For those of who who don't know, money has been extremely tight for Brian and me this summer. There was the wedding, my hours being cut at Stool Pigeons, new job, car problems, and high gas prices. All made me think about a return to ramen noodles. Thankfully, it hasn't reached that point, but you get the idea. We have been broke.
We decided to withdrawal some money from Brian's retirement to help pay for my classes and get caught up on some bills. We filled out all the paperwork. Apparently, Brian's bosses have to approve any withdrawals. Don't know why. We're grown-ups, and it's our money. But whatever. Yesterday, Lin and Oren came to Brian to talk about this. They disapproved the request, saying it was not wise to take money out based on taxes and the like.
Instead, they are giving him a bonus on this Friday's paycheck equivalent to the cost of my tuition. This bonus is above, beyond, and in addition to the performance-based bonus the whole company might receive in October. I cried. This is a huge weight off of our shoulders. My husband must really be valuable to Brown Greer for them to offer us help like this. And I've never met either of them. Their generosity is overwhelming. And it only makes me believe even more that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing in culinary school.
What's even more ironic is that this news came ten minutes before my last training shift at The Hard Shell. It was my kitchen shift. Our chef, Matt, has worked all over Richmond. Most notably at Lemaire in the Jefferson Hotel. The executive chef there is Walter Bundy, who has worked with Thomas Keller. Those of who who don't know who he is, Google him. Long story short, my chef has run with the big boys. The really big boys. And some how, Matt knew as soon as I walked into the kitchen yesterday that I will be going to culinary school in August. How? I don't know. We'll get to why this is important in a minute.
Chef walked me through every inch of that kitchen. What is in the leek creme fraiche, the difference between the Chesapeake and Blue Point Oysters, the fried plantains, all the sauces and dressings, how he comes up with the nightly specials, and on and on and on. All the while, he's turning out course after course of yummy looking food. Every time he makes a dish, he throws on an extra piece for me to taste.
I think most of you know how I feel about seafood. I want to like it. Honest. I just haven't really liked anything that I've ever tried. Since I started working there, I've made an effort to be open minded about seafood. My theory is, if anyone can turn me on to it, this will be the place. Nothing is frozen. Everything is from scratch. I will develop a taste for it here, or never. Let's go back to the chef knowing I want to be a chef. This means I must eat without fear. I must eat like a chef. What's the first thing he makes me taste?
Calamari.
Are you kidding me? Can we start out easy? Maybe a scallop or some fresh tuna? You really want me to put squid in my mouth? All the guys are watching me. I have to eat it. I HAVE to eat it! "Here, try it with the sauce," he says. I count to three. I dip it in the sauce. I put it in my mouth. I put the chewy, chewy squid in my mouth. And chew. And chew. They laugh. "What do you think?" I'm still chewing. Swallow. The taste isn't bad, but that texture is not OK. Chef reassures me that it's not for everyone. Up next?
Fried oysters.
Come on! Are you trying to break me? Mind you, I haven't told him that I don't like seafood. I've only said that I haven't eaten a lot of it. I stare at it. He gives me some sauce. I dip. I get ready to take a bite, and he says, "Don't bite it in half. You have to eat it all at once." Ew. You know what? Not bad. Not great, but not bad. The night continued on like this. I had scallops, tuna, salmon (yum), ribs, potato croquettes, lobster bisque, she crab soup, and Alaskan king crab. It was amazing. Not only (some of) the food, but just watching him.
One of the specials for the evening was a scallop pasta. Six scallops, seared to a beautiful brown on top of linguine tossed with artichokes, roasted tomatoes, and garlic with a leek cream/white wine sauce. I watched him make it, watched him sear the scallops, deglaze the pan with wine (which makes big, fun flames) and toss all that stuff together. He finished it and I said, "I need that in my life."
He kept asking me if I had any questions. I really couldn't think of any. I was just in awe. And full of gratitude. Thankful to be standing there. Thankful to be working in a place where food is what's important. Thankful that I'm allowed to be in the kitchen for two short hours. Thankful that my husband's hard work has been noticed by his bosses. Thankful that I have a husband who is fully supportive of my dreams. Thankful for my time managing at Stool Pigeons, which allowed me to discover that THIS is what I want to do. Thankful that I had the guts to apply for a new job and go back to school. Just all around grateful to be heading, finally, towards something that feels good and right and honest and true. I have no more words. This feeling is bigger than language.
