03/24/20
To this day , I think that term sounds funny. I knew very little about the Brigade System and how the French did things I just knew that was a funny name for a grill cook. Hell, I only knew what a spud chef was from watching television and reading through Kitchen Confidential. After working through the weekend and Monday I got the day off after 6 days in a row. I slept in until about 10 and got out of bed shortly thereafter. As I went into the bathroom I glanced at myself in the mirror. I must’ve had 10 different burns on my arms and hands. I also had a nice cut from chopping a block of butter. Of all things I could’ve cut myself on, why butter? I looked like I had just been in a firefight. To top it all off, my feet were blistered and cracked and had a permanent smoky smell from a combination of my non-slip shoes and grease. I wondered to myself if I’d look like that forever. I guess it was just part of the business.
After I got myself cleaned up, I wobbled to the kitchen to make myself something to eat when my phone rang. I scurried back to the bathroom where I had left my phone to see that it was Chef calling me. I answered and he said “Can you be here in 45 mins?” I couldn’t respond before he said “Great, see you at noon kid” and hung up. I just stared at my blank phone screen for 2 minutes in complete silence before it registered that I needed get dressed and head to the restaurant. I began to take off my clothes and put on my work uniform, cursing the whole time thinking to myself about how bad I wanted that day off. Truth is, I had nothing to do. Day 7 in a row, here we come!
I got there right before the clock struck 11:59. I walked into the restaurant still kind of ticked about being there in the first place. Fuck, my feet hurt! As I entered the kitchen the saucier informed me that we had 250 on the books already and were expecting more. Tuesdays we’re usually the slowest day of the week I thought? Shortly there after Chef told me to grab an apron and come with him. As I walked back to the walk-in cooler I noticed a older gentleman in my old spot peeling potatoes like it was nobodies business. Chef informed that was Javier and this was his second job, so he was just doing my old job part time so he could send his daughter to college. I almost blurted “Sucks for him” but caught myself. In the walk-in he showed me these giant slabs of meat just hanging from hooks. They were all covered in herbs and spices. He explained they were prime ribs to be roasted at 225 for 8 hrs starting now. He told me to lay down parchment paper and take them one by one to the oven and then come and find him and he disappeared. Shit! I thought to myself as I began to lower one of the slabs of meat so I could unhook it. I’d only had prime rib once and I remember my little brother bitching the whole time about how pink it was. Either way it smelled delicious!
As I began to lower the last rib roast down Chef appeared out of nowhere. He said “thanks for coming in, I was covering your shift but I have been requested to meet and greet this large party tonight”. I signed and then thought to myself, “he wouldn’t be calling me if I wasn’t doing a good job”, picked my head up, and got back to work just like it was any other day.
A Chef's Journey 