2 years and counting

There is a transient nature to what I do. Rarely does anyone stay in one place for longer than a year. It seems that I've spent more time looking for steady work than steadily working. I've now been at Alba for two years. This is the longest I've been at a restaurant. I still have the fear. The fear of instability. The fear of not knowing if the next check is going to be enough, if there is even going to be a next check. With the recent success, the steady growing success, these fears are subsiding. Whats replacing them is confidence in my abilities. Finally I've been at one place long enough to actually hone skills. I can focus on improving in stead of wasting energy adapting and tryin to get comfortable in a kitchen. I can actually become a better cook. I now make pasta. I make pasta well. In a year, I will make pasta very well. I have been repeating things. And with this repetition comes competance. I have been at the cafe for a year and a half now. While the food isn't challenging it is another venue that requires me to maximize time, cook quickly, and cook clean. The food is worth respecting; therefore my work must be respectful. I am fast. I can adjust on the fly and I can flip the switch when needed. All I really needed was a place to stay and believe in. Oh, and to screw my head on straight. Timing is vital. Three or four years ago I wouldn't have been in the right place to take advantage of these opportunities. I would've been fine, but I wouldn't have excelled. I needed to be broken. To be forced to make the decision between the life I was leading and the professional goals that I wanted to attain. So many restaurants. So many cuisines. I wanted to believe in them all. Busted dreams, but they were other peoples dreams. Mine are still alive. My dreams are cockroaches. I couldn't kill them if I wanted to.

Long month

It seems as if I post this more than anything else, but 'it's been a damn long month'. Two days off in October. Left little time and even less energy to post. I went to New York in the beginning of September. I ate good food. Saw good music. hung out with good people. It's been a whirlwind of work since getting back. Staffing problems at the Cafe and increased business at Alba has made for all work no play. Regardless I wouldn't be anywhere else. I think I'm approaching the point in the craft of cooking (as in the pursuit of any craft) in which everything I do becomes referential. In that I have developed and honed basic techniques, while learning specific cuisines. When I decide I want to make something it is not some idea I'm pulling from the aether it is derived from the food and techniques I've used in the past. What I make is therefore more grounded. And being grounded there is a greater chance for success. I am getting better at having an idea of what I want to make, making it, and having the end product be very close to the original idea. The guessing game is giving way to craft.

Homeland Security

So you go to the local safeway. For the sake of convenience you grab some pre-cleaned, bagged veggies. Easy resealable pouches, healthy fresh vegetables, couldn't be easier. Bullshit. Agri-business and large scale processing has put our national security in Jeopardy. It is in the best interest of homeland security to decentralize food production and create a series of regional food sourcing centers that can act independently in case of terrorist, and or accidental contamination. From here on out I will refer to these regional food production facilities as Foodstuff Annex for Regional and Metropolitan Support, or F.A.R.M.S. These F.A.R.M.S. will produce food for population centers within quick trucking distance. They can produce a variety of foodstuffs that are indigineous and or specific to the climate of the area providing a hearty, nutritious and diversified yield. Crops that are naturally resistant to pests and disease of the given regions. This decentralization also has great strategic import. It is almost impossible for food flow to be disrupted by contamination when there are so many independent F.A.R.M.S. operating.

product

So I've started to cover the unsavory, unglamorous, stressful aspects of the job. It's easy to do since most of these posts come right after work. I'm usually winding down reglecting on the night. Successes and failures as well as just the desire to wrap it up and go home. To relax and get ready for the next day. If I could post periodically throughtout the day I'm sure the content would be quite different. But the predominant thing would be the product. A joy that comes directly from the raw ingredients, how they smell, how they look, taste, respond to heat, etc. Taking that near perfect item and preparing, framing it and serving it is the true thrill. Like most career changers I got into this because of the romantic notions of food and the craft of cooking itself. Of course the adrenaline and process of line cooking, cooking at speed, has become it's own addiction. The product is still the overwhelming motivater. Seeing the seasons change, the product change, is thrilling.

