Saturday 7.30am, and I really do have to get out of bed. My body is arguing with me again this morning. I am very sure that one day soon, it will convince me to stay right here and sleep'�'� just sleep! But! That won't be today, nope, today I will get up. My kitchen is calling, and I will answer it, even if it does sound a bit like, 'Groundhog day!'�
Shower, (eyes still wont open) coffee, cigarette. (Getting there?)
Phone rings. 'Good morning Sonia, I'm very sorry, but we are unable to deliver any asparagus, basil or rhubarb to you until tomorrow morning, is that o.k ?'�
I answer with a polite, and understanding. 'Yes, but I do really need it for lunch today, so if there is anything you can possibly do, I would really appreciate it!'�.
What I would really like to say is. For crying out loud, I need this shit for lunch and dinner, today! That's why I ordered it!! Not, fucking, tomorrow! I don't care if you need to express post it from Egypt! I want my god damn produce!!!! But if there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is that I am almost always in a foul mood when I wake up in the morning, and it's not wise to say the first thing that pops into my head, besides, this company is generally very good, and if I push them politely, they can also be very resourceful, so I hang up, cross my fingers, and cling to the final words of the young man on the phone. '�I will ring around and see what I can find?'� More coffee. (Awake now!)
Yeah!! Now its time to put on my favorite outfit! Checked pants, almost impossible to keep clean white jacket, steal capped work boots, apron and hat. Now this, feels sexy! Seriously I can not think of anything I would rather be wearing!
'Sonia, my dear you are looking gorgeous! Ha Ha!'�
Time to go! For 10 years now I have worked an average of 80 hours a week, rarely getting a day off. At the moment my torture chamber is the unfinished kitchen of a brand new restaurant, that is completely understaffed, and demanding 110 hrs of my attention per week. It's been officially open for 2 weeks now. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, and I am starting to get tired. My very small family, of dedicated, yet inexperienced team members, is also suffering.
It is a cruel thing, to hire keen young staff, some of whom have never had a job before, and then push them in their first week of employment, to do 80hrs of work'�'�..but I take my hat off to them, they are doing it, and to the best of their ability, (whoever said the youth of today have no work ethic, have never stepped a foot in my kitchen.) and for their self pride and level of dedication, I love them, they say they love me, and we are still managing to laugh, so I guess for the moment you could say that morale is high, considering the circumstances.
I am worried though, the little cuts and burns are becoming more frequent, one staff member cracked to tears from exhaustion last night, and I still have no new resumes. Chef shortages have been an issue my whole career. Who can blame people for not wanting to do this for a living, just to supply a meal for somebody else, that can't be bothered cooking for them selves? It's not as though we are dedicating all this time to save lives, is it! Oh well, never mind, it will eventually work itself out, it always does.
Phone rings. 'Hi Sonia, its me? I'm so sorry!!! I am running late! My alarm didn't go off! Or I didn't hear it, or something. I'm so sorry! I will be there as soon as I can! About 30mins, OK, sorry! I will work into my break if you want me to'�'� I reply with an impatient, but slightly understanding. 'Ok, see you when you get here.'� what I would really like to say is. 'Of course you are having trouble getting up, it is completely understandable, I have been working you like a dog, and you didn't get home until about 1am last night, and, seeing as you only own 2 uniforms, you probably had to stay awake waiting for the washing machine to finish, just take the day off you need some rest.'� But I can't, and to show any compassion at the moment, would only lead to trouble. Besides, now I have to really move my arse!
Phone rings and yep, another one is going to be late, fuck!!! No time to be tired now, got shit to do, arrive at work'�. Light ovens and pilots. Start fryers. Check prep lists for urgent jobs, and get as much prep started as is humanly possible!
Take out sweet pastry for tart cases.
80ltrs beef stock on the stove to reduce.
Salt 20kg duck legs ready for confit later.
Phone rings. 'Hi mate how are you doing? I was wondering if you have a kitchen hand I could borrow for lunch today? Mine has called in sick, I'm fucked, I have a function booked and I'm already a chef down?'� I let my friend know, I will do what I can, poor bastard, and I thought I was having a bad day!