"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity.... It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."
~Melodie Beattie
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
New job, new outlook
I can't tell you how lovely it is to work at The Hard Shell. It's a completely different atmosphere. People visit for the food. We are conisistantly rated the top seafood restaurant in Richmond. They don't visit to drink whatever is on special, or to eat what's cheap during happy hour. They come because the food is amazing (I just might have to start eating seafood).
Case in point...This evening, the section I worked was empty for the majority of the evening. Every table ordered, at least, an appetizer, entree, and drink. Average ticket was $175. Average ticket at Stool Pigeons...$30. Welcome to a whole new world, Kelly Sue.
We close at 11 on the weekends. I'm home, typing this, at midnight. Stoolies is still open, and right now the kitchen is slammed with orders for chicken wings "fried hard, shorty, and can I get a Strong Island?" They have two more hours of this to go before last call, and another three hours after that before they leave.
Everyone I work with is passionate and knowledgeable about food. Every guest is excited to be there. Every employee is there to help everyone else. I am on day two of my new job. And I am in love. So much so that I will give you this....http://www.thehardshell.com. Check it out.
And by the way, the WOMAN CHEF that started (and is part owner) also graduated from the school I start in August. I met her Thursday. The staff seems to dislike her. I, on the other hand, am in awe of what she's accomplished. Google "Richmond Restaurant Group" if you are curious. We are not her only restaurant. I am where I need to be. I am where I want to be. I am excited, encouraged, and home. And it feels great!
On a different note... new favorite wine. Whitehaven Sauvignon Blanc. Not to sweet, not too dry. It's from New Zealand. Don't be put off by the screw cap. Lots of vineyards are moving towards these for various reasons. Let's talk flavors....YUMMY! Check it out. I refuse to be a wine snob and write about "finishes, and hints of grapefruit," and all that jazz. It's good. Try it.
"The wines that one best remembers are not necessarily the finest that one has ever tasted, and the highest quality may fail to delight so much as some far more humble beverage drunk in more favorable surroundings."
H. Warner Allen
(From the wine list of Commander's Palace in New Orleans, LA courtesy of John McDonald, Dallas, TX)
Case in point...This evening, the section I worked was empty for the majority of the evening. Every table ordered, at least, an appetizer, entree, and drink. Average ticket was $175. Average ticket at Stool Pigeons...$30. Welcome to a whole new world, Kelly Sue.
We close at 11 on the weekends. I'm home, typing this, at midnight. Stoolies is still open, and right now the kitchen is slammed with orders for chicken wings "fried hard, shorty, and can I get a Strong Island?" They have two more hours of this to go before last call, and another three hours after that before they leave.
Everyone I work with is passionate and knowledgeable about food. Every guest is excited to be there. Every employee is there to help everyone else. I am on day two of my new job. And I am in love. So much so that I will give you this....http://www.thehardshell.com. Check it out.
And by the way, the WOMAN CHEF that started (and is part owner) also graduated from the school I start in August. I met her Thursday. The staff seems to dislike her. I, on the other hand, am in awe of what she's accomplished. Google "Richmond Restaurant Group" if you are curious. We are not her only restaurant. I am where I need to be. I am where I want to be. I am excited, encouraged, and home. And it feels great!
On a different note... new favorite wine. Whitehaven Sauvignon Blanc. Not to sweet, not too dry. It's from New Zealand. Don't be put off by the screw cap. Lots of vineyards are moving towards these for various reasons. Let's talk flavors....YUMMY! Check it out. I refuse to be a wine snob and write about "finishes, and hints of grapefruit," and all that jazz. It's good. Try it.
"The wines that one best remembers are not necessarily the finest that one has ever tasted, and the highest quality may fail to delight so much as some far more humble beverage drunk in more favorable surroundings."
H. Warner Allen
Thursday, July 17, 2008
New job?
I've told you all about my boss' less-than perfect behavior, and the crazy rumor mill that is Stool Pigeons. Two days ago, I came into work and said hello to Frank. He was very curt in his response. He immediately asked if he could have a word with me.
