Samarkand, Cocktails and Ice..

It seems that I use up a lot of these posts talking about work. This is perhaps because I do not do much else. I recently watched an episode of No Reservations, where Anthony Bourdain told me that the kitchen has always been a refuge for the socially awkward, and this is probably true. There was nothing to do tonight, apart from learn to be a line cook, so that is what I did. I learned that the cook I am usually on with actually prefers dish washing to cooking.. You see a restaurant cook is not a creative creature. Cooking for a living is not the creative process that TV would have you believe. In fact, it is more of a formula that must be followed to avoid being shouted at. A creative line cook is not a line cook that would last long. Well, there was so little to do that for a while I pulled up some milk crates and took a doze in my dish pit. I was awakened by the sound of orders being shouted into the kitchen, and of the cook being woken from a situation similar to my own. Until closing, I had to work hard.. When you are not prepared, hard work is harder to get used to, but I finally did and settled into the almost hypnotic trance that any sort of repetitive labor tends to induce.

I have found that I am able to take pride in my work as a dishwasher. Maybe it is a gift that I have how I am able to do this; that I can repeatedly give my best to a job where corners can easily be cut and no one would know, at least for a while. It really is satisfying to punch the clock at the end of the day knowing that you gave your very best, no matter how crappy the job is.

Isn't it funny how a vigorous morning bike ride sounds great now, yet come tomorrow will seem like a less favorable alternative to motor transportation?

Isn't bread cool? You can do so much with it, such as placing meat and cheese between two slices of it. Every culture in the world has a version of it, and in many it is given a reverent status. When I was very young and in Athens Greece, an old man told me I needed to finish my sandwich, because it represented Jesus. My elderly Italian relatives do the same thing, with my grandmother refusing to throw bread away, and wincing as if in pain when my father throws away the last mouldy hunk of a week old loaf. In my religion, certain bread is what our lives are built on. In Judaism, Islam and many other religions, bread is also viewed as sacred. In Germany, Britain, Ireland and NH, Liquid bread has an almost religious following. I don't like whole wheat bread. It doesn't appeal to me. I would rather not eat any bread at all then something that looks like it came out of a wood chipper. In my house, we are quite elitist when it comes to bread. Everyone will complain and groan at what is available locally. We are fond of bread that originates in New Jersey, and even prefer it stale over New Hampshire bread. I like Tortillas, preferably when wrapped around something fatty and spicy and deep fried. I also like wheat thins and cookies........ Snack time.