Trust Me, It's Not a Glamorous Life.

I'm a terrible, inconsistent, unfaithful blogger, but here is my story.  I promised Vicki I'd write a blog entry on this because she wanted all the gory details.  So sorry if you've heard this before, but this is going to be unmercifully long.

"Now, this is the story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I became....(the fresh prince of a town called Bel-Air)"

Making the switch from working in an office setting to immersing myself in the intense world of a professional kitchen was one of the most difficult and rewarding experiences of my life.  It was 9 months of intensity and 3 months of hell.  My advice to people who are interested in going into the culinary world is this: before you quit your day job, contact a chef whose restaurant and work you admire and set up a stage, which is when you work at a restaurant for free for the experience (unless ofc they actually hire you, which is even better!)  Do yourself a favor and do this before applying to culinary school.  A lot of people who enroll in culinary school end up dropping out or not pursuing anything culinary after they've graduated.  Why?  Because working in a professional kitchen is intense, difficult, and requires long hours of standing on your feet and often doing very repetitive and physically strenuous work.   Guess what? You might not like it.  That's information you want before dropping 45-60K on a culinary education.

For nine months I continued to work as a paralegal while dishwashing 3-4 nights a week at the restaurant.  I was out the door everyday by 7:30 am, left work at 5 pm and immediately went to the restaurant to dishwash from 6 pm til close...anywhere between 1 am to after 2 am (sometimes 3 am) depending on how busy it was.  I remember one time, trudging through the snow on the way to my car at three in the morning at the end of a long night, the wind biting my cheeks, smelling smelly, and wondering, "What the hell am I doing with my life?"

However, dishwashing was a good experience for me because I’d never seen the inside of a professional kitchen before, and I got to learn how the system worked in the back of the house and just get used to the rhythm and physicality of the job.  Furthermore, dishwashers at the restaurant I was at were required to do a lot more than just wash dishes, pots, and pans all night.  When we came in, we had to start clearing out the dishpit for the night, clean the kitchen before service, and stock up all the cooks’ stations with salt, pepper, and oils.  In addition to nightly prep lists, we were also responsible for properly cooling, storing and putting away all stocks and cooked vegetables and proteins that had been sous vide-cooked during the day…and generally assisting all the line cooks in anyway possible throughout the night.  I also had the opportunity to jump on gardemanger on slow nights and learn how to plate cold apps and desserts.

After nine months of dishwashing, I was “promoted” to the position of daytime prepcook, a position I held for all of three months.  In those three months, however, I became proficient at prepping, seasoning, vacuum sealing (cryo-vaccing), and sous vide cooking a high volume and variety vegetables and protein.  I learned more about how to make and take care of stocks (keep it at a simmer and skim skim skim!)…the foundation of all the sauces made in the restaurant.  I learned how to make brines for chicken, duck, pork belly, pig head, beef tongue, sweetbreads, fish, and scallops.  I helped confit chicken thighs, duck legs, beef tongue, duck chachas (testicles), and duck tongue.  I put helped wash and put away the produce and maintain the walk-in along with checking in and putting away all the protein in the meat fridge.  I learned a lot, and I gained invaluable experience.

Unfortunately, at the end of every day, I left feeling a little worse than I had the day before.  At the time I couldn’t really put my finger on it, other than I seemed to get yelled at by everyone somehow no matter how well I completed my tasks that day.  There was also a lot of miscommunication in the prep kitchen as we were still adjusting to the switch from a small restaurant that could only seat about 40 people to one that seated over 100.  My direct manager often told me to prep incorrect amounts of things (12 bags of spinach, for example, when only 3-5 bags might be used) or prep the wrong things…which I would later get yelled at or reprimanded for from the more senior cooks or sous chefs.

I’m a tough girl.  The most difficult part of dishwashing was simply the fact that I was working 70-80 hours a week.  It was simply physically draining.  But other than that, the experience was enjoyable.  I got my hands on a lot of produce, learned how to work and move faster and the importance of making it happen.  I also learned something about camaraderie and teamwork.  I'm also proud to report that my arms and forearms in particular became ripped.  (They have since gotten less muscular.)