working angry

You know, when it's 7:30 on a Friday I'm pissed. I've been on my feet for seven or eight hours by that point, and there's three or four more to go. I'm pissed. I'm not itchin' for a fight. I don't even really dislike anyone. I'm just pissed off, and every order that comes in pisses me off more. Not because I hate cooking or I hate the food I'm making (if either where the case I'd be doing something else). Perhaps it is a purely male, testosterone laden perspective, but it's like a competition. The Customers, the tickets, myself more specifically, are my opponents and in order for me to win I have to put out everything perfectly and timely. Now most of the time it's not like I'm seething with anger and cursing the old couple on table 10. I do cook with joy. But when the tickets start coming, you dig in, cook your ass off and fight to stay on top of everything. You focus, stay under control, and let the adrenaline flow. Staying in control is the key to everything. Maintain focus, maintain timing, maintain quality. It is at the most stressful times that the anger comes out. It is a competitive anger not a directed anger. It is an internal anger. One that will kick my own ass if I let down and don't do something right. Sure I'll get pissed if some dumbass comes in looking for ranch dressing, tartar sauce and a well done steak, but that's more just annoyance. Intensity and anger can be inseperable. People talk about professional athletes playing with passion, playing with fire. It looks like there pissed to me. We admire them. We admire their competitiveness. There is no difference. When one pushes oneself to perform at a high level that focus and intesnity easily manifests as anger. Now don't get me wrong there are those misguided dicks online that are just poorly adjusted assholes pissed at the world, unable to seperate their own self loathing from their hatred of humanity. But then again we get all sorts in the kitchen. Regardless everyone in a kitchen gets pissed. The get angry, they get focused and most of the time they do there job.

Line Games

Recently, thanks to Anthony Bourdain and others, there has been an idealization of what happens on the line. The shit talk, the towel snapping, things happening to food that customers don't want to know about, drugs, drinking, screwing, all of these things have happened, will happpen, and are happening in kitchens. I don't go for most of that. I work sober, don't shit where I eat, don't chase FOH tail, try not to talk shit, but what I do go for is a little game I like to call 'In your head'. It's easy, it's all about getting a shitty song stuck in someone elses head without it getting stuck in yours. This may sound childish, and simple, but I don't come down to where you work and slap the dick out of your mouth. If you've been on the line for say six hours, are mentally frayed and physically spent simple pursuits elevate to heroic proportions. Just on little phrase can send your coworker into an internal turmoil. "Turn around...bright eyes". That 's the most direct route. Just sing the hook to some really bad tune and hope it catches. Just like "Skyrockets in flight". THe more round about method, and here is where I really love the freedom, is change the lyrics and start singing the new rendition. If you can attach a menu item even better. 'Ropa, Ropa Vieja (to the tune of CopaCabana)'. My favorite is the chorus to that crappy Cranberries tune 'Zombie'. It's mindless, repetetive, insipid, and easily singable, exactly what you want to get caught in someone elses head. If you don't work in a kitchen, try it anyway. Go up to a coworker in the office and start singing "Going to lunch, gonna grab a bite , gonna eat my sandwhich and drink my sprite...Oh oh oh gonna drink a sprite(afternoon delight).

back again

Just wrapped up a hectic month. Two independent catering gigs and a move left me a little drowsy, a little ragged, a little spun. Unfortunately I dig the adrenaline. After putting in 80 hours in the kitchen each of the last two weeks, I feel like I'm slacking by just working one job. It's not unusual for one to put in so many hours in this business. If you're an owner or on salary it's expected. What it does to me is put question in the old noggin'. "Am I doing enough?" I could work more, learn more, get there faster. Of course this is ridiculous, and due to my inherent love of sloth, I am in no threat of picking up a third job. What it does show is what I can do when I need to, when I need to take advantage of opportunities. I can stretch myself thin occasionally and pull it off, if for a good reason.

Schedule

Should be wrapping up a crazy month in the next week. 2 catering jobs in addition to the two restaurant jobs. Pretty hectic, but worth it. While the catering thing can be a hassle it allows me to get back to menu planning. It's a good excercise. Creating a balanced, executable menu, that is reasonable for the customer and fitting for the occasion. It's good to spread the proverbial wings and make my own food. See what I would do with the seasonal ingredients. I couldn't do the catering thing for a living though. I like the planning aspect, but I hate the waiting. You know what you need to do, but can only prepare the food within a day or two of the event. You know you're going to be busy but there is very little you can do to ease that.

