Starting in the Basement in NYC
Home on a weekend night from a high volume restaurant brunch, I am exhausted…. My legs are spaghetti after running up and down those stairs for a 450+ cover brunch. All I can do now is sit and try to stay awake whilst sipping a Kombucha vodka cocktail and fulfilling my nicotine craving (which I need and want to stop this new repeated addiction)… Finally sitting on my back terrace in Brooklyn, I am grateful to breathe and feel the warm spring air and be out of the basement prep kitchen and florescent lights. Grateful to hear my owl … Hooing in …..
In spite of my legs being in the state that can no longer help me rise from this chair, I love being there…. In that basement prep kitchen and those 10 hours on my feet without a break to sit or eat time did fly. And the mosquitoes that are now consuming my arms, reminding me of the harsh reality of life, were not there either. My blood is consumed in so many different ways.
Between the burns and now the bites.. My arms are quite a sight.
The sous-chefs are intense yet kind and work harder than most people I’ve ever known. The line cooks work their asses off and are amazing. No one working that line, or running that restaurant will accept mediocory … there is no good enough…. It’s either right or its not. I love that. Although brunches are not the time to get the most meticulously perfect meal, due to the volume and time crunch, the food is still excellent and the chefs stand by and up to their recent award win as Best New Restaurant in the Country.
As I sit, feeling like I’ve been run through the food mill and am simply a pile of mashed potatoes, I wonder if I will be able to live up to these standards. I today I was not fast enough. How do I get faster? Did I jump too soon into a super intense environment? Regardless, I’m not giving up.
Most people working the line, or in Prep- work in the kitchen, are not my age, but substantially younger. It can be hard and you need to be able to run up and down those stairs and stay on your feet for longer than I’m accustomed to. I’m young at heart, but wonder can my legs keep up..? Well, they will.
Yet home now, with the luxury of finally sitting, I realize my feet really hurt and cannot even contemplate ever again wearing the heels in my closet. So right now I’m loving my juicy couture sneakers. I really would love a pedicure….