Golly, where to start? Arsenal finished third in the league, by the skin of our teeth, but it means that the summer won't be quite as horrendous as it might have been. I'm sad that Bacary is injured again, and that there seems to be more of an issue with Jack's ankle, but still, hopefully both of them sitting out the Euros will mean they are in far better shape for the start of the season.
To be honest though, football is taking a backseat to my real life right now. Go figure. This new job? Holy shit, I'm really pretty damn good. Now, I did scorch some candied hazlenuts today, but on the flip, I fucking rocked a ridiculous meatball recipe (seriously, it was dictated to me in handfulls and "some" of ingredients) and then the coupe de gras: I fucking trimmed and portioned out a tenderloin mid-service, on the fly. Which means, I had no warning when chef looks across the line and says "YOU, you know how to trim a tenderloin?"
I say "It's been a really long time."
He says "Can you do it now?"
I say, of course, because it's ingrained in me via CG: yes chef.
He says set up a station: there are two in there, but I need one now. NOW.
Let me just take a moment and say that the only times I have ever trimmed a fucking tenderloin of beef (one of the most expensive items a restaurant can buy, it's where your filet steaks come from) has been at 2pm, hours before service, when I've got no other prep and the line needs an extra pair of hands.
However, the fucking crazy ass intensity of a certain ChefGuy clearly made and impression. It literally has been over 6 years since I'd done this job, but dammit, it came back. And, given the remarks made by Garrett, I did pretty fucking ok. Then he asked me to portion it. Now, see, here's the thing about portioning a piece of meat: it's about a foot and a half long, it is about 4 inches wide at it's widest and then tapers gradually to the tail. When cutting it into 8oz pieces the first cut is crucial, and I should have started from the back. Oh well. Ultimately, I only wasted one, and we can do a tartare with it, but not fucking bad for a pastry chef. I was over the fucking moon. When Garrett came back and said, it looked fine, no more trimming (he did give me shit about using my chef's knife, but fuck, I didn't have my filet and didn't see a house one) and asked point blank:
"When was the last time you did that?" I said, probably about 2006 or so (probably earlier, but i don't need him to know that) and he was like "Really nice work."
They let me cut out early because it was slow, which is ok for now. The plan is for me to solo on Monday. I fucking cannot wait. Seriously. I love my work. It is so nice to be genuinely good at something, and to be among people who are on the same page. There are little things, but it is so amazingly similar to Upstairs that I can barely contain myself most moments. The waitsaff is actually better, but it's so amazingly good.
Oh. I forgot, there was one thing today: Seattle drivers suck. A lot. I had no idea how spoiled I was living in California. Sweet mother of kevin seconds, what a mess. Almost got squashed like a bug in a pileup today, but luckily guided the trusty Punk Rock soccer mom car to the edge of the road and around the idiot in the BMW.

Also, really, really miss Hopey right now. 

It's a done deal, I have a new culinary home with a lot of potential. I also got a job way sooner than anticipated, which means I should be able to move out of the brother's space way sooner than expected as well. Already have my eye on a place that lives in my personal history and is within walking distance of the job. That would be cool. Let's just hope the building isn't crawling with skinheads anymore. Beyond that, lots of connecting with pals who know me. Who love me. Who genuinely care about how I feel, what I'm interested in, and what I'm passionate about. I like knowing people, and I like people knowing me, which is a huge emotional shift in my personal being, but a welcome one. I want to share with smrge, but he is choosing not to be involved now, and so, I go on, doing what I do, following the path I've chosen, and waiting to discover where it will lead me. Talked to Karen today, and as always, a good, grounding conversation, and soon, K2 will be here and visit my new place. I can't wait for them to be sitting in my home restaurant again, and to send them food and to introduce them to the house. I am so amazingly grateful to have them in my life. I really love Seattle so much. Being down in Pioneer Square last night, was fantastic, seeing my friend's business come to life, hanging out with people I have decades of history with. This city is in my bloodstream and I can't wait for next season and to watch footy here, to meet new Gooners, to live this life I have, no matter what the rollercoaster brings. Ya gotta love 'em, your fucking friends....

