What do you mean Chef is not a chef?

 Well I opened up yesterday and held my own on my own and apparently did very well. I only seem to screw up when the site manager is there. She had a chat to me this morning telling me how she had recieved good reports about me. We then moved onto the topic of Chef. Chef, despite having worked in many kitchens for many years and being our head chef has never finished his apprenticeship. Technically Chef is not a chef (although because cheffing is compentancy based with the ammount of work he’s done it would be a simple thing for him to become qualified)!

Listening to: Michael Gray “The Weekend”

 

I don’t want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart…

 Well I didn’t set the world on fire, but then again I didn’t give anyone food poisioning either. My first day went OK, not great, not dismal. I even had a period where I was without the aid of the head chef. It didn’t go great, I ran out of specials and didn’t know where they were kept. As I predicted speed was one of the major factors that I need to make a conscious effort to increase. I have next week at work with my safety net and then I’m on my own, spooky, eh?

I got home to discover that my QTAC results had returned, I scored 98% in both exam criterions and found myself in the top percentile of the state. I guess this means I’m going to uni, it’s just a matter of which course. I’ll find out THAT come thefirst round of offers somewhere between Christmas and New Years.

I have some wankery art gallery opening to go to tonight. I wouldn’t bother going but for the fact that one of my friends is showing his photography. Well, that and the free food!

Listening to: “Put your hands up for Detroit,” by Fedde Le Grand

 

Fear

I start my new job as hot cook in 8 1/2 hours and I’m as anxious as all hell. You would think that because I know half the staff that it would be a good thing, but it’s not. I don’t fear being unable to get along well with the rest of the staff, I fear failure. The knowledge of fact that if I fail then I fail in front of people who know me isn’t exactly helping at this point in my slightly hysterical preperation. Failure is not an option, it’s success or death. I have identified four major areas in which I must be extra careful.

Firstly, as I do not eat fish (although I do eat other seafood) I have a limited idea of what fish is supposed to be like: beware the fish.

Secondly, people tend to be very critical about their steaks, I’m relatively confident having dealt extensively with scotch fillets before, but I cannot be overconfident: beware the steak.

Thirdly, when patrons are waiting it seems like they have waited three times longer than they actually have, so a five minute wait seems like a quarter hour to them: pick up the speed.

Fourthly, and somewhat related to my third point, I must look ahead at incomming dockets so I can ensure that I have all my mise en plus things on hand (yes, I do know how redundant that is): plan ahead.

Other than that, I just hope I can understand the head chef. I know that last time we worked together I had difficulty understanding his accent (he’s a new Australian). I spoke to him just after he had returned from Paris, and while I did manage to understand him, his accent looks like it’s there to stay.

Ohh, and don’t stick your hand in the deep fryer…

 

1, 2, 3…

Testing, testing, this is very testing…

Yes, I have indeed been convinced to open up my own blog rather than bore others needlessly. I feel like I have accomplished something by muddling my way around to get this thing up and running (I hope) with the aid of my friend Colin. I would link to his exciting page, but alas I’m out of blu-tack and I am not quite so sure as to how I would make a link. That being said I am still patting myself on the back for adding this to my list of household chores. It makes me feel rather like Martha Stewart, but, ya know, without the hard jail time, the prision sex, that whole making crystal meth in the bathtub thing and the billions of American dollars, as well as legions of adoring fans and, well, I’m sure you get the idea…
Well, I guess I should probably start by telling you about my day: After I brokered a lasting peace deal in the middle east and eliminated world hunger I went and slaved myself for the mimimum wage for a few hours at work. Luke’s mother was visiting for Luke’s birthday, happy birthday Luke; I quit! I feel bad for Luke, but if I stay much longer I fear that I will physically hurt Jasper.

The tale of the mystery soup:

Cleaning out the secondary fridge today we found a 50L pot of mystery soup. No one knows how long it has been in there, nor what it consists of, or even what purpose it was created for. It was frozen, which is probably what saved it from acquiring an aluminium taste (ergh) so I defrosted it in order to ascetain the quality of it. Curiously enough when I asked Jasper about it he pretended to have no idea, which is odd as he was the one who made it.

On the new job:

By this time next week I will have finished my first day at the new job where I will be a hot cook (yes, you can all hold your applause and giggles until the end of the paragraph). While I have had some experience in this type of job I always find myself rather anxiety-racked every time I am about to start something new. Furthermore I wonder how exactly I am going to survive, for while I will recieve a higher rate of pay I will be doing far less hours. I have three choices: a) skimp and scrape; b) get a second job (I have an in (no, not THAT kind of in! Well, actually, erm, nevermind!) with a guy at another cafe); c) go back to the restaurant and admit defeat. I tend not to think of ‘become unemployed and starve to death’ as an option.

<A href="http://www.therapyinthemaking.co.uk">Colin Brooks</A>