Now this is multi tasking! 10kg cashew nuts in the oven to roast. Phone rings in-between calls to kitchen hands( all of whom I am waking up in the hopes of catching them off guard) ''� asparagus, and basil are on their way!'� Beautiful, but no rhubarb!
60 ltr pot of potato's on the stove for mash.
Sous Chef arrives.
Sweet pastries bases x 30.
Fifth phone call and I have filled the kitchen hand shift for my friend, its a good feeling. 'I owe you one mate, thanks!'� I can feel the smile of relief coming through the phone.
Start 2 chocolate cakes.
Phone rings. Boss wants to sit down and have a chat re; the menu, in about an hours time, and it can't possible be done at any other time?
Write note for front of house staff to inform them that we only have 6 rhubarb pies until tomorrow.
Rinse cured chicken so it is ready to char grill. Start romesco sauce, dry goods delivery arrives, breathe,'�..Good morning!, Good morning!, sorry I am late!, where do you want me to start, and the kitchen comes to life.
Five white jackets doing their crazy dance with fire and knives.
I sit down with boss for 20mins in the middle of this chaos when really I do not have the time, only to be told that she has made a few menu changes and she hopes that I don't mind? Of course I fucking mind, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that it would be pointless to speak in this moment, she had gotten a kick out of fucking with my menu and she wasn't about to back down, no time for this crap, got a kitchen to run!
All too soon, it's time! Get ready for the crowd! The dockets start, and I start blasting out directions, order after order after order until it is all a beautiful blur of food and fire, white jackets and noise, then, after 2 ½ hot fast hours, the jackets aren't so white anymore, the young green staff with eye's as big as saucers, have learned a little more about coping under pressure, to do list has increased yet again, and it goes quiet. The dockets have stopped, the last meals just left the pass, all the guests are quietly chewing, and I can stop talking, thank goodness, because I really am sick of the sound of my own voice. There is still an absolute shit load of prep to do, and, I want a cigarette! (Very happy fruit and vegetable supplier arrives with rhubarb! Amazing! And who would have thought that the arrival of rhubarb could be a great moment in anyone's day? (I think I am delirious)
Time for the younger staff to take a break now, but not before I give them a little pat on the back for their efforts during service, assure them that they are improving with every shift, and that it is ok that they made a couple of mistakes during lunch service, just so long as they learned something from it. I can only give them a 1 hour break today and they all spend it sleeping on the floor in the function room (how sweet, how sad). My second chef is not so lucky though, poor guy is the mirror image of how I feel, and there is no rest for either of us today.
Coffee, cigarette, and I take some time out now, to vent a little anger re my boss's brilliance earlier today, like I fucking needed it, the bitch has had a copy of the menu for 2 ½ fucking mths, what? Did she just decide to pick it up and read it last night? Is changing fetta cheese to chevre in a tomato salad going to have a direct and positive impact on turnover and, or revenue??? Should it not be on the top of her list to find some bloody staff! Maybe she should be focusing some of this excess energy on the completion of the fucking kitchen, because some shelving would be really fucking handy right now!
That's enough negativity, if she wants to change the menu, so be it, becuase after all it's her business. (Think happy thoughts.) Now back to the torture chamber'�.
Tonight is going to be busy, I have half the amount of staff I need, to pull it of perfectly, and for all but one of my team this is the first time they have worked in a commercial kitchen. The biggest service so far has been 100 meals, tonight we are looking at about twice that and to be completely honest with you, the idea of even attempting this is ludicrous! But I am assured the usual bullshit from front of house, like staggering dockets, not allowing more tables to sit down if the kitchen gets overloaded, and informing guests upon arrival if there is going to be a delay on their meals. Their heart is in the right place but you I both know that it was never going to be as simple as that.
