plated dessert process IIa

The Pep Talk

Michael calls in the morning. He asks how the baking is going. I say that I feel weird: unmotivated, lethargic, and I'm procrastinating. I don't feel excited even though I feel like I should. He says it sounds like I'm doing this tasting more for them and less for myself.

This is what friends are for. To help us translate our woe, our confusion. To help lift us out of our funk-- to dissolve our ambivalence.

He says that it's hard to do a tasting at this point in our career. He asks if I can quantify in percentages what part of me feels like this is for them and what part is for me. I'm not sure. I remember what one of the owners said in the interview. S/He said "that during the tasting I will see what working here might be like, as all three of us weigh in on everything that makes it to the menu." A group effort, if you will.

"Finding the right fit for this sort of kitchen is not easy. We need to find someone who can take criticism, but not personally." {do these people exist? in kitchens?}

It feels strange to me that I'm not excited to be baking at home. Michael helps to remind me that after this long process of waiting, not knowing, the tasting will tell me if I should be working there. " And I don't mean if they tell you you have the job or not. I mean you'll know from how they react to your work whether you want to work there or not." He says decidedly.

Will I know? How much of my desire to work there is just a desire to be working at all? To be working "again" as it were? To be in another restaurant kitchen.

To be defined as such.

Do me a favor. The next time you see me, or another person you know is a cook/chef, or get introduced to one of us at a party:

DO NOT ASK US WHERE WE ARE WORKING.

Maybe you could phrase it like, "O really, how fascinating. Are you currently working at an establishment I might frequent?"

See what I'm getting at? Many of us feel that if we are not working inside a professional kitchen that we are no longer cooks/chefs. It's an existential theory, but it's the idea that the industry shoves into our little heads. We are nothing without a paycheck. Nothing without a Name behind us.

The first day we show up for a trail or a new job the question on everyone's lips is, "Where are you from?"

And they don't mean geographically.

It's a little bit like being gay. We do not exist unless we have a partner. Eunuch, leper, spinster, lonely.

But a chef without a restaurant is a chef still. Might be a little freaked out that they have "gotten off the train." Might feel like they will never be welcomed on again. Might ponder the thought of letting the train just keep on going/getting off the train for good so they can:

put some time into a relationship, themselves, see the sun and breathe in the great outdoors again, see what summer feels like again, sleep in, eat a few meals in a row with utensils, get a massage, address their drug/alcohol problem, work eight hours a day and pay rent with that salary, become a private chef, dabble in catering, take a class and learn something new, read the newspaper and catch up with current events, read an actual book start to finish, go to a party, have a conversation about something besides how this or that purveyor sucks, meet someone who doesn't look like a vampire, wear something besides a uniform, take care of their athlete's foot, set their experience down in words, go to a birth/funeral/wedding/graduation, get on a plane and go somewhere for more than 2 days, garden, wiggle their toes in the sand, take a long gaze out at a faraway horizon,

and can they get back on the train after all this? After they get paid enough to live on? After their skin gets a little color? After their writing fulfills them? After their family gets to know them again?

Nothing is simple. The tasting I have in 2 days reminds me that I want this particular job for many reasons, not all of them sound.

How will it turn out? This depends on forces that have nothing to do with me.

And how much I can manage to hold onto myself.

Comments

[sam]

I don't know what to say. It looks like you said everything already. Like you said more than everything. I am not going to wish you luck, I am just going to hope that everything turns out as it should.
Thinking of you,
and thanks for thinking of me earlier today,

Sam x

[Joy]

Hoping that everything falls into place for you. xoxo.

[Malini]

Whichever way the tasting goes, I am hoping you come out of it with your spirit intact.

Criticism is always personal, simply because one's work is an extension of one's self!

[Tea]

I remember when I decided to quit my last official job in publishing--I was frightened of what I would say when I went to parties and people asked me what I did. Like I might cease to exist in some way.

It's hard when we have these jobs that define us and take all we have. But as much as you are your passion for cooking, you are more. And I know you will find your way to where you ought to be.

