Introductions always seem pointless. I could be making everything up. I'm not, but you can't know that. Hopefully some of you will indulge my narrative.
I've been a line cook for 10 years. My first job in a kitchen was a dishwashing job at age 15. The pub where I worked had a very generous food discount for employees: 50% off everything while not working. However, while we were working, we were allowed to have anything we wanted, and as much of it as we wanted free - the catch was that we had to make it ourselves.
About 2 weeks into my job, I got bold enough to make myself a 9 oz fillet. My boss - who I suppose you could call a chef - took notice when I took the liberty of also starting a few new tickets that had come in. He let me finish them, showed me how to plate the food, and asked me if I wanted to learn how to cook. I did.
and here I am. I'm 25, I work at one of the most financially successful (though I can't imagine how) chains in the country (I'm from the U.S.A). I'm not proud to work at a chain, especially this chain. More on that in another post.
I wanted to be a doctor. Straight out of high school I started in a rigorous biochemistry program - you know, instead of a relaxed biochemistry program - and four weeks in I realized I hated chemistry. I still wish I could go to medical school. But I supported myself in college while working in restaurants. Relatively okay pay, hours compatible with classes, you get the point.
I really love to cook. It's a disappointment, then, that I live in a beautiful suburban apartment with a tiny galley kitchen. I mean tiny. I get by, I'm used to a cramped line. But holy hell. If I'm cooking and my beagle wanders into the kitchen, I have to call the fire department because we'll be stuck forever. That small.
Before you call the hyperbole police, please note that I obtained that exaggeration legally. double hyperbole! boom.
Hi everyone. I'm excited to be a part of this community. I'm excited to learn how to management my space better, learn more about proper culinary technique, share recipes, and other assorted culinary hijinks.