Gonna find my baby
Gonna hold her tight
Gonna grab some Afternoon Delight
My motto's always been when it's right it's right
Why wait until the middle of a cold dark night

When everything's a little clearer in the light of day
And we know the night is always gonna be here anyway

Think of you is working up an appetite
Looking forward to a little Afternoon Delight
Rubbing sticks and stones together make the sparks ignite
And the thought of rubbing you is getting so exciting
Skyrockets in flight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight

Started out this morning feeling so polite
I always thought a fish could not be caught who didn't bite
But you got some bait a'waitin and I think I might
Like nibbling a little Afternoon Delight

Skyrockets in flight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight

Be waiting for me baby when I come around
We can make a lot of luvin' fore the sun go down

Think of you is working up an appetite
Looking forward to a little Afternoon Delight
Rubbing sticks and stones together makes the sparks ignite
And the thought of rubbing you is getting so exciting
Skyrockets in flight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight
Afternoon Delight

Intro: / Em C Em C /

See the curtains hanging in the window
In the evening on a Friday night
A little light a-shining through the window
Lets me know every thing's all right

/ Em G / D A E C / :

{Refrain}
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind

/ Am - Bm - / C - G - / :

See the paper laying on the sidewalk
A little music from the house next door
So I walk on up to the door step
Through the screen and across the floor

{Refrain}

Sweet days of summer, the jasmine's in bloom
July is dressed up and playing her tune
When I come home from a hard day's work
And you're waiting there, not a care in the world

/ Em C Em C / / Am - Bm - / /

See the smile a waiting in the kitchen
Food cooking and the plates for two
Feel the arms that reach out to hold me
In the evening when the day is through

Fine dining as agent of change

I have always had generally blue color leanings politically. It always seemed easy for the right to say you need to pick yourself up by the bootstraps when they generally aren't the ones needing the picking up. I have always been aware of class, have and have nots. The nobility of the worker and work. In kind I still prefer real food, food with an origin, with history. Food that has developed over centuries by out of necessity and context. Peasant food, rustic, call it what you will. I tend to see it as 'real' food. There in I have linked food and politics. Food and my view of the world. Food as substance instead of consumption. Food can represent the work of a culture, the mana of the everyman. So here I am working fine dining. Granted, I work within a traditional cuisine, yet I make food that my parents or family, for most of there lives, couldn't afford. It's a common cooks conundrum. I make food that I myself cannot afford to eat. Hee-larious. It is that sort of reinforcing of the servant class, that so many chefs today bristle against. This desire to be legitimized, to be seen as professionals. It is hard enough for chefs, for cooks it is impossible. So were do I stand as a cook. Am I simply a servant to those who can afford my skills. Paid labor. Or is there something more to this avenue of cuisine? Should I say screw it all and go back to my roots and immerse myself in middle/working class cuisine. What can be had in Fine Dining.
First and foremost it is a pursuit of ego/passion. It is the pursuit, as a craftsman, to put out the best product one can. As well as to hone ones skill as sharply as one can. The best way to do this, as far as I've found, is to produce food that has the highest expectations. The monetary tag associated with a fine dining dish requires skills of the highest order, executed as consistently as possible. While there are certainly skills that cross over several genres of restaurant cookery, fine dining requires the most care overall. There are many restaurants that can produce tasty nutritious food, and don't charge an exorbitant amount, yet they also don't require the same collection of skills. Fine Dining requires the full use of the cooks toolbox. Vegetable cookery, butchery, Charcuterie, Knife skills, etc...While later I may look to apply some of these in more humble settings later, this is the only way for me to use all of them all of the time.
The other aspect of Fine Dining that I have always been attracted to is the ability to educate. Diners respect the source of a fine dining establishments ingredients. It is understood that an upper end restaurant should be using the best possible ingredients at all times, so what are the best possible ingredients and why are they (the fine dining establishment) using them? While the celebrity chef has taken food into the realm of entertainment, local restaurants can still educate and influence diners. Emeril, and Bobby may spout generalities about 'good' cooking, but local restaurant can actually educate diners about good ingredients. They can actually experience why they are good. I'm lucky to be working at a restaurant where almost 80% of raw product comes from within 100 miles from the restaurant. I'm also lucky to be working in a city where that is the norm, not the exception. However there is still so far to go. When diners realize that local products, directly reflecting a seasonal diet, are superior to mass produced products we can start re-thinking the way we buy and sell food. The awareness of organic produce and beef has already begun a consumer swing. People are thinking about what they consume. I believe this is in part due to fine dining. Fine dining restaurants in an attempt to provide it's customers with the best product have realized that by going local they are receiving fresher, riper, diverse product at a relatively reasonable price. The whole process of a diner discovering something delicious and wondering why the same thing at the store sucks, is an indirect education. "That tomato was amazing. Where did it come from, and where can I buy them?". Sure it isn't answering the big questions of feeding and housing the homeless, but it is eliciting thought. Providing an alternative way to look at food. Or at least a point of discussion. Why do these Chefs choose this food, and why can't I have access to the same? Why is the produce at my grocery store dominated by shipped in, unripe, tasteless vegetables? Fine dining won't supply solutions either, that needs to be determined by the consumers ability to create a demand.