Frank then told me there was a nasty rumor going around that I had taken pictures of his parking lot with my phone. Which I have not, and would not, because this thing will reveal itself. He said he couldn't believe that I would do that to him, given how "generous I've been with you, being patient while you figured out what you wanted to do." Also that it would be very disrespectful and what he does is HIS business and no one else's. There was something in his tone and body language that was very, very threatening. I simply told him that I hadn't taken pictures. He then said I needed to find out who was spreading this rumor and address them. Here's the deal....
That rumor isn't about ME. And I really don't care who's spreading it, or who it gets to. Because I didn't do anything wrong. If there was no truth to it, you wouldn't have threatening conversations with me, and Maria wouldn't have to put in her two weeks. I don't know who told or how. I don't care. And I'm not going to be threatened by you. I lost what little respect I had for him the moment we had that last conversation. Worked with Maria last night and she completely ignored me.
My resume is all over downtown Richmond. I got a call back from The Hard Shell yesterday. A girl I used to work with is now a manager there, so I think I might start training next week. Just have to wait to do the interview with the general manager when he gets back from vacation.
I really, really want to address this situation with Matt, our district manager. I honestly feel threatened. Frank has no right to imply that I've not been a valuable employee. The fact of the matter is, I've worked NUMEROUS hours for them without clocking in, so that he doesn't have to pay overtime. Illegal and stupid on my part. I'm also the only other person besides him who understands that restaurant. I could and have managed the bar, the servers, and the kitchen. I've stayed even after he called me "the worst of his managers" in front of other employees. I've stayed after he left his evaluation sitting out on the desk in the office over a long weekend. The first line of that evaluation said "I have to say I'm surprised and disappointed in the way things have worked out with Kelly." Any one who went into the office could see it. I've worked every holiday without complaint. I rarely request off. And he threatens me???? Suggesting that I basically owe my experience to HIM and should shut up because of it??? I don't know how to address this situation, but I've found myself in a hostile work environment.
My hours have been cut in half. All this right before I have to pay my tuition. How lovely. I can't quit until I have another job. I don't want to be the one to bear this responsibility, but I feel like I have to now. Any and all advice welcome.
Frank then told me there was a nasty rumor going around that I had taken pictures of his parking lot with my phone. Which I have not, and would not, because this thing will reveal itself. He said he couldn't believe that I would do that to him, given how "generous I've been with you, being patient while you figured out what you wanted to do." Also that it would be very disrespectful and what he does is HIS business and no one else's. There was something in his tone and body language that was very, very threatening. I simply told him that I hadn't taken pictures. He then said I needed to find out who was spreading this rumor and address them. Here's the deal....
That rumor isn't about ME. And I really don't care who's spreading it, or who it gets to. Because I didn't do anything wrong. If there was no truth to it, you wouldn't have threatening conversations with me, and Maria wouldn't have to put in her two weeks. I don't know who told or how. I don't care. And I'm not going to be threatened by you. I lost what little respect I had for him the moment we had that last conversation. Worked with Maria last night and she completely ignored me.
My resume is all over downtown Richmond. I got a call back from The Hard Shell yesterday. A girl I used to work with is now a manager there, so I think I might start training next week. Just have to wait to do the interview with the general manager when he gets back from vacation.
I really, really want to address this situation with Matt, our district manager. I honestly feel threatened. Frank has no right to imply that I've not been a valuable employee. The fact of the matter is, I've worked NUMEROUS hours for them without clocking in, so that he doesn't have to pay overtime. Illegal and stupid on my part. I'm also the only other person besides him who understands that restaurant. I could and have managed the bar, the servers, and the kitchen. I've stayed even after he called me "the worst of his managers" in front of other employees. I've stayed after he left his evaluation sitting out on the desk in the office over a long weekend. The first line of that evaluation said "I have to say I'm surprised and disappointed in the way things have worked out with Kelly." Any one who went into the office could see it. I've worked every holiday without complaint. I rarely request off. And he threatens me???? Suggesting that I basically owe my experience to HIM and should shut up because of it??? I don't know how to address this situation, but I've found myself in a hostile work environment.
My hours have been cut in half. All this right before I have to pay my tuition. How lovely. I can't quit until I have another job. I don't want to be the one to bear this responsibility, but I feel like I have to now. Any and all advice welcome.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
My husband has just given me reason to believe we need another TV. I've adamantly opposed the idea since we moved in together. I don't want it to turn into us constantly watching different things in separate rooms. Surely we can find something both of us can enjoy. Then again, my husband watches sports.
