ZEN!!! Scriptures (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/syndicated.gif){kind=small} dj_zen) wrote,@ 2005-06-13 04:46:00 |
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Linens And Things
Listening: Yes, I'm jumping like...
Linens And Things
Listening: Yes, I'm jumping like a jumping jack. Dancing, screaming, itching, squealing, fevered, feeling hot hot hot!!!
Two landmark things happened this weekend at the restaurant, one good, one bad, or rather one good, one understanable. I'll start with the good one.
When I went into work on Saturday afternoon, I put on a pair of random chef's pants that were roughly my size, tightened it with a belt, slipped my zippo into my pocket and tied my bandana around my forehead. I look over at the rack of chef's coats and begin looking at the tags. They're listed with a name and a size. In the past, I had been using these coats labeled "Rita" who was about my size and left about a year or so ago. When I couldn't find a "Rita," I ended up using one of Tania's, who happens to be the pastry chef. So I'm checking through the rack. "Mark, Large" "Jarred, Large" "Jair, X-Large" "Jason, Medium" "Jose, Medium" "ZEN, Medium."
"Wait, what was that?" I asked myself.
I looked again. Sure enough, it said, "ZEN, Medium." I was completely surprised. Justin didn't even have chef's coats with his name on the tag. All of a sudden there were linens on the rack that were specifically for me. How cool! I truly believe that this is another milestone in my career. It is another step on my journey. I now have my own linens. And, although they don't have the fancy knot buttons on them, they do have a breast pocket for my sidetowel and a thermometer/pencil pocket on the sleeve, so I don't have to run around looking for random pens.
Onto the bad/understandable thing. This weekend was insanely hot in the kitchen. I thought that it was getting warm last weekend, but I was wrong. It was easily 110 degrees on the line both today and yesterday night. Yesterday, I was fine. I was scorchingly hot, but I was fine. When Chef Bob told either Jose or myself to go home, I had the choice to go home and I took it. I had been working in the 100 degree kitchen since two in the afternoon and I left around nine or so. Jose got there at four and he closed down, as it really should be. It happened again today. Mark cut one of us at about eight, so I jumped at the chance to have an early night. I think the big difference between today and yesterday was that I had been out in the sun from about noon until two thirty when I got into work. I think that those extra couple of hours out in the sun and humidity did me in. I was tired and slow-moving all day. Luckily, I got most of my prep work done. There were a couple of things that I didn't do, but were non-crucial backup items. But I was dying.
To give you an idea of the condition I was in all day today, I'll tell you what was happening with my body. I was wearing long pants made out of a synthetic material that is flame resistant, short socks, clogs, a wife-beater, and a long sleeved polyester chef's coat. I could feel the sweat in my pants roll down my legs soaking my socks. I could feel the sweat from the back of my head roll down my neck into the collar of my chef's coat and down my back into my wife-beater. I couldn't drink water fast enough. I drank it by the pitcherful. Five feet away from me, the grill was screaming hot. About ten minutes after it's loaded or re-loaded, you see translucent orange flames lick out from between the grill gratings, which then calm into white hot embers. For each Cuban sandwich, I have to take it out of the oven, close the sandwich up, brush with butter and then sear on the grill. Five feet is close enough for me to feel the heat of the grill. Five inches is what I need to press the sandwich on the grill. Not pleasant.
Jair, who rocked the grill tonight, said he lost about ten pounds since the heat started kicking up. Jair isn't a little guy, but you can really tell that he has slimmed down.
I felt a little bit guilty about skinning out early, because I usually stay to the bitter end. Jose knows this. But I also don't feel bad because one of us had to go home and, well, I had been there longer so I should get to go home. It was a weird conflict in my mind.
Finally, in other news, I went down to the dragon boat races today. As it turns out, I should have gone down to the races yesterday. There was a girl that I had a crush on for my first two years of college. She went to MIT and lived in the same dorm as my brother. We were reasonably good friends, I think. We hung out in a group quite often, but I guess she never really made a huge effort to e-mail or call or what-not. We spent a lot of time talking here and there, because we were usually the last ones to go to sleep. Anyways, I had a crush on her that went nowhere, and eventually lost touch with her. I think it has been at least seven or eight years since I have talked to her or interacted with her in any capacity. I don't know her phone number, nor where she lives.
When I went down to the races today, I heard that she called the finishes for the races on the prior day. I searched high and low for the few hours that I was there today trying to find her, but no one had seen her. She was supposedly a maybe to work the races today. I'm sad that I didn't get to see her though. I would have really liked to see what she's done with herself. What was she up to? Where's she living? Is she finally dating? (She didn't date anyone at all throughout college.)
I did, however, get to catch up with a number of my other dragon boat friends that I hadn't seen in quite some time. I caught up on some stuff that I had missed out on and even got asked to race, since some friends were short a drummer. Unfortunately, I couldn't because they were racing at half past two and that was what time I had to be at work.
Anyways, that was my weekend. It was good, bad, and strange all rolled into one. But now it is a quarter to one in the morning, so I'm going to go to sleep. I guess I'll get about an hour more than usual. I got an interesting week ahead of me, I think. We'll see what turns up.