Prepcooking was difficult in an entirely different way.  I was only working 40+ hours a week.  It was also less consistently strenuous…the only times I was physically worn out was on meat days when I had to haul 3-4 10 Liter buckets of 100 brined chicken breasts..or when I was putting away big meat orders.  What made is so much more difficult was how emotionally and psychologically draining it was to feel like nothing I did was ever good enough.  It got so bad for me that the week before I was laid off, I was convinced I was going to be fired.  I knew a job posting had been put up for my exact position, although I wasn’t sure if they were just adding to the team or replacing me.   When my coworker and fellow prepcook finally said something to me at the end our day about how it seemed like everyone had a problem with me, I began to lose it.  Because clearly this wasn’t just in my head…it was noticeable to other people.  I left the work feeling like shit and was in tears on the T ride home.  I’ve never done that before.  I’ve never needed to cry at work before either.  I’m a tough girl, but I had reached my limit.

Luckily, things weren’t quite as dire as I had thought.  I wasn’t fired.  I was laid off.  And assured that I would receive a good reference from the chef.

After I was laid off, I was in shambles.  I had quit my paralegal job at the law firm I had been working in for three years so I could pursue cooking full time and also so I could transition from dishwasher to daytime prepcook.  I had been planning on leaving the law firm after two years to pursue my culinary dreams, but the chef told me not to do that just yet, so I ended up working an extra year as a paralegal while dishwashing. 

What was I going to do now?  I didn’t know if I wanted to continue working in a professional kitchen.  I didn’t know if I even had what it took to hack it in this industry even if I wanted to.  For the next year, I remained unemployed and confused about what direction to go in.  I had a word document open with my resume with rough bullet points of what my responsibilities at the restaurant had been and an extremely rough draft of a cover letter where I began to tell my story of how I got from A to…B?  I wasn’t sure.  I wasn’t really sure about what I had gained from this experience or where it had taken me or would take me.  For the next year, I avoided opening that word document as much as I could.

It took some time for me to rediscover my joy in cooking again…and to actually begin cooking again.  I was so tired and drained that while I was working at the restaurant, I barely cooked.  It took even more time for me to stop being afraid and paralyzed so I could take the plunge again and try my luck at another restaurant.
 
Ironically, the job posting that got me off my ass was a grill cook position at a busy café that only served breakfast and lunch.  I thought to myself, “Hey, you actually have a chance of getting this job!” versus all the job postings for line cooks with 5 years of experience or culinary school degrees.  I also applied to 5 other jobs in more high end restaurants.  What the hell right! I was on a roll.   I was getting ready to send out applications everyday for as long as it took to get another job.

What actually happened was that a chef of a French restaurant replied to my coverletter and resume within one hour of my emailing it to him.  I set up a stage to go in and trail a cook and work there through one dinner service 3 days later.  At the end of service, the chef spoke with me and offered me the position. 

I’m an entry level line cook on gardemanger station at a restaurant that I’m proud to work in.  I’m still learning and have a lot of work to do before I master my station, but I’m getting better every day.  The work environment is dramatically different than what I was used to from before.  In the best possible way. 

I now know that my experience at the first restaurant at my first job was not wasted.  It was a critical step I had to make in order to experience further growth.  It also gave me a strong work ethic and extremely high standards.  I got my ass kicked working there but I also learned the importance of working cleanly, neatly, being physically and mentally organized, and the importance of keeping my knife sharp every day.  I learned the importance of tasting everything.  I learned how the importance of seasoning and using salt.  I got to see the head chef execute his vision and how he ran his kitchen in order to achieve that vision.  I got to eat some really fucking good food and watch amazingly talented cooks and chefs in action.

But, I’m glad that I can put that experience behind me and move forward. I still have a long way to go and a lot to learn.

I can’t wait to see what the next few months and year brings.

(Also, taxpayers will be glad to know that I will no longer be receiving unemployment benefits. -.-) 

Peace.