It doesn't matter what it is. Football reigns supreme, followed by baseball and basketball, followed by any other sporting event that is not soccer. He'll even watch golf. He's currently sitting in the recliner with a beer, telling our television how to play baseball. It's rare that we have a Sunday off together. I'm reminded of why. Sunday is the day of sports. The reason we fought so much when we first started dating until I had an epiphany and started working Sundays. But I don't like to work on Sundays. I like to go to brunch. I like to read the newspaper (NY Times, all of it). Who wants to work on Sundays? No one. All that being said, I just decided that I will see what is coming on on the Food Network once the baseball game is over. And the TV will be mine. He can watch with me or not. I don't care. I want to watch food.
Anyone with advice on this is welcome to leave comments. How to engage husband in conversation when sports are on. Find a hobby? I'm making rosemary cheese bread right now. Time consuming, but the dough has to rise. So then what? Blog! I can only type so much.
Let's see....what to type about?
Things I love right now (Kelly's favorite things for summer....aka...eat your heart out Oprah)
1-Old Crow Medicine Show. A new bluegrass band, and Brian happened to go to high school with one of the guys. We saw them play at the National. Awesome. Favorite song? "Wagon Wheel" or "Down Home Girl."
2-My wedding ring
3-the magnolia trees with big, fragrant white flowers on them
4-Fig Leaf and Cassis body wash, perfume, and lotion from Thyme's. Mandy is a sales rep for the company and is generous with her discount. Thanks Mandy!
5-Hanover Tomatoes from the farmer's market.
6-My husband, sports freak and all.
The timer's going off. That means my bread is done rising and needs to go in the oven. Hope everyone had a great weekend.
"It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato." ~Lewis Grizzard
It doesn't matter what it is. Football reigns supreme, followed by baseball and basketball, followed by any other sporting event that is not soccer. He'll even watch golf. He's currently sitting in the recliner with a beer, telling our television how to play baseball. It's rare that we have a Sunday off together. I'm reminded of why. Sunday is the day of sports. The reason we fought so much when we first started dating until I had an epiphany and started working Sundays. But I don't like to work on Sundays. I like to go to brunch. I like to read the newspaper (NY Times, all of it). Who wants to work on Sundays? No one. All that being said, I just decided that I will see what is coming on on the Food Network once the baseball game is over. And the TV will be mine. He can watch with me or not. I don't care. I want to watch food.
Anyone with advice on this is welcome to leave comments. How to engage husband in conversation when sports are on. Find a hobby? I'm making rosemary cheese bread right now. Time consuming, but the dough has to rise. So then what? Blog! I can only type so much.
Let's see....what to type about?
Things I love right now (Kelly's favorite things for summer....aka...eat your heart out Oprah)
1-Old Crow Medicine Show. A new bluegrass band, and Brian happened to go to high school with one of the guys. We saw them play at the National. Awesome. Favorite song? "Wagon Wheel" or "Down Home Girl."
2-My wedding ring
3-the magnolia trees with big, fragrant white flowers on them
4-Fig Leaf and Cassis body wash, perfume, and lotion from Thyme's. Mandy is a sales rep for the company and is generous with her discount. Thanks Mandy!
5-Hanover Tomatoes from the farmer's market.
6-My husband, sports freak and all.
The timer's going off. That means my bread is done rising and needs to go in the oven. Hope everyone had a great weekend.
"It's difficult to think anything but pleasant thoughts while eating a homegrown tomato." ~Lewis Grizzard
Saturday, July 12, 2008
My husband cooked dinner!
For those of you who know him, this is a big deal. He does not cook. Tonight, he made jerk chicken with mashed potatoes and corn. The chicken was perfectly cooked! I've thanked him over and over again. He insists that it was only good because I told him what to do. Who cares? It was great! My husband is awesome. We've been together over two years. This is the first time he's cooked me dinner. Mark the calendars! Alert the press! Brian cooked dinner.
I can't tell you how happy I am to be going to culinary school. I feel like, suddenly, it's OK to think about food. There's a freedom in it. I can sit on the sofa and wonder what to do with the left-over chicken from dinner tonight. I know that sounds strange. But, it always felt like an indulgence to think about food constantly. I mean to really, really think about it. For example, what do I have in the house that will complement the chicken that Brian made tonight? I want to make a chicken salad to show him how versatile cooking can be. Another example...What can I do with the bacon I bought? I'd like to make a quiche, and I have smoked Gouda, and will the Gouda work in a quiche, even though it doesn't melt well?