I am an impatient Sort

This whole process of learning to cook, learning about food is ceaseless. Just when you master a skill, or feel at least competent, then the door to something else is opened. This trip can only be truly measured by looking back at what I've done. Where I started, and where I am. Am I content? No. Do I regret, or believe I have let myself down? No. I am anxious. Anxious to know everything I can, yet become frustrated when I do something that doesn't involve moving forward. Watching a movie, playing a video game, taking a nap. Knowing there is so much ahead fills me with anticipation and guilt when I am not fully applied to food. This is also what keeps me going. There is more. There is no room to be lazy, or content. I am not competent enough, yet. There are more challenges. There will always be challenges. I am still impatient. I am still not content, yet I am still so damn excited. I think I really do enjoy knowing that food will always be a slightly elusive mistress. I will never get bored with it. I will becom more familiar yet there will still be surprises.
This is why, I think, I've chosen the fine dining route. There is always a higher standard that one can hold themselves to. The product can always be a step closer to perfection. Things can always be more consistent. Of course, I expect, this will temper with experience. Once I'm done trying and testing myself I will settle in. I will find my particular voice within food. Maybe a pub. Maybe a tiny bistro, or a B&B. Maybe it'll be some shrimp shack in the Keys. That's the beauty of it all. It still hasn't played out. The food still hasn't given up all it's secrets, and what I can do with the knowledge is still unfolding.

Tired: Or I'm a whiny teacup

Once again I'm tired. It seems as if this is a perpetual state. Everyone is tired. I don't think there is anyother way to be in the restaurant industry. If you get enough sleep then you aren't working hard enough. It's a strange world to live in. It's nice when someone else validates it. "Thank God it's not just me". I get worried that I can't hack it. That if I'm this tired what will it be like when I have my own place. It's easy to assume that those who are successful have it easy. In reality they are just as beat as the rest of us. There are no breaks, no lunches, no weekends, no vacations. It seems I write mostly about how hard this business is. In part it's venting. But mostly it's a necessary rationalization. I should be tired. This is a hard business. I do work alot. It's easy to forget about when you are surrounded by those who do the same thing. You assume that since you are feeling the effects that you are somehow not as capable, or doing something wrong, or not cut out for it. There is a necessary understanding that it's just the way it is. If you want to succeed, you're just going to be tired (of course this applies to any pursuit). Cooking on the line is most likely the most stressful job, where someones life isn't immediately on the line (of course someones livelihood is). During service you are pummeled with orders for hours. During that time you are forced to focus on several components, all of which have different cooking times, and techniques. All of these things have to come up together just to put out one plate, and that plate must be perfect. Perfect, like the one before it and the one after it. You do that hundreds of times a night. When it's all over, you clean up, take stock of what's been used and get ready to do it all over the next day. The exhileration of sevice lingers for hours. Slowly the adrenaline, caffeine and nicotine that has kept you going for the last eight, ten, twelve hours, begins to fade. The next day you wake up and head to the shop to find the same sense of urgency that go you rolling the day before. Over time you become uncomfortable having only one or two things to do. Days off become midless shutdown days. 'What the hell am I supposed to do outside the kitchen?' 'Shouldn't I be working?'. It's really bad when you wish you were working and it's your day off. You understand the necessity of not working. One must take time off or one becomes a little batty, a little scattered, and a littel pissy. Yet on that day off you just can't get comfortable. Where's the rhythm? Wheres's the commotion? Where's the adrenaline? Where's my damn prep list?!

Long week

Of course the downside of small restaurants is the lack of labor. Each component is integral to function and when a component goes down things don't work quite as well. There isn't a large part time labor pool always looking for more shifts. Somebody, or somebodies, has to pick up the slack. It puts a strain on operations. No big deal in a pinch but real gaps can be hell on consistency and morale.

