Pleasant House

“You will need to show your ID to pass through security….”

And with that, I knew this would not be an average kitchen.

To quell the suspense straightaway, last week’s stage was at the fine-dining restaurant of a large, upscale hotel, not NASA or the Department of Defense. Although it might as well have been, given the windowless, cinder-block labyrinth of corridors—storing dry goods, freezers and coolers, linens, kitchen equipment, and racks of recipes-in-progress the way the government guards secrets—that I had to walk through to reach the kitchen.

Like my previous stages, this one was a bit of a baptism by fire, only with a lot more people running around and multiple kitchens and dishwashing stations to contend with. Also, for the first time I didn’t know anyone on staff before beginning the job (my friend Darrin, who coordinated the assignment, was off that day). So the typical pleasantries of “how’s life, how’s your husband?” were sidestepped. It was right down to business.

The experience overall was positive, though not without mixed feelings—mostly met expectations, with a few highs and lows tossed in to keep things interesting. At one point—perhaps during my second hour of cutting a marshmallow mixture into ½-inch cubes, an especially sticky and surprisingly grueling task—I was convinced that the cramped, banging, cold environment of a hotel restaurant was not the best fit for me. Everyone in the kitchen was so feverishly absorbed in their own tasks in their own distant corners that it was difficult to see how it would all fit together.

Finally, seven hours later, some closure. With service well underway, I watched as the desserts were plated in the gilded, marble-ensconced, open service area overlooking the dining room and the city. As the orders left the line, it became clearer how the tasks I completed earlier in the day contributed to the polished, refined desserts that somehow emerged from all that chaos.

…Into which I will happily dive again next week.

05/23/09

I’m pleased with my increasing confidence level each time I step into a kitchen. If I’m going to work with any more French chefs, however, I may need to know more than “oui” and “bonne.”

Staff meal: mystery meat (my deduction: Salisbury steak), potatoes au gratin, boiled carrots, mixed-bag of salad bar items

1. When you don’t think you’re being tested, chances are you’re being tested.

This will often involve something mundane or tedious. How well do you handle a task that will ultimately find you covered in powered sugar?

2. You have to work hard to get the penthouse view.

For every souped-up, open kitchen overlooking the dining room and Lake Michigan, there are stuffy prep kitchens that smell of dead fish.

3. First, cure the aches in your head.

Yes, many kitchen tasks will cause your back to hurt. Find ways to relax and see the good in them, and your lumbar might not hurt so badly. (Good shoes help, too.)

4. Sometimes faster is better.

Ease the pate sucre into the mold, shape, and move on. If you contemplate your movements for too long, you’ll have melted dough all over your hands.

5. There is simply no good way to do some things right.

We know what causes thunderstorms. Staying perfectly dry, every time, is another matter. You may just have to step in a few puddles.