I met with my adviser Thursday afternoon. His office is literally covered in cookbooks. I could spend hours and hours, maybe even days, reading them. I got a glimpse of the classrooms. They're all heavy-duty mixers and steel. So exciting! I now have my permission numbers for registration (it's limited). He let me see the knives that will be available in the bookstore. I really think I want to get my own elsewhere. I don't want to drop $150 on mediocre knives, only to have to spend another couple hundred to get the really good knives. It's like buying a suit. You can buy something to get you through wedding season, or you can buy something to last you a lifetime. It's a Coach bag vs. Target bag. I'm sure you understand.
I'm going to address Zuppa for a moment. My co-worker worked there for a while. He said I should try it, since they make everything from scratch. Promised the food was great. So, I went. One o'clock on a busy Friday. I ordered the grilled cheese and a cup of gazpacho. It was a religious experience. Not only do they make their own soups, they make their own BREAD. They took grilled cheese to another level with fresh basil, tomato, mozzarella, prosciutto. Good lord! All of that on big, fat slices of toasted brioche. These people know what they're doing. I had to ask the server if they made their own bread. She confirmed my suspicions. As well as my theory....
You can put great product on crap bread and have an OK sandwich. You can put OK product on great bread and have a great sandwich. If you put stellar ingredients on outstanding bread, you have a toe-curling, mind-boggling experience. Note to self....drop off resume at Zuppa. I can learn something there.
That's all for now. No work tomorrow or Monday. That means plenty of time to find a new job. Because I can no longer stand the hypocrisy. Happy Saturday Night. I hope you wake up, and feel the need for brunch tomorrow morning. Make it yourself. It's better that way.
Peace.
I can't tell you how happy I am to be going to culinary school. I feel like, suddenly, it's OK to think about food. There's a freedom in it. I can sit on the sofa and wonder what to do with the left-over chicken from dinner tonight. I know that sounds strange. But, it always felt like an indulgence to think about food constantly. I mean to really, really think about it. For example, what do I have in the house that will complement the chicken that Brian made tonight? I want to make a chicken salad to show him how versatile cooking can be. Another example...What can I do with the bacon I bought? I'd like to make a quiche, and I have smoked Gouda, and will the Gouda work in a quiche, even though it doesn't melt well?
I met with my adviser Thursday afternoon. His office is literally covered in cookbooks. I could spend hours and hours, maybe even days, reading them. I got a glimpse of the classrooms. They're all heavy-duty mixers and steel. So exciting! I now have my permission numbers for registration (it's limited). He let me see the knives that will be available in the bookstore. I really think I want to get my own elsewhere. I don't want to drop $150 on mediocre knives, only to have to spend another couple hundred to get the really good knives. It's like buying a suit. You can buy something to get you through wedding season, or you can buy something to last you a lifetime. It's a Coach bag vs. Target bag. I'm sure you understand.
I'm going to address Zuppa for a moment. My co-worker worked there for a while. He said I should try it, since they make everything from scratch. Promised the food was great. So, I went. One o'clock on a busy Friday. I ordered the grilled cheese and a cup of gazpacho. It was a religious experience. Not only do they make their own soups, they make their own BREAD. They took grilled cheese to another level with fresh basil, tomato, mozzarella, prosciutto. Good lord! All of that on big, fat slices of toasted brioche. These people know what they're doing. I had to ask the server if they made their own bread. She confirmed my suspicions. As well as my theory....
You can put great product on crap bread and have an OK sandwich. You can put OK product on great bread and have a great sandwich. If you put stellar ingredients on outstanding bread, you have a toe-curling, mind-boggling experience. Note to self....drop off resume at Zuppa. I can learn something there.
That's all for now. No work tomorrow or Monday. That means plenty of time to find a new job. Because I can no longer stand the hypocrisy. Happy Saturday Night. I hope you wake up, and feel the need for brunch tomorrow morning. Make it yourself. It's better that way.
Peace.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Hypocrasy
About two months ago, I went into work at 8 am thinking that this was just another day managing at Stool Pigeons. Things changed rapidly. My general and district managers were standing at the end of the bar. They didn't even let me say, "good morning." We immediately sat down at a table, where they explained to me that Daiva, one of the other managers, was fired because she had a relationship with one one the cooks. It sucked. It was also nice to know that I worked for a company that followed the rules set forth by corporate office. We have fraternization rules for a reason.
