Pardon My Dust....

We all need a little change now and then, even in the blogosphere. I was in the midst of contemplating the start of a new blog, brainstorming names in that way that we do; when I realized that as hard as I was racking my brains, nothing I could come up with was better than what I already had!
Feeding the Muse has been mostly a blog about my life as a Chef, although it sometimes veered into this or that, and that has been swell. But as I see another bend in the road on the horizon I feel that I would like to take the Muse in some new directions. So you may see some reformatting, some different looks and different content coming soon.

don't panic.

Summertime...and the Livin' is Easy

I'm not sure about fish jumping; but in the South Memorial Day weekend is the unofficial beginning of summer. Kids are almost done with school, grills are firing up and pools are open for business. Now we all know what a hardcore Coca-Cola fan I am; to a fault. in fact. I drink entirely too much of the stuff for it to be good for me. So I set about the task of creating a summer beverage that would keep me happy without filling me with calories and/or chemicals.

Sweet Tea Spritzer
I'm sure that someone else has made this before me; so I won't say I "invented" it. But I like to think that I've adapted it to my tastes and made it my own.

I brewed Luzianne tea at super strength (one family-size teabag and about 10-12 oz of water) and also brewed some Celestial Seasonings Peppermint tea at 2x strength. I let them steep for about 5 minutes and poured them into a carafe with 3 packets of Splenda. It didn't make very much, but that's ok.
Pour about 3 oz of Sweet Mint Tea concentrate into a tall iced tea glass and then add ice. Then fill the rest of the glass with club soda or flavored seltzer water. It's fizzy and refreshing.

Adult modification: Add 1-2 oz of Limoncello to your glass before you top it off with seltzer. Makes a helluva Arnold Palmer for the over-21 folks.

Now, go relax on the porch.

One Year Later

I haven't posted anything here in one year, almost to the day. The Muse fled me at the end of last year and I could not find anything to say about spending another year in the same damn kitchen. Although this year, I finally got some competent help. So that made a nice change.
It was a contract year this year. And my company lost. So, for better or worse, I will not be in this kitchen ever again. The school year is winding to a close and so too, my time there. There are a few things I will miss; some people and some of the kids. Largely I will be glad to be gone.

It's leaving time...

Trouble by the Bushel

So here is a fun story...
I needed apples. The kids love apples. I called my produce company and ordered Gala apples, 113-125 count. Now, the "count" refers to the number of apples in a bushel, which is the case size. So 113-count means there's 113 apples in the case. It's a smallish apple, so it's great for my little kids.
The next morning, the delivery guy comes in with my apples. I look at the outside of the case...Red Delicious? Ru-roh, Shaggy! Those are not the droids I was looking for. I send them back. That afternoon, I call the produce company and talk to a person, order same apples. Gala, 113.
The next morning...Red Delicious. SERIOUSLY?! Did I not just send these back yesterday? Can they not read or do they not know a Red Delicious from a Gala? And if that is the case, why do they work for a produce company?! Delivery guy calls warehouse, they say they don't have Galas. I say, "You couldn't have told me that before I ordered them? I would've changed my order." I order Granny Smiths, 125 to be delivered that afternoon. They show up, with Granny Smiths, 77 count!!! These are freaking HUGE!
Call produce company, ask why the hell my apples are wrong, for the third time. Then order my granny smith apples for the next day, vowing that if they come in wrong this time, there will be a ruckus.
The next morning, I have a case of Granny Smiths, 125 count.
It took four days to get it right. *facepalm*

How bout them apples?

Maybe...

In the end, maybe none of it matters. When it all comes down to it, no one cares that you tried to feed them healthy stuff or that you tried to stay on budget. All that shows is numbers and bottom lines, and yours is bleeding to death. Because everyone wants an "upscale" dining experience but no one wants to pay for it. And everyone has an opinion, but no one will tell you to your face. In the end, all you get for caring so damn much is a constant headache and an ulcer. And no job is ever going to be worth that.
So maybe next year they'll have a new chef, and hopefully I will have moved on, and maybe that chef will have better ideas, more enthusiasm and then maybe that chef will learn what a soul-vacuum this place is.
Maybe...

The Hard Way

Some things you have to learn the hard way. How to squeeze a dollar from a dime. How to stick up for yourself. How to say you are sorry. So here are things I have learned so far.

1. Don't let anyone make you doubt yourself. Take a closer look at what you've been doing, and if it stands up to scrutiny, ignore those who would just say stuff for spite.

2. Some time you aren't just wrong, you're wrong at the top of your voice.

3. One person is a complainer. Two, three, four or more and maybe you should re-visit your decisions.

4. They don't pay enough to stress me out.

This year I'm starting a new quest to find a better position in my company. I'm going to apply to anything they will let me. Because I've been hanging on by my fingernails for long enough. It's time to let go.

Had to learn that the hard way too.

The Sum of All Things

There is a limit past which one cannot be pushed. There is a line in the sand. Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further. There is nothing more to learn, no mountain unclimbed, where you simply hold the line and wait for rescue that, most often, never comes.

They will tell you many things. Things you take on faith, things you want to believe. That you would be rewarded, that you had earned your place. Only to have those rewards evaporate and the place go to someone else. Sometimes you feel like you live on a chessboard, and people move you around, but because you cannot see the board, you don't where or why.

I'm tired. I'm tired of alot of things. I'm grateful to have a job at all mostly, but I'm tired.