did have a crazy weekend last weekend. Verdict: yes I can live here. I might even enjoy it.
Nah. Probably just nesting.
Work is good, not great, good. The food is nothing to be ashamed of, but the batches are too big and the tendancy is to prep 3 days in advance. Which is fine, except that it's summer and I would like to see muc h more fresh produce. The money is right, and I don't want to fuck off my first job in the UK. I'll focus on the positive, like the jolly pirate crew (one of the most debauched I've seen) and just enjoy the life involved in kitchen work.
I haven't been out much, not a lot of money, you see -- also I'm enjoying making home mine again, getting my sleeping back on track and dealing with the fact that I'm tired all the time because I haven't worked in awhile. Give it a week or so...
I did have a crazy weekend last weekend. Verdict: yes I can live here. I might even enjoy it.
Still in Cali. The British Consulate is behind and I am stuck here for another week, without my Symbidium.
There is still a small chance I may not get the visa, in which case I have already said goodbye to her for 6 months...
Gotta keep busy...
any of y'all in the Bay Area? Want to entertain me?
There is still a small chance I may not get the visa, in which case I have already said goodbye to her for 6 months...
Gotta keep busy...
any of y'all in the Bay Area? Want to entertain me?
OCTOBER 2008