So I arrived from work with a suitcase. Yes I had a big red suitcase–it is too much to drag all that crap with you all the time, you know. Only the day before I had announced that I was leaving my job so it was funky I was walking around with a suitcase. Someone asked where I was going away to? HA HA HA
I arrived at the restaurant off the main road, with carpet and then a tavern inside and some of society’s women. 🙂 In the back was a formal dining room with white table cloth. On the right was a pizza oven with 3 gentlemen, ready to do who knows what.
A nice guy (a little malnourished looking) took me to the back and then down stairs. It was a maze. There was a large prep area where I am still able to walk through in my street cloths. He starts introducing me to everyone. I must have shaken the hand of half a dozen people. I even went into a walk-in fridge and found myself face to face with a whole pig, being drained–for the record, it was not gross. They had even named him. Fricken Amazing!!
Later I changed in a girl’s locker room. The last two places I had been were not so clean looking and stuffy–I almost did not want to take my clothes off. I met a guy named Aviatar==Aveeyatarr. He was Middle Eastern looking. He was a little high strung but mostly calm. He planted me in a corner, more like a causeway. I would say the whole kitchen comes together at this point. The Garde Manger was to the south of me, the waiter station to the right of me, to the farthest right of me were the dish washing guys and to the front was Aviatar-yelling out commands.
So one of the brave souls asked me to help cut some herbs–large ass herbs I might add, and they provided me with the knife. It was a large bowl so I realized this could be the start of a ton of tasks for the night. I took the knife and started cutting and magically sliced off piece of my nail and the side tip of my fingernail–yup, I did it. I saw my finger tip, it was like a piece of onion and then I saw the nail. I was mortified with embarrassment. Picture this, I am on a trail to get an externship and I get injured. So I did not make a large stir. I went over to the sink and a few guys come over to help me, then I went down stairs. (it was now about 6ish. i had arrive at 5:30 and got cut around 5:45.)
They sprayed my finger, which could not stop bleeding for a little while. We put alcohol on it, then medicine and then bandaged it up. I resumed my place back in the causeway. It was like a freak accident as I was asked to chop and my classmate had mentioned to me that on his trail he just stood in the causeway and tasted and observed. I stood there the rest of the night and occasionally they would give me samples of the dishes. I had about 6 dishes and 90% were things I would order. The only thing I would not order it the tomato soup in a cup–bitter. I ate till right before full. I even turned down dessert and I love dessert.
At the end of the night I spoke with the chef Michael Anthony. He was surprisingly nice. It ended up that he would not be able to accommodate me till the end of the year at least. (someone later said that this was a nice way of saying–hell no biatch) He did say to keep in touch about what eventually happens, also what happens to my finger) He told me to email as soon as I have my finger looked at. They call this growing pains.
Watch your digits. They have a finger protector–seriously thinking about investing in one of those soon.
Ciao for now.