there are a couple boys in the kitchen at work who started a little after i did, and have never had the chance to learn any of the prep for the restaurant--they just deal with the finished product. basically, that's because they were hired to replace people, and it was the middle of summer, and we needed them RIGHT NOW. it's not their fault that they didn't have the time to chop 6 quarts of jalapenos for the week, and then--hands burning--bite their lips as the lemon juice from 2 cases of lemons forces itself into the cracks in their hands where the capsaicin from the jalapenos now lives.
i'm not at all bitter. i know that they both have worked in restaurants before, and know exactly how to slice radishes or make lemonade according to recipe. and even if they didn't, they're boys, and boys seem to have less of a hard time being nervous about doing something new. i just feel grateful that i got my first couple of months at the restaurant dedicated to prep--now that i'm working different positions in the kitchen, i know exactly where everything i'm working with came from. and, when there's a lull, i know which prep i can grab, bring to my station, and zone out with. guilty as charged, i go for the easy prep.
M. (kitchen manager), said to me yesterday, "M?? you are deeeeep in it. where the hell are you??" apparently he had been standing next to me, and had asked me the same question three times, and i had shown no response. reason? i was peeling garlic--one of my faaavorite (no joke) things to do. i like that it's like peeling wallpaper--there's a system to it, and when the skin comes off in one big piece with no damage to the clove, it's a good day. it's also the best for pondering. have anything to work over in your head? grab some garlic. what the hell am i making for dinner tonight? get the garlic. why does this one cook seem to hate me? garlic.
because we were lullin it for a good two hours after the lunch rush yesterday, i spent the whole time in my head, attempting to peel eight quarts of garlic (i only made it to one), thinking about what fish i was going to buy at coastal to cook with a cash tip i got from a yuge[huge] take out order. i of course didn't spend the whole time thinking about just that, but that's about all i remember. as soon as the prep is put away, everything is settled. if there were problems, i now have a plan of action. if i need groceries, i have a Seward list memorized to the tune of "gangsta's paradise." (actually, that was just a joke but it sounds like something i should start doing, especially to that song!)
the boys let me do that easy prep, too, because they're all more interested in wielding their sharpsharp knives and chopping vegetables too small. i'm not saying that i don't do that stuff too, but, like yesterday, if all the prep for the evening shift is basically done, then garlic it is.
one thing that's driving me nuts is waiting for goddamn springtime. it happens every year--at about this point, even those who claim to LOVE winter for its winter sports and cold weather are in the corner, rocking themselves and crying when it's time to put their parkas on, AGAIN. it gets worse when we get a taste of the warm weather, like a saturday that gets up to 37 degrees, and we're all outside, walking around, light coats on, and next thing you know it's snowing 5 inches. f. (related sidenote: i just asked a still-sleeping D what he'll make me for breakfast this morning. his croaked response? "snow." nooooo!)
i can't help but start cooking spring food. my system is tired of me pounding it with butter and cream and starch. no more root vegetables, either. root vegetables, in the fall, remind me of wise, stately gentlemen. now, when i'm ready for spring, they're more like the noisy, punky dressed preteens whose parents think they're old enough to be dropped off at the library in swarms all day. i've gotta get away from them.
what's one of your favorite ever spring foods? that is a question that soo many people have never asked me. and they never will. because likely, no one cares. well, SHUT UP.
they happen to be fava beans--the greenest bean, i think. big, grassy, and if you cook them just right, melty-tender. they also call for the most prep to get to the cooking stage, and unless you buy a lot, there's little yield. they're quite a punishing vegetable (actually, legume, but you wouldn't catch me ever calling them that--what an unnatural name, legume).
now is the time to go to Holy Land grocery every saturday and buy up a few pounds of fava beans. beyond the flavor, one of the reasons i buy them a lot is to remind me that spring does exist, and because they're reminiscent of the slow, consistent prep i'm so fond of at work. first stage: remove beans from pods. second stage: remove skins from each individual bean. it takes a lot longer than you'd guess. if you get that far, you just might experience the garlic-peeling nirvana that i do with a plate full o' peel favas.
No comments:
Post a Comment