[Jennifer]

It is very narrow to only think of chefs as those who work in restaurants and yet restaurant chefs do. I haven't worked in a restaurant for over 2 years now and I am still a chef. When I chose my new direction, it wasn't without concern for the reasons listed in Shuna's post; I didn't want to be kicked out of the fraternity. The "club" of working horrible hours all the time, drinking lots of coffee, covering for people who don't show up, standing literally all the 12-14 hour day, eating grilled cheese sandwiches or quesadillas every night (too tired to do anything else), washing a bazillion chef pants, being screamed at by waiters...yes, so romantic. My concern about leaving "all that" lasted a minute.
I work for the largest contract foodservice provider in the world. I have the capacity to impact more people at "lunch" (which is what we do) than I ever would in a single restaurant.I have time to read, cook at home, see a movie. I travel a lot but that's okay. And yes, people still ask, when I tell them I am a chef, "what restaurant do you work for" or "what do you cook" or "what is your specialty" (my fave!)
The best thing about being a chef is that there are SO many jobs and paths you can take and they don't have to be in traditional restaurants and they all still involve cooking and food.
By the way, I really don't miss it at all...maybe the grilled cheese!

[Jennifer]

PS Shuna,
Have fun with your desserts, let your joy in your cooking show through and what is supposed to happen will happen!

[meginAB]

I can sooo relate having taken the past 6 years off to be a mom. I worked catering and did desserts at local restaurants but you feel part of your identity is gone. That plus the under 6 crowd just calls me "Hannah's mom" or "Jack's mom" - identity #2. Both in school this year and plans of my own space... can't wait to see what's next. Be excited about what's around the next corner! (It will all work out for the best)

[OneRedmarble]

After they realize for the first time in their adult life that the do have a little hair on their for arms... In my 40's and after 6 months out of a kitchen it's the first time I have ever seen it. It's like baby hair.

[avocaboy]

Good luck!! (and if possible, have a good time while you're at it.) I'll be crossing my fingers for you.

[shuna fish lydon]

The comments are why I continue to blog. All these different voices, ideas, well wishings, reality checks-- thank you thank you thank you!

And Jennifer, it is so incredibly fabulous to have your voice here! I miss you and your food so much!! But I will gladly take your advice & inspiration any day. You have taught me so much already. xo

[Calichef]

I love to hate that, "What is your specialty," question, too! My jaw drops (although I tend to keep my mouth closed,) my head tilts down, and I just look at them over my glasses and say, "I *can* make anything. But my "specialty" as you call it, is whatever is currently in season."

Also, having gotten "off the train" myself about six years ago I am here to say that there IS life beyond the walls of the kitchen... and it's pretty nice out here.

It's wonderful to sit down at the end of the day and not be dead tired while still running all the petty criticisms through my head, too. That's probably why cooks have substance abuse problems-- to stop the criticisms in their heads. Being yelled at and told all the ways in which you don't measure up every day of your life sucks. And all because you toasted the damned almonds the same way you did yesterday and the day before, but today the chef wants them darker, or not so dark. And tomorrow he'll bitch at you because you did what he asked for yesterday. *shudder*

I don't miss it, I don't miss it at all. (I keep telling myself that and I'm hoping one day I'll believe it.)

[Raspil]

i'm in the middle of reading these posts but this is what struck the most with me (so far):

"eat a few meals in a row with utensils,"

wow. no kidding. where i work we have a menu of 60 items and (aside from our salads and desserts -- it's a little annoying to eat lettuce and creme brulee with your fingers) only 3 of our items require utensils. when i get off work at 1 in the morning, the only places open are Taco Cabana and Wendy's. i had to go to a nice neighborhood non-chain bar and grille a few weeks ago for a pint and a meatloaf dinner because i felt that if i didn't go to a place where i could be waited on and use a linen napkin SOON, i was going to royally freak out. it was bliss.

when i'm working 5-6 days in a row, i don't have time to take care of anything at the house that i need to (laundry, cleaning, etc) let alone continue with my education. i have to cook something more than what i get to cook at work which is rare because i'm usually working the Middle, shoving baskets lined with food out the window. i've been doing some reading and getting more advice from chefs about what i "should" know how to do well and i have to make a point of doing these things to remind myself i am a cook and not just a shoveller.

"DO NOT ASK US WHERE WE ARE WORKING."

i love talking about where i work. it's a place in Austin that everyone adores. i know that when i move to Vegas and start cooking it will be different:

"I work at Commander's Palace."
"Well, I work at Daniel Bouloud's Brasserie."
"Ugh. I work at Bouchon, commoner."

Fist fight ensues.
take care, keep up the momentum.

xo
Raspil