This morning I got up early to dot the I’s and cross the t’s on the research I was doing for Executive Chef. Moreover I was only too eager to help the love of my life get the car to the mechanic so that we could get Delia (that is the cars name) running at optimal levels.
I have been reading Thomas McNamee’s brilliant “Alice Waters and Chez Panisse” religiously since buying it when I have had time (but more on this next post) and found myself in awe on the streetcar. I was in great spirits and feeling generally as I do every morning. Grateful to be alive. To know and cherish love. To have a career path that provides meaning, joy and hope to my life. As such I walked into work with a smile on my face and readied to go about my day. But not before quickly finishing the chapter I was reading and having a coffee and a cigarette.
As I walked back in Head Chef was there and was ready to start assigning jobs for the day. I noticed up on the board that he asked me to deal with the jus and as such started dealing with it before being told directly. As I started working on straining the demi Head Chef asked D, L and I who did the tea smoked pacific salmon the night before to which I quickly answered that I did. Without missing a beat he looked back at the white board and said; “Back to the remi.”
Of course I had answered with all the exuberance of a newbie. Thinking of course that perhaps I had done something right. I could not have been further from right if I had gone right, made another right and found myself on right street. I WAS WRONG and soon I was going to find out HOW wrong.
As I got the jus on and started to prep the things that I saw on my list Head Chef casually threw a vac packed bag with the two pieces of Salmon that I had smoked in it. Immediately I grabbed a knife and opened it knowing that obviously there was something horribly wrong with it. He asked as I sucked back a bite to which I responded that it was over smoked. He looked in that way that only people expecting more can, hanging on waiting for more and then helping to elicit the response that he wanted. It was over peppered, over cooked and over smoked AND COMPLETELY UNPALATABLE. I concurred sheepishly. Having never been shown how to properly make the dish I asked what I could do that would be better to do in the future. He looked right at me and said; “Well you won’t be cooking Salmon again.” It took everything I had not to cry. Not only did I feel his disappointment but my own and the sting really sucked.
I brooded. And when I say brooded I don’t think that I spoke very much to anyone all day. I was stung. My pride was hurt. But what’s more I felt as if I had not only let him down but myself. Did I mention that it stung… A LOT!
As I went about my duties as assigned all I could think about is what I could have done differently. Asked how to properly do it. Asked for some kind of direction. Anything that I could have done differently I considered as I peeled 50 pounds of potatoes for a dauphinoise. Did I mention it stung?
Later in the day there was an issue with the spring rolls that had been cooked. This has been an ongoing issue as they have been less than stellar quality. Of course, due to who I am and my experience I asked if they were being cooked at 400 f in the fryer. When I went over to ask the person testing what temperature the fryer was at I noticed that it was at 350 f. I then proceeded to turn it up not knowing that Head Chef himself had set the temperature.
I followed one of my colleagues to his station and was having a conversation when Head Chef came over and proceeded to lash me down saying; “You are not a Chef, don’t touch the temperature when you know that I have set it. Now get out of here before…”
Pride swallowed. Ego non existent I walked away with my tail between my legs like an abused puppy. Unintentionally I had incurred the wrath of Chef. I felt awful, as if I had just been kicked in the nuts and then thrown from a moving car.
I finished up what I was doing and asked if there was anything else. Head Chef looked at me and said not much. So I packed up my things and left. Which though feeling like a bundle of smoking turd was all right because I got to catch you my readers up.
That said I am reminded of a great quote from Alfred Adler; “What do you first do when you learn to swim? You make mistakes, do you not? And what happens? You make other mistakes, and when you have made all the mistakes you possibly can without drowning - and some of them many times over - what do you find? That you can swim? Well - life is just the same as learning to swim! Do not be afraid of making mistakes, for there is no other way of learning how to live!”
Breaststroke here I come.
Are you dreaming big and inspired?
A la prochaine
SDM
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