Linens And Things
Listening: Yes, I'm jumping like a jumping jack. Dancing, screaming, itching, squealing, fevered, feeling hot hot hot!!!
Two landmark things happened this weekend at the restaurant, one good, one bad, or rather one good, one understanable. I'll start with the good one.
When I went into work on Saturday afternoon, I put on a pair of random chef's pants that were roughly my size, tightened it with a belt, slipped my zippo into my pocket and tied my bandana around my forehead. I look over at the rack of chef's coats and begin looking at the tags. They're listed with a name and a size. In the past, I had been using these coats labeled "Rita" who was about my size and left about a year or so ago. When I couldn't find a "Rita," I ended up using one of Tania's, who happens to be the pastry chef. So I'm checking through the rack. "Mark, Large" "Jarred, Large" "Jair, X-Large" "Jason, Medium" "Jose, Medium" "ZEN, Medium."
"Wait, what was that?" I asked myself.
I looked again. Sure enough, it said, "ZEN, Medium." I was completely surprised. Justin didn't even have chef's coats with his name on the tag. All of a sudden there were linens on the rack that were specifically for me. How cool! I truly believe that this is another milestone in my career. It is another step on my journey. I now have my own linens. And, although they don't have the fancy knot buttons on them, they do have a breast pocket for my sidetowel and a thermometer/pencil pocket on the sleeve, so I don't have to run around looking for random pens.
Onto the bad/understandable thing. This weekend was insanely hot in the kitchen. I thought that it was getting warm last weekend, but I was wrong. It was easily 110 degrees on the line both today and yesterday night. Yesterday, I was fine. I was scorchingly hot, but I was fine. When Chef Bob told either Jose or myself to go home, I had the choice to go home and I took it. I had been working in the 100 degree kitchen since two in the afternoon and I left around nine or so. Jose got there at four and he closed down, as it really should be. It happened again today. Mark cut one of us at about eight, so I jumped at the chance to have an early night. I think the big difference between today and yesterday was that I had been out in the sun from about noon until two thirty when I got into work. I think that those extra couple of hours out in the sun and humidity did me in. I was tired and slow-moving all day. Luckily, I got most of my prep work done. There were a couple of things that I didn't do, but were non-crucial backup items. But I was dying.
To give you an idea of the condition I was in all day today, I'll tell you what was happening with my body. I was wearing long pants made out of a synthetic material that is flame resistant, short socks, clogs, a wife-beater, and a long sleeved polyester chef's coat. I could feel the sweat in my pants roll down my legs soaking my socks. I could feel the sweat from the back of my head roll down my neck into the collar of my chef's coat and down my back into my wife-beater. I couldn't drink water fast enough. I drank it by the pitcherful. Five feet away from me, the grill was screaming hot. About ten minutes after it's loaded or re-loaded, you see translucent orange flames lick out from between the grill gratings, which then calm into white hot embers. For each Cuban sandwich, I have to take it out of the oven, close the sandwich up, brush with butter and then sear on the grill. Five feet is close enough for me to feel the heat of the grill. Five inches is what I need to press the sandwich on the grill. Not pleasant.
Jair, who rocked the grill tonight, said he lost about ten pounds since the heat started kicking up. Jair isn't a little guy, but you can really tell that he has slimmed down.
I felt a little bit guilty about skinning out early, because I usually stay to the bitter end. Jose knows this. But I also don't feel bad because one of us had to go home and, well, I had been there longer so I should get to go home. It was a weird conflict in my mind.
Finally, in other news, I went down to the dragon boat races today. As it turns out, I should have gone down to the races yesterday. There was a girl that I had a crush on for my first two years of college. She went to MIT and lived in the same dorm as my brother. We were reasonably good friends, I think. We hung out in a group quite often, but I guess she never really made a huge effort to e-mail or call or what-not. We spent a lot of time talking here and there, because we were usually the last ones to go to sleep. Anyways, I had a crush on her that went nowhere, and eventually lost touch with her. I think it has been at least seven or eight years since I have talked to her or interacted with her in any capacity. I don't know her phone number, nor where she lives.
When I went down to the races today, I heard that she called the finishes for the races on the prior day. I searched high and low for the few hours that I was there today trying to find her, but no one had seen her. She was supposedly a maybe to work the races today. I'm sad that I didn't get to see her though. I would have really liked to see what she's done with herself. What was she up to? Where's she living? Is she finally dating? (She didn't date anyone at all throughout college.)
I did, however, get to catch up with a number of my other dragon boat friends that I hadn't seen in quite some time. I caught up on some stuff that I had missed out on and even got asked to race, since some friends were short a drummer. Unfortunately, I couldn't because they were racing at half past two and that was what time I had to be at work.
Anyways, that was my weekend. It was good, bad, and strange all rolled into one. But now it is a quarter to one in the morning, so I'm going to go to sleep. I guess I'll get about an hour more than usual. I got an interesting week ahead of me, I think. We'll see what turns up.