back of the house

...there are few things that have been more satisfying in my life than walking into a new kitchen and killing it. I'm still waiting for the final job offer, but going in on Saturday to Branzino, a small high-end rustic Italian place that does a lot of seafood and seasonal pizzas I was full on nervous. It's been four years since I was on a real line of any kind, and I had told Chef Garrett that from the get-go. He appreciated the honesty, and invited me in that evening to trail (also known as a "stage"). I got a raft of good wishes from pals, even CG told me I'd do fine, and I did. Sure, I noticed every frigging thing I dropped (a hunk of cheese, my sharpie, whipped cream....) and when I scorched the side of a pizza (I have never used an actual open hearth pizza oven, it was crazy intense, but fun) I wanted to die. It's a small kitchen, in both in space and in staff. What it reminded me most of was that First Kitchen I was in with CG, where we had a lot more space, but the same amount of staff, and the same passion for the food, and the best quality product as well. Additionally, one of my goals this time around was to get back in a kitchen where the actual chef is there every night cooking. The station I would work would be right beside him, and when I missed an element (I forgot the lemon wedge on a ceasar) he was completely matter of fact, not rude, not condescending. His rapport with his team seems friendly, but respectful, and they all are committed to turning out great stuff.
The big challenge was the pizzas, which is ironic, since it's something I actually do on my own time frequently. He had asked if I had experience and I said doing small lunch-pizzas, but never with an oven, but was pretty sure my comfort level with working with dough and knowing how elements work together, it would simply be a matter of getting the muscle memory of pulling the dough and the timing of the cooking. I sweated it, but at the end of the night, when we sat to discuss, and he told me that he was impressed with how well I did with the pizzas in particular, I was flying. So frigging happy. Because of course, I had focused on every little thing I didn't get right...I really do love this job and it's immediacy. I like that it's like a performance every night when you work in a live restaurant, and it felt so good to be in a position that was familiar to me: pastry and pantry, starting the people off, and being the finale as well - it's where I am most comfortable, and this spot is probably as close to perfect as I could walk into after being so long out of the kitchen.
On top of the comfort level of the kitchen, and affinity for the food (I had the beet salad locked in after one go, because, after all, it was beaten into me by David and Sharon years ago: respect the beets) there was the front of the house. It's always a sketchy thing in a small kitchen, but all the waitstaff seemed smart, confident, and interested in the food and wine they were presenting. It's huge for me, after being spoiled with fantastic servers at 5 and Lantana, and then dealing with college student hacks at Pangea. They were all really welcoming as well, and one of the owners was even bartending that night (though I didn't know he was an owner until the chef told me later, which speaks volumes. You never find owners who aren't chefs working in their restaurants, and certainly to find one who doesn't immediately point himself out to you as "owner" is even more rare). When I sat to have my shift meal (a pasta carbonara with duck - chefs choice, and Garrett also sent me a seared scallop, perfectly cooked) and realized I should order wine, but was confounded with the enormous wine list - I was ably guided by one of the lead waitstaff through tasting 4 different white wines - something I would have never thought to do, and honestly quite enjoyed. I knew i liked the odd pinot grigio, but to be able to sample so many, with such a great dish of food - so wonderful and reflects their overall approach to dining.
I also was pleasantly surprised by how, even though I had butterflies, once I put on that jacket and stepped on the line, my head went into the Zone. I have never known that sort of focus in any other facet of my life, and to immediately know what to look for and that the mental notes of what I would tweak in the station once it was mine was like putting on your favorite hoodie. I have yet to find words to describe how happy and proud I am when I am in a good kitchen, where ultimately what I do, how I work, and how much care I take matter more than my haircut, my makeup, my shoes.
Don't get me wrong: my shoes matter. I'm glad I had my prized Birkis again, Crocs reek of newbie.
Anyway, I left that night on Cloud 9, and even if for some reason the gig doesn't happen (though he even said that he was happy to get me "before anyone else hired you") because he was going to talk to one other person, the feeling of being offered the job, of having them recognize my dedication, and of being able to step into a kitchen and at least do a couple of plates without flinching and step up to a new task (pizza oven!) was worth it. It's why you do a stage. Sure, I only got paid in food and attagirls, but for me, its what I love - if I didn't have to pay for things like rent and cars and the like, I'd gladly do this job for free, just to be doing what I love.
Yeah. Additionally, it keeps my aching heart from overwhelming me....