Well, that was until two weeks ago. The same general manager that fired Daiva is BLATANTLY having a relationship with one of the servers. How do I know? It started with me noticing that the supervisor/employee interaction had changed between the two of them. She would stay at work until he got off, and vice versa. She went to the bank with him. And then, she just stopped caring what people thought. She's admitted that she's sleeping with him to several other employees. People keep asking me what's going on with the two of them. And he just moved into the apartment building right in front of mine. Her car was there at noon on Saturday. Her car was there when I went to work at 6 am this morning.
I know I shouldn't care. Grown ups can do what they want. BUT, when other employees are coming up to me and voicing their concerns, specifically citing the reason Daiva was fired...I have a serious moral problem with it. She makes her own schedule. She shows up late to work with no repercussions. And apparently, she's making $10 and hour, a figure WILDLY outside of the typical 2.13 an hour servers make.
I have no respect for either of them. This situation has changed the way I see the company as a whole. Is it up to me to say something to my district manager? Do I love Stool Pigeons so much that I will rat them out? Or, do I find a new job, put in my two weeks, and thank my blessings that I was able to work for a company that allowed me to hold so many positions in two years? I'm leaning towards the latter. If I mention that her car is at his apartment constantly, they both will know where that information came from. I'm the only other one that lives in this area.
I don't even want to work there anymore. I understand that drama is a part of the restaurant business, but this is over the line for me. And really, how much can I learn working there? I'm torn. All I know is my heart is no longer in the company. And that says a lot. I'll keep you posted.
Well, that was until two weeks ago. The same general manager that fired Daiva is BLATANTLY having a relationship with one of the servers. How do I know? It started with me noticing that the supervisor/employee interaction had changed between the two of them. She would stay at work until he got off, and vice versa. She went to the bank with him. And then, she just stopped caring what people thought. She's admitted that she's sleeping with him to several other employees. People keep asking me what's going on with the two of them. And he just moved into the apartment building right in front of mine. Her car was there at noon on Saturday. Her car was there when I went to work at 6 am this morning.
I know I shouldn't care. Grown ups can do what they want. BUT, when other employees are coming up to me and voicing their concerns, specifically citing the reason Daiva was fired...I have a serious moral problem with it. She makes her own schedule. She shows up late to work with no repercussions. And apparently, she's making $10 and hour, a figure WILDLY outside of the typical 2.13 an hour servers make.
I have no respect for either of them. This situation has changed the way I see the company as a whole. Is it up to me to say something to my district manager? Do I love Stool Pigeons so much that I will rat them out? Or, do I find a new job, put in my two weeks, and thank my blessings that I was able to work for a company that allowed me to hold so many positions in two years? I'm leaning towards the latter. If I mention that her car is at his apartment constantly, they both will know where that information came from. I'm the only other one that lives in this area.
I don't even want to work there anymore. I understand that drama is a part of the restaurant business, but this is over the line for me. And really, how much can I learn working there? I'm torn. All I know is my heart is no longer in the company. And that says a lot. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Gluttony
I made pie. Lemon Curd Pie. I saw it in Gourmet and had to try it. I was off on Tuesday, so that's what I did. And it was beautiful. The crust was perfect (it has almonds in it). I ate a slice after dinner on Tuesday. Brian refuses to eat it, by the way. Hates lemon. Freak of nature. Anywho.....I came home this afternoon, opened up the fridge to see what I should make for dinner, and there it was. Pie!
I cut myself a piece. Delicious. So delicious that I decided to have another. Why not? Brian won't eat any of it. Second piece was soooooo good. The third piece was fantastic as well. I don't know why I did it. It was just so damn good. Nice and cold when it's so hot outside. So that was my dinner this evening. Three pieces of pie. My tummy loves me right now. Gluttony is a sin for a reason. I have a pie hang-over. More on this later. While I was eating, I reminded myself of the Sex and the City episode where Miranda eats chocolate cake from her trash can.
