Defy

Hard to believe the year is almost over. I had no idea this year would be so insane; figured it would be cooking and a little paperwork. Never counted on palace coups, money matters and guards shifting around my feet like I live on a faultline. But it has and some weeks are great, some I'm lucky just to get through, but I will continue to persevere. I like my school, staff and most of the kids even. My Dad always said that you're only ever as good as the people who work for you, and my people are the very best. Hands down. We're a happy kitchen. We may screw up occaisonally, with french toast sticks, but we come back strong with a mighty red gumbo. We try our best everyday, no matter what.
And I'm proud of what we do. No matter what the bigwigs say with their audits and inspections, we can hold up our heads. We defy everything, Flash financials, inventory glut, inspectors, maybe even gravity. No one is going to stop us.

"Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity,
And you won't bring me down..."

--Wicked

Holi-Dazed

It's December and the last day of service for us is December 17th and everyone is counting down. Teachers, students, staff, we're all ready for a break. I'm writing my menu for January, for the first time all by myself. I'm learning to do inventory and deal with the money and all the logs they want me to keep. It's mind-boggling, but I will get the hang of it. Now, I'm tired but there's Christmas shopping to be done and I've no elves to do it for me. So off I go to the mall, wish me luck.

Thankful

Well, life can turn on a dime. I'm supposed to be in Florida, chilling with the family and getting ready to stuff myself with turkey and dressing. However, due to circumstances, I'm spending the holiday in Charlotte with the hubby, cooking my Thanksgiving dinner on the fly tomorrow. I braved the grocery store on a semi-busted ankle on the day before a massive feast day, which is just criminally insane and now have realized I forgot the chicken stock. Grrr. But that's ok. I'll improvise.
This year, I know money is tight for everyone. People are cutting back on their roast beast, gifts, travel and trimming. Maybe that's good for us, to learn to do with less. But here is something to think about; it doesn't take much to throw a few extra canned goods into your cart, or to pick up an extra Barbie while you're buying for nieces and cousins. So think of others this year and be the helping hand. The donations have been slim and the need is greater than ever. You never know but that one year, the person needing the help could be you.

Be the change you wish to see in the world.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Best.Mom.Ever.

I feel sorry for folks who don't have family nearby. Or can't get along with their families. I have a great, though very small family. I'm very lucky, we all get along pretty well. Since I was attacked by ninjas who pushed me down the stairs and broke my ankle, my mom came up to help me through the first few days of it. After she bought groceries, did the laundry and cleaned my apartment, she made me tea and toast and fixed me dinner. I really appreciated it so I'm giving a shout-out. Thanks Mom, you're the best!

And Down Goes Frazier

I was going to blog today about how last week was a no-good, terrible, awful week, full of very bad things. It rained too much and my dining hall roof leaked, it was "Dad's week" and so at any given time, I had 10-20 Dads trying to give me money, none of whom have exact change. We had to go back to using real trays, which meant I was in the dish pit all day. I had to work both Friday, technically a day off since school was closed, and Saturday, all day for a catering. But it ended on a high note, because my husband came home for the weekend and took me out to dinner for our 5-year anniversary. And my catering job went really well and I was happy with the work I did there.
But I'm sitting here blogging in a splint, because instead of having the bad week end, I decided to fall down the stairs today and break my ankle.

Yeah, I got nothin'.

Not Really

Sometimes you feel like the world has somehow called a conference and it has put you and yours at the top of the list. To be addled, irritated and otherwise tormented. Its an insane sort of thing that makes you wonder how you manage to breathe without assistance, much less manage a kitchen. It's called an audit. Guarenteed to go over everything with a fine tooth comb and then find every single thing that you ever did wrong. Then call you on it. Even if you didn't know better, even if it wasn't your fault.Even if there was no other way.
Doesn't matter. Not really.

One Woman Army

Could have used an intern today, for sure. Pizza day, simple from a prep standpoint, manic from a service standpoint. Not to mention it was chocolate milk day. Gah. I made 5 gallons of chocolate milk, only got me through the first two lunches. 10 gallons of milk. I'm serious, my hons, these chickadees consume on an average 10 gallons of milk on chocolate milk day. Whoo...

And Then I Was the Bug

When you've just gotten paid, avoid at all costs going to the mailbox. Because while it may net you your new ServSafe certification (which I passed, only missing 3 questions) and a cool gift from your friend Danny and his wife Stephanie, it will also get you bombed with a doctor's bill and a property tax bill for the pretty but used car you bought in July. Property tax on a car? I paid sales taxes on it when I bought the thing. It's never going to increase in value. I won't make any money if I sell it. WTH, NC?! Well, there goes my next few paychecks. Bah.

Smoosh.

Sometimes You're the Windshield

Kids like corndogs. They like them alot. Not to mention they are ridiculously easy to make. Being frozen and all. So despite some issues about getting the help that's been promised us, late deliveries and random foolishness, we hit one out of the park today. Next week we lead off with Indian food and wind up with nacho bars. The month is almost over and we are swinging for the fences.