Accentuate the positive: Why working in a small restauran kicks ass

Despite the bleak pictuire I've painted, I have rarely, in my life, felt more reward. There are victories on a daily basis, both personal and oragnizationally. Seeing people enjoying your work and the vision of the establishment is far more gratifying than any other industry I've been involved in. There is a level of commraderie that is only superceded by those in life and death situations. There is also a great personal satisfaction at the end of the shift. You've done your job well (to the satisfaction of the customer, the chef and yourself) and there is little left. You think about the things to do tomorrow, what prep you need, the number of potential customers etc. but outside of that there is nothing else. There is no take home job. What you take home is satisfaction in completion. Granted you'll do the more or less the same thing tomorrow, but today you've clearly won the battle. Of course there will be the bad days, but instead of impacting the future, the bad day, when done, is done. You learn from whatever made it a bad day. By having a bad day you become a better cook and hopefully decrease the chance of having another bad day. Of course there are going to be gripes, but gripes in a restaurant are not like inter-office politics. You either blow your stack and resolve it or you get over it. We work too closely under too much stress for there not to be exposed nerves, but as long as you realize that, then it ain't no thing. It is one great dysfunctional family reveling in disfunction. One great dysfuntional family grinding out good food, doing a job others don't understand and doing it at a consistently high level. So when the place succeeds (something I have far too little experience with) everyone takes pride everyday. And everyday we strap in again, slam an espresso, and enjoy the adrenaline of a long night of making people, including ourselves, happy.

Will I make it: or, so you think you can be a chef, huh?

A little Obsessive Compulive, a little paranoid, a little anal retentive, a little insecure, a little competative, a little bit of a control freak, a little bit of arrogance. It's odd that traits the rest of the world vilifies, traits that most wouldn't confess to, traits that have spawned an entire pharmacopia, are the traits that can make someone a successful chef. Cooks are on an Island. When they send a plate out there is noone else responsible for the quality of that plate but themselves. Hypothetically it's the Chef who is ultimately responsible, (they hired the cook, they trained the cook, their name is on the menu), but in the real world things get busy, and trust becomes paramount. The chef needs to trust a cook to execute properly. In order to execute properly every time, without fail, a cook needs to be aware, excrutiatingly aware. This awareness, this intimacy, magnifies even the most minute flaw or deviation. No matter wether you're flipping burgers or searing foie gras, ultimately your actions, your work, determines wether the food is received well or not. Of course there are always the cranks that couldn't tell cardboard from Cotes de Bouef, they don't count. The vast majority of customers, however, can and do count. And they are the true measure of your success. It's this relentless awareness, driven by paranoia, insecurity, and plain old fear that fuel the fires. What about passion? What about love of food? I suppose that's the positive spin. Almost no one in their right mind would consider a career cooking if they weren't passionate about food. Being in love has some serious baggage that comes with it though. Insecurity, and scrutiny eventually give way to confidence and understanding. With food and cooking this process of synthesis is a long journey. To truly understand technique (moreover food itself) you have to struggle. Struggle to master the techniques and understand the medium, not only of cooking, but of the industry as well. It is this struggle that takes the toll on so many. Those who thought it would be easier. Many realize that for them, it's just not worth it. Everyday I ask myself if it's worth it. Everyday I answer myself, 'it makes me happy. It's worth it'. I'm tired. I ache. I question my abilities everyday. Always wondering. Am I quick enough? Am I accurate enough? Are my senses polished? Am I learning enough? Am I pushing myself hard enough? Am I too old for this shit? If I wasn't questioning these things I believe I'd be too comfortable. When one is comfortable it's too easy to take shortcuts, forget the details. I suppose settling is my fear. What these insecurities really add up to. Settling. Many will settle. I'm looking forward to the day when my insecurities and fears become confidence and understanding. It won't be settling but resolution, fully understanding what I have learned and what I have yet to learn.

