party like a rockstar.

he was right there, just a few feet from me. who cares that i was still in my chef’s coat and funny checkered pants and that my hair was tied back? it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and i made up my mind.
“have a good night!” i shouted to him. [...]

thursday is my friday.

i think a lot about what we give up by choosing to cook. (and i say “we” just to try it out. enough of the me vs. them stuff. i cook, they we cook. end of story.) the pay is awful, the work is physically demanding, the heat is intense, and the [...]

a day in the knife.

one day. three knives. twelve hours. 169 covers for dinner.
chefs are required to provide their own knives. would a surgeon have a personal scalpel? would a baksetball player show up at MSG with his own ball? ahh, but a rock star does have his own guitar…a photographer has his own camera…and a [...]

a lexicon.

in the CS world steaks cost fifty dollars and it’s normal to shell out twenty for four thin slices of tuna.  in the CS world waiters are called servers and they don’t serve you your food.  in CS servers take your order, front waiters punch in your order, back waiters serve you, and runners…well, they [...]

shallots.

i like routines. you know it, i know it.
every night i come home from work. i’m tired and i’m hungry. it’s 1am and the few green grapes i had on the train didn’t stave off my hunger. so i unlock the door to the house, put down my bag, and open [...]

dazed and confused.

there’s no crying in baseball the kitchen.  burn your hand, get a bandage.  cut your finger, find a band-aid.  stab yourself with an oyster knife, take a deep breathe and deal with it.
and so when i woke up this morning with all the tell-tale signs of a full-blown head cold i acted as a true [...]

discovered.

en route from subway–>kitchen i walk through the building that houses the food network headquarters.
it’s every girl’s dream to be discovered.  as a model.  as a rock star.  as a budding culinary genius…but not this girl’s.  i don’t want my own show.  or my own line of cookware or books.  i just want to cook.  [...]

clickety clique

the restaurant is like one huge venn diagram: lots of discrete circles with overlapping pieces one in awhile. let’s try to break it down…
first, the back of the house (read: those in white uniforms who prepare your food).
as you all know from ratatouille (great movie), the kitchen is an intricate web of hierarchical positions [...]

like clockwork.

routines ground me. call me predictable, sure. but i like the comfort and stability of having the same schedule, day in and day out.
every morning i wake up at 9.30. i put on my work-out clothes, grab the newspaper, and ready the headlines and key articles while munching on some puffins. [...]

you gotta see it…

let’s play a little game.  role playing.  here goes:
it’s 8:00 on a monday night and you have dinner reservations for 4 at my restaurant.  you show up a bit early; you’re still waiting for 2 people in your party.  you sit at the bar and glance over at the raw bar.  you see two young [...]