At some point I'm sure I'm going to be the bug.

Who's Next?

Is there any organization out there, government or private who has not been into my kitchen? I've had two inspections in the last two days. Both designed to make me clinically insane. But I came through both with my skin attached. We did ok on both our inspections. Onlt 4 days in this week and then I get 3 days off. 2 more days....

Jonah Days

Some days your job does not just cleave your sanity from your soul, or nibble away at your sleep and your body. Some days it swallows you whole. Naturally, that is not what I had planned. When I took this job, I thought it would be challenging. I never thought about what it would do to me to be torn between my bosses and my clients, alternately threatening and cajoling my suppliers, dancing like the organ grinders' monkey for health inspector (who really is very nice) and all that. But I adjust. I eat a bit less, I sleep a bit more. I knit when I can think straight enough to read the patterns. I may screw a few things up but I will persevere. This job will not push me, will not break me. Even Jonah got out of the whale in the end.

Call me Ishmael.

Walk with Heroes

It's been 8 years since we walked with heroes. Firefighters and policemen, soldiers and civilians, who rushed into the thick fog of war to help those who needed them. On that day 8 years ago, we saw a city burning, a field in shreds, a fortress fallen. But on that day, we also saw those who knew that by doing what they did, they might never go home, but someone else would. They stood up, they offered their own lives for ours. Think of them today, and remember when we walked with heroes.

It's Good to Be Chef

Although sometimes I miss the days when it wasn't my responsibility. When it wasn't my head on the block day after day. Being Chef doesn't mean you get to sit on your butt while everyone else does the work. Being Chef means you work harder than anyone, because it's your kitchen. And the person who will be judged by what comes out of it is you. When you have no dishwasher, you are the dishwasher. You are the maintenance person, the vegetable chopper, the floor mopper, the stock unloader, the server, chief cook and bottle washer. You are everything. You make decisions, and you better make them fast, because you only have a few hours before 280 kids are going to come in hungry.
The first week has had a few challenges, power outages, parent complaints, late deliveries and corporate visits. Trying to hold up standards that no one wants to support. Crumbling facilities, breaking equipment, lousy wiring, and sketchy staffing. My nerves are shot, I'm tired and my feet are killing me. This kitchen might be cursed, but it's mine. It is as Master Yoda once said, "Do, or do not. There is no try."

On the plus side, it's good to know I can still cook.

Things You Can't Do with Only 3 People

You cannot feed 200 kids. You can't punch cards, run dishes and replenish the line. You can't collect cash or write down names. You can't even breathe.
Today was ok though, considering the manic craziness that is the first day of school. Kids got fed, kitchen got cleaned. the world continued to revolve on its axis. There was no plague of locusts, also no one died.

Some days that's all you can ask for.

The End is Near

The end of summer, that is. Next week I am back in the trenches at my new job, getting supplies ordered, getting organized, badgering the facilities people to hang up whiteboards, mop hooks and (hopefully) dropping a new receptacle so I can plug in my mixer. I have so many lists that my lists have lists right now. Not to mention a decided preponderance of sticky notes. I'm ready to get back into work, a bit worried that I won't remember how to batch cook, or that my food will be icky. All crazy talk of course, I know. Everything will be fine as frog hair. In the meantime, I'm going to grab some relaxation time, as it's the last I'll have for a bit.

Gentleman, start your engines...

Meet Sabrina Rose

SABRINA fair
Listen where thou art sitting
Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of Lillies knitting
The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair,
Listen for dear honour's sake,
Goddess of the silver lake,
Listen and save!

That little poem there is by John Milton. It is about a water-sprite who saved a virgin from a fate worse than death. And for those of you who know your films, an Audrey Hepburn film, later remade with Julia Ormond and Harrison Ford. Also, it's the name of a teenage witch. All very appropriate for my new (to me) car.

Yes it is a 2006 Lincoln Zephyr. Gorgeous, leather interior, heated seats/mirrors and every bell or whistle you could put on a car. Less than 24K miles on it. Rides like butter, and schools those little Mazda 3 like nobody's business. Zoom Zoom that, Mazda.

"So, Sabrina's the virgin?"

"Sabrina's the savior."

Behind the 8 Ball

So, I got a promotion. I am now Chef Supervisor at a different school. Money is still not fabulous, but I have good hope. We are starting out behind the eight ball this year. This account has been mismanaged and has posted a loss for two years. So I have to go in shooting to kill to pull this thing out of the hole. It won't be pretty, but I didn't go into cooking to be pretty.