After another 3 ½ hrs of hard core preparation, the kitchen is full loaded, so we have achieved step one, we've got the food! Step two, setup kitchen, to make it as easy, as it can possibly be, all that can be predone is done, sauces in dishes, portion control of everything, and if it can be preheated, it is. Step 3. Mentally prepare staff.(which translate to, use fear to achieve ultimate focus level.) Step 4. Slip out the back for a quick cigarette. Step 5. RUN!!!!
We keep up this pace until 11.45pm when finally after 270 guests had come and eaten everything we had prepared. It is all cleaned down, packed away, and slowly cooling off. It had gone as well as could be expected, everybody got feed, but there were delays and there were mistakes. It would have been ridiculous to have expected any more, from either myself, or anyone else in the kitchen, we had all given 150%, but I am still left with the peculiar dead feeling of failure, in the pit of my stomach.
It is not at all nice to go through a service like that. For me, the best analogy I can come up with, is that, all the dockets during the service could be seen as bullets, and everybody in the room is firing them at you, you do your best to dodge them, and to protect any other staff member from getting hit, and during a good service nobody gets hit, no matter from what angle they try and get you, but tonight we weren't so lucky, a couple got through, we had some casualties, I can see the damage my staff have sustained. It really wasn't a fair fight, we were completely out numbered! As I switch off the lights in the kitchen I can hear the room breathe a sigh of relief. The day is almost over.
Phone rings, my boss wants to know if I am ready to run with the menu changes for lunch tomorrow'�..Oh, ha ha, now she is just fucking with me'�..something is not right here?
One knock off drink and a few more cigarettes, as I watch my chefs limping out the front door. Now to do my ordering, and what's this! A resume. Oh joy and happiness'�.. Oh for shits sake, great, somebody in another part of the country is looking for some work here in about 6 weeks time, not available weekends, has done a hairdressing apprenticeship. Perfect. Who is the wanker that even thought I would want to see this one?
Get home, say hi to my very beautiful, loving, patient boyfriend and realize that I haven't eaten a thing all day, much to my other half's disgust, he is only worried about me I know that, but how can I possibly face a plate of food right now, it is the last thing I want to see'�.cigarette, glass of wine, toasted cheese and vegemite sandwich, sleep'�'�and back again tomorrow to do it all again.
My genius of a boss, after torturing me for a bit longer, finally let the cat out of the bag! She had received a better resume and 2 days before the end of my three month probation, she sent someone else (no doubt this was the same wise soldier that thought I would like to hire a hairdresser!) to let me know that my employment had been terminated, this was quite a kick in the teeth for me, in a way though, it was also a blessing. Firstly because I could have a day off! Woo Hoo! Also, it forced me to look at my life, and how I haven't had one for about 10 years!
I began to wonder what it would be like to work nine to five hours, and have a two day weekend. What on earth would I do if I had all that spare time? What would I wear everyday!!? I would have an extra 40hrs a week to fill in. I could have two full time jobs, earn twice the amount of money! Why had I never thought about this before? Now that I am thinking about it, what this also means, is that working on the theory that 40 hrs is a standard working week, I have actually been a chef for 20 years, not 10, which means, that by rights I should be a hell of a lot closer to retiring that I actually am!
Still doesn't solve the problem of what to do with my spare time? Could take up a sport? No, that's not my style.(Anyone that knows me is laughing out loud right now, I have claimed for years to be allergic to exercise) Could write a book? Ha Ha. I Could spend some time with my family and friends.
Now that would be different I don't think I have appeared in a family photo for about, well, probably 10 years, I have missed every birthday, wedding, funeral, and Christmas day, I am sure they just invite me now to be polite, because I always give the same answer. 'Oh, I would love to but I have to work'�
Actually it has gotten to the point now, that when I get a chance to go and visit, it is so rare they will have a family get together to celebrate the fact. Of course I end up cooking, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I feel like I have cooked for everybody's family but my own, so it is a treat to do it for the people that I love.
Maybe I should just go back to sleep, yep sleep, after all I've got a lot of catching up to do, and maybe tonight just for something different I will go out for dinner with my boyfriend, that would be nice. Oh No!! What to wear!!!!!!

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