Dicks, bitches, fucking assholes: Or 'There is no Island of Misfit Cooks' pt2

Cooks are often romanticized as nomadic characters, running on the boundary of society, living hard, playing hard, just as likely to be in jail as at work. When it comes to upper end dining, That's pretty much a load of bullshit. While the industry does allows flexibility in the character of it's employees, some core qualities are still required. You have to give a damn. You have to show up. You have to do drugs on your own time (preferably not on your own time right before work, that's a bad idea). You don't drink until your shift is mostly over, but generally follow the lead of management. You can't be a fucking dick. This last statement needs some qulaifying. There are a lot of dicks in the kitchen. I'm one. However there is a major difference between a dick and a fucking dick or a fucking asshole. A dick can be compulsive, moody, mildly confrontational (overly confrontational and your a fucking dick), a smart ass, and sophmoric. Sometimes the dick rubs you the wrong way, most of the time you tolerate them because, well, your probably a dick to. But under that all, a dick just really wants good food to go out the window. When that ceases to be the focus, when things become unstable, when pettiness becomes paramount, the dick can become a bitch. Being a bitch can be tolerable as long as the job gets done and not too many people are getting pissed off. When the bitch becomes a fucking asshole, it's all over. A fucking asshole, or fucking dick, can rip the gentle fabric of kitchen cohesiveness as if it were so many yards of charmin. Why is this even an issue? In most businesses people follow rules of conduct that try and prevent coworkers from aggravating other coworkers. You know like acting professional, being a grown up blah blah blah. (Yeah, well other businesses don't have employees slumped over a stove for six to ten hours straight. Of course, there are a lot of dicks, bitches, and fucking assholes in the real world. They're just harder to spot initially due to the superficial curtiousness.) You see cooks don't make a lot of money. Since there is little financial motivation to cook, pay in this market is pretty much capped at ten bucks an hour for a line cook, you aren't necessarily attracting the best and brightest. (There is a resurgence in cooking over the last fifteen years or so. More people are going to cooking school, more college age students are going into the kitchen instead of getting Philosophy, or Art History degrees. Being a Chef has become more fashionable; few realizing the actual effort it takes to become succesful though.) Hiring some kid with no experience because he seems like a good kid. Hiring a potentially burned out seasoned pro with too much experience, because talent is needed at an untalented price (big red flag, potential fucking dick). All in all though, it is hard, stressful work that requires skills, cooking and otherwise, that few truly possess. So here we are, the kitchen is populated by potential malcontents, why? In order to work under these conditions, for this pay you have to be a little bent. You care about food, you really believe you can be successful at it, you like the lifestyle, and/or you don't know how to do anything else.

What is a foodie?

I honestly don't know. I sort of assume that a foodie is one who has chosen food in all of it's facets as a hobby. I have a friend in town. We were talking about where to eat that night. Being from the south, he likes to get as much varied ethnic cuisine in him while he's in town. This is right up my ally. When I do go out I like to eat simple, clean, purposeful food. Food that has history. Not that I don't also enjoy more elaborate dining, but working in that environment all the time has jaded me a bit. I love dropping a franklin on myself for dinner and drinks, but I'm also a bitch. I feel as if I'm in analysis mode when I should be relaxing. So my friend and I are talking about were to eat, which leads to a discussion on restaurants with another friend who was present. He made reference to the fact that I tend to go to out of the way ethnic restaurants and he likes good food but also likes to be seen. He used the term 'purist foodie' and 'scenester foodie'. Which I thought was funny. 1) I don't consider myself a foodie, though I love food, since I do this for a living 2) I didn't really think about classifying foodies. Once the wheels were in motion though I realized that there are several strains of the contemporary foodie.

1)Purist Foodie: seeks out traditional, authentic cuisine regardless of where, and really thinks they now what the cuisine is about (and are usually wrong).

2)Scenster foodie: Really likes good food, but thinks it tastes better when served somewhere by pretty people for pretty people.

3) Wannabe foodie: The foodie that wishes they actually had the balls to cook professionally. They fancy themselves chef material but have no real idea what a chef is. Really enjoys being called chef by friends. A disturbing psuedo-erotic worship of Emeril, Bobby Flay, Tyler Whats his name or any other TV Chef.

4) Wine Geek: I lump this in because of the natural connection between food and wine. Of course there are serious classifications within the broad spectrum of wine geek; from California oak chomping ingrate to serious Barolo quaffing oenophile.

5) Home Cook: Someone who just really likes to cook, has no real desire to do it professionally. May enjoy entertaining, likes to casually learn about food, beut generally just likes to eat well. The true home cook is a credit to the foodie world.

6) Scoop: The foodie that really wants to find the next great place to eat. Forst to post on the message boards, first to give their two cents. A fickle bird. It's not known what is more important to Scoop, good food, or finding a new restaurant.

This is just an 'off the top of my head' list. I'll be updating this list now and again as new strains are verified.