Not Over till it's Over

But it's almost over. Tomorrow is the last catering event of the year, ending a week of long, crazy days. I'm tired, filthy and my back aches like a bad tooth. I must say upon reflection, that this year has been equal parts of suck and awesome. My work is great, at times frustrating, but very rewarding for the most part. I've made some seriously awesome food and people have noticed. They have given me kudos. My bosses have given me props and understand that they may have to worry about most of the kitchen, but they won't have to worry about me. If I don't go back next year, I know I am going to miss it. I know that they will miss me. But we will burn that bridge when we get to it. For right now, I'm going to haul my carcass to the showers and then to bed with a nice dose of painkillers.

Someone tell the fat lady she's on in five...

V is for Vendetta

It started last Friday. What was a nice relaxing Friday went to hell in a fast car. Two people called out sick. The big boss lady who hates us came to visit and found plenty to gripe about. Everyone ran around like crazed chickens trying to sort things out to please her. To no avail...
Then I went to Atlanta, where the allergies which had been irritating me decided to try to eat my face. I saw much yarn in ATL and everything I liked was too expensive. Figures.
I came back to work this week and it has been a long string of bummers, culminating in my car's deciding to go totally Sybil on me. So now I am sitting at the dealer. I'm exhausted and hungry and annoyed. I think karma might be out to get me. And there's still two more days left...

"You may be paranoid, but only because they are out to get you..."

I Dreamed a Dream

Maybe you've seen it on youtube or somewhere...Susan Boyle of Britain on Britain's Got Talent. She's about 50, short, plump, out-of-work...she went on this show because she wants to be a singer. Everyone was rolling their eyes and laughing as she told them she would sing "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables. They were laughing, until she began to sing.
She was amazing. Crystal-clear and pitch-perfect.
Talent does not always reside in the obvious places. It pays to try to see greatness, even in the most humble.

Rock on Susan. Because once in a while, we all dream a dream.

"But there are dreams that cannot be, there are storms we cannot weather..."

I Can Haz Noo Shoes?

Lookit! This is why we always buy the best possible shoes for the dollar. My old pair, which were purchased in May of last year, the right shoe lost it's sole. Or sold it to the Devil for 40 pieces of silver, whichever. The result was mayhem. Everyone said, "Just go to Wal Mart and get a pair of shoes..." But me and my dad held out. So I took them to the Red Wing store. The nice man looked at them and said, "Um, that shouldn't have happened to this shoe. Unless you stepped on a land mine." Since I still have both legs, that wasn't the case. They gave me a new pair of shoes, not one penny paid.
There are companies out there who still believe in their product and in customer service. That's why when I need to purchase new shoes, I'm going straight back to that Red Wing store.

I finally caught a break.

Oh Snap!

Be wary of calling in sick if you work in a kitchen. If you feel your ears burning all day, it's because we're talking smack about you. Really. All day long.

Freakin' Snow

Winter is not over yet. Not even a little bit. Looks like the groundhog was right.

Shuffle. Cut. Deal.

Well friends, I can tell you one thing. The worst day in the kitchen is better than the best day in the office. There is nothing that I have loved, hated, sweat for, bled for, or cursed, like cooking. That being said though, cooking, like crime, doesn't pay. Or it doesn't pay well and as I look at my bills piling up and my student loans looming large, I begin to realize that my job may just not cut it. I love it and I don't want to leave this industry that I've worked so hard to get into, but it may mean the difference between getting by and getting ahead.
Nothing is definite yet, and I'll never stop blogging. Just like I'll never stop cooking. I just may not be doing it for a living. But I know this much is true, working in kitchens is like working in a circus. Sometimes you're in with the lions, sometimes in the clown car, always working without a net. But it's still the greatest show on earth...

Baby It's Cold Outside

It is snowing today and I have an unexpected day off. I have a fire in my fireplace and a nice cuppa, not to mention some wool socks. I vow and declare that next year, they will be wool socks of my own creation. Since I'm home today, and I have a chicken in the fridge, there shall be some chicken and noodle made. Since it has been awhile since I gave ya'll a recipe, here you go. Make some when the weather is frightful.

Chicken and Noodle

1 rotisserie chicken

celery, chopped

carrots, chopped

rosemary, 2 tsp

thyme, 1 tsp

white wine, 1/2 cup

chicken stock, 1 carton

Now, this is not soup. It is a graceful melange of chicken and noodle-y goodness.

1. Pull the chicken off the bones. Save the bones and make stock. (what, you have somewhere to be in the snow?)

2. Pour the white wine and stock into a soup pot and add the chicken, veggies and spices. Cook until the veggies are al dente.

3. In a seperate pot, cook a 12 oz. package of egg noodles. I like the yolk-free because I have to watch my cholesterol.

4. Once the noodles are slightly less than al dente, drain them and add the to the pot with the chicken, veggies and stock.

5. Simmer all this together, stirring to mix occaisonally.

6. Salt and pepper to taste.

7. Spoon into bowls and serve with wine or a hot toddy.

So there you have it. Passed down to me by my mom who now has the silly thought that my chicken and noodle is better than hers. Fiddle dee dee is what I say.

Don't worry Mom, I'll never beat your mac and cheese.