Off of food for a moment. Brian's brother and his family are now officially in the continental US. They called and surprised everyone Monday evening. We went to his mom's house and hang out for a while. Kaylina has grown so much. We made tentative plans to go to a baseball game Tuesday evening. They were playing in Norfolk, and not Richmond. Everyone came over to our place. Matt brought beer. I attacked wine with a fury. Gluttony is a sin for a reason. Wine + hang-over + working in a kitchen at 8 am = need for easy dinner when you get home from work. Three pieces of pie is just as bad as four glasses of wine. Gluttony is a sin for a reason. I've stated my case.
Work was awful and wonderful today. We were VERY busy. I made so many orders of fish and chips (hung-over!) that I don't know how we had any left for the night crew. Order after order after order. It amuses me when people ask for extra tartar sauce. "Can have some more fat for my huge order of deep fried Pollock and french fries? And another Diet Pepsi, please." I won't go into too much detail on this. I'll just say.....gluttony is a sin. I had to remake one order of wings three times because they weren't "fried hard" enough for a table. They were in the grease for ten minutes the final time. How can wings cooked that long be enjoyable? Why not just order chicken tenders tossed in sauce? And don't people understand that even if I fry your wings so hard they turn into solid bricks, all that effort will be lost once I coat them in a vinegar-based SAUCE. It defies my comprehension. Those wings were the first thing I've cooked that was sent back. Wings. You kidding me? I make good wings. Lady needs to get a clue.
Brian's been working, working, working. I don't know how he does it. I would stab my eyeballs out with thumb tack if I had to sit at a desk for ten hours a day. Hopefully, everyone else that he works with has been doing the same thing so they can reach all the parameters for this bonus. I mean really. Momma needs a shopping spree. Or a house. That would work, too. Or how about just not being so stressed out about moo-la. Seriously though, it sucks that I'm not working so much now and he is. Go figure. I miss my husband.
Well, enough musings and rambling on for this evening. I'm going to try to put both of my hang overs to bed. Sleep is necessary. Night, y'all!
I cut myself a piece. Delicious. So delicious that I decided to have another. Why not? Brian won't eat any of it. Second piece was soooooo good. The third piece was fantastic as well. I don't know why I did it. It was just so damn good. Nice and cold when it's so hot outside. So that was my dinner this evening. Three pieces of pie. My tummy loves me right now. Gluttony is a sin for a reason. I have a pie hang-over. More on this later. While I was eating, I reminded myself of the Sex and the City episode where Miranda eats chocolate cake from her trash can.
Off of food for a moment. Brian's brother and his family are now officially in the continental US. They called and surprised everyone Monday evening. We went to his mom's house and hang out for a while. Kaylina has grown so much. We made tentative plans to go to a baseball game Tuesday evening. They were playing in Norfolk, and not Richmond. Everyone came over to our place. Matt brought beer. I attacked wine with a fury. Gluttony is a sin for a reason. Wine + hang-over + working in a kitchen at 8 am = need for easy dinner when you get home from work. Three pieces of pie is just as bad as four glasses of wine. Gluttony is a sin for a reason. I've stated my case.
Work was awful and wonderful today. We were VERY busy. I made so many orders of fish and chips (hung-over!) that I don't know how we had any left for the night crew. Order after order after order. It amuses me when people ask for extra tartar sauce. "Can have some more fat for my huge order of deep fried Pollock and french fries? And another Diet Pepsi, please." I won't go into too much detail on this. I'll just say.....gluttony is a sin. I had to remake one order of wings three times because they weren't "fried hard" enough for a table. They were in the grease for ten minutes the final time. How can wings cooked that long be enjoyable? Why not just order chicken tenders tossed in sauce? And don't people understand that even if I fry your wings so hard they turn into solid bricks, all that effort will be lost once I coat them in a vinegar-based SAUCE. It defies my comprehension. Those wings were the first thing I've cooked that was sent back. Wings. You kidding me? I make good wings. Lady needs to get a clue.
Brian's been working, working, working. I don't know how he does it. I would stab my eyeballs out with thumb tack if I had to sit at a desk for ten hours a day. Hopefully, everyone else that he works with has been doing the same thing so they can reach all the parameters for this bonus. I mean really. Momma needs a shopping spree. Or a house. That would work, too. Or how about just not being so stressed out about moo-la. Seriously though, it sucks that I'm not working so much now and he is. Go figure. I miss my husband.
Well, enough musings and rambling on for this evening. I'm going to try to put both of my hang overs to bed. Sleep is necessary. Night, y'all!
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