Food as craft (pt1 of many)

There is a desire, by both layman and professionals, to lump Chefs with artists. It can be understandable. The layman is presented with food they themselves are incapable of creating, and potentially elicites any number of emotions. Some Chefs also enjoy propigating this concept for what reason I don't know, I can only speculate. My guess is ego. The real procedure, skill and techniques, however, are shrouded in a hidden kitchen by years of training. It is this training of skills that elevates the understanding and manipulation of food. Just as a Scientist can be viewed as Wizard by a primitive culture, so is the Chef seen as artist. The abilities of the true Chef are so superiorly honed that their creations may seem to be that of pure inspiration. Not to discredit the creativity of top chefs; however they have achieved a level of artistry through mastery of a craft, not necessarily some amorphous muse. Only by mastering technique can one truly master their medium. Only through mastering ones medium can one truly express their ideas fluidly. So many young chefs are lauded for their creativity without truly mastering there chosen craft. Too often creativity is emphasized rather than skill and consistency. It is this lack of mastery that often clouds the food of young chefs. This creative process requires the manifesting of idea into tangible form. The only way for that to translate fluidly is for there to be no resistance in the flow of idea. If one does not master ones medium then ideas do not flow smoothly. Just as I struggle with translating my ideas to words, as writing is not my profession, so does the young chef or aspiring cook struggle with turning vision into truly edible food. That is where the true Chef shines. It is through a thorough understanding of the manipulation of product that they visualize and predict the eventual outcome. Not to say that even the most experienced Chef does not experiment or guess at times; however the window of error is far smaller and most likely only perceivable by the Chef themselves. Where as misjudgement or poor 'editing' by an aspiring chef can be noticeable to all.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Another Sunday in the books. Generally at this time (it's 11:00 pm) on a Sunday I'm asking myself 'why the hell am I still cooking?'. It takes two jobs to pay my student loans, house bills, and save a little for an eventual trip abroad. Hey, no big deal right? Plenty of cash coming in to cover what I want to do. Damn though if it don't add up. Up at 6:00 am, cook breakfast until 2:00 for the chronologically challenged. Off to the pm place for a little dinner service, home by 10:00, or so. It's a numbing day filled with caffeine highs and lows, lulls and rushes, and an unavoidable afternoon crash. Breakfast really is a brutal shift. Not only does the shift start too early for one to be thinking clearly, but despite it's seemingly straightforward appearance (Eggs, potatoes, toast, right?) it can be one of the most mentally taxing. No one likes to wait for breakfast and the general simplicity of the food makes for quick preperation. Also, EVERYONE has their own breakfast quirk, which shows up as modifications to orders. (A brief aside. A modification is any alteration to an order that is not on the menu. Say, the standard breakfast comes with, 2 eggs, potatoes, toast, and meat of your choice. Easy enough. Now Customer A has that standard breakfast, but wants toast dark. Easy enough, I can forget about toast. That's generally how it get's dark. Customer B would like the standard breakfast without potatoes. No problem, one less thing to worry about. Customer C would like the standard breakfast with no potatoes, no toast, and fruit on the side. OK, now I'm getting pissed. I have to stop my flow and grab fruit for the plate. Customer D would like the standard Breakfast with eggs basted, one piece wheat toast, one piece sourdough, bacon crispy, potatoes fried instead of hashbrowned. Fine dammit, toast no problem, I'll ruin the bacon, drop potatoes in the deep fryer, and throw some eggs in a pan on the back burner with a lid. Anyway you get the picture.) Instead of falling back on instinct and muscle memory at 8:00 on a Sunday morning, I HAVE TO THINK. And there's nothing, as a cook, that I hate more than having to think about an order. Oh yeah, and the shift is six hours long. No breaks. Needless to say by hour four I'm starting to fade. Hour five hits, and everyone is my enemy. The customers are like wolves tracking the smell of blood; waiting for the first sign of visible weakness to pounce. Hour six and I am a crushed broken man. Uncurling myself from my fetal postion on the floor I collect my knives, bid everyone adieu and propel myself home. Shell shocked, I head to the pm joint, swearing that I will not work breakfast past memorial day. Of course I've told myself the same lie over and over. 'I won't work another Easter'. 'This is my last Mothers day'. 'I'm no breakfast cook'. Of course, like Sysiphus, I keep coming back. But really I'm no breakfast cook, I can quit at anytime. Just doing this to make a little extra cash. I can quit anytime.