Thursday, October 8, 2009

No Complaining

A friend once told me, when I asked for feedback on my blog, that I should try to find a balance in between how I feel about my experiences in the kitchen and the factual aspects. If I did not misunderstand she basically wants less of "what I do" and more "how do I feel about what I do?" It is her opinion that sharing my point of view will make the blog more personable, more "mine" if you will, and less similar to the thousands of other kitchen blogs out there.

Until this morning I couldn't quite put my finger on why I would have trouble transforming my blog, even if I wanted to. The truth came while reading Ruhlman. I won't quote, but essentially he is exploring why complaining has no place in kitchens. In kitchens you don't complain, you quit. If you don't like cooking, you shouldn't be there. He compares complaining in a kitchen to one walking through the Sahara desert and complaining about how hot it is. Kitchens are known to be hard places to work in and most cooks have to have a mad streak for not only putting up with it, but loving it. If you don't like it or can't do it you're free to leave, someone else will gladly and quickly take your spot.

On a bad day I might rant about someone not pulling their weight but never about the fact that I've been cleaning calamari for over an hour and my fingers seem to be covered with this invisible film that I have to scrub off when I am done. I'll tell you all about how I've cleaned it but never about how I feel about the fact that I seem to be the only one cleaning it. I am not saying I don't have a complaining bone in my body because god knows I've complained aplenty when I worked as an insurance adjuster. I'm just saying that because I still love my kitchen complaining doesn't come as easily.

Now don't go searching through all the posts where I may have pointed a finger toward the Chef de Partie who I don't think knows where the mop bucket is located, or find my other minor grievances. The point is, and I don't want you to miss it, is that I still do not have a major complaint about the work that I do every day. I still look forward to putting on my white jacket and black pants, and even to being in there for long hours, because half the time I don't realize how long it's been or how many salads, sandwiches, pastas or apps I've had to put together.

Today, as I prepare to go in for my 2 p.m shift I feel truly lucky.

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