29 signs you worked in a restaurant kitchen
I can relate to all of these except, maybe, the tatoo.
They only list caffeine as the recreational drug through a 14 hour shift.
They don't mention burn scars or serious cuts.
They don't mention working through a hangover which'll kill a small goat.
Or working through a summer heat wave in a 137F kitchen.
Or the appreciation of a very good server and the complete loathing of a bad one.
You compare burns and scars on your arms and hands.
You've been known to wear a chefs coat, side towel and Dansko clogs at home.
Touching my knives is a felony.
The ability to cook 2-3 dishes at once.
Not writing down that you used the last of an item from the pantry will get you hurt.
You always have a instant read thermometer in your pocket.
You can't wait to get out of the kitchen, but can't stop thinking about the gang when you're not there.
Wondering where to have sex on the premises without getting caught.
Hiding shit in the fridge 'cause somebodys gonna fuck it up.
Explaining your dish for a third time through CLENCHED teeth.
Ability to stand anywhere for hours at a time.
Simply nod and say "yeah, I know what you mean." when some 9 to 5er complains about being sooo tired from putting in an exhausting 5 hours of OT that week when you really want to say "Try working 12 hour days EVERY day for three weeks straight." While supressing the urge to get in their face and scream with flecks of spit flying everywhere "Eh dumbshit!? wanna try that on for size?! "
You've just come off a double and should be tired as hell but are as wired as a crack monkey in a research lab.
Your current boss at your non cooking job tells you something and you reflexively respond oui, chef.
Coworkers tell you to get your kidneys checked because you haven't gone to the bathroom since they can remember.
Ha! I used onions as an example...
at the supermarket, 2lb of yellow onions is 99c, thats $25 bucks for 50lbs.
Screw that, I get on the phone and order 50lb for $8.
Of course 2 months later half is bad and I have to throw 'em out. Still, half the sac is 25 lbs...for $8 is still 32c/lb (or 64c for 2lb worth....)
Mrs Porker got tired of it and allows me 10lb at a time max.
Not only the zzzzt zzzzt of the printers: mrs porker and I would be out having dinner in a restaurant. I could hear the ding ding of an order going into the pass. Meanwhile the waitress, googawing and textoodling on her telephone, doesn't hear a thing. I don't care who's order just came up, I wanna yell at little miss text-a-phone "Hey, young lady, get your head on straight, your ass in the kitchen, AND PICK UP!"
Instead, mrs porker covers my hand with hers, smiles says "I know, just relax, have some wine"
Yeah, its the little things you miss, like "hmmmm, I just bought a dressed, whole hog...how do I store it until the weekend?"
Took me awhile to stop buying onions by the 50lb sack.
Things were much simpler with a deep fryer at your fingertips.
You smile when your new boss in this new life asks if the tight construction schedule and overtime milestones are stressing you out and say "you kiddin me? this is a cakewalk."
That ticket machine on cooking shows drives husband and I nuts, and we never even worked in a kitchen. Something like the NICU pager after your first 12 hours on call. Long after I was done with the NICU, the same sound in a department store would make my heart race.