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Simoom posted:Yeah! Two or three days out of the fridge and he said it was fine because bacon is so salty nothing bad can happen. I'm genuinely touched that someone else remembers that very trying time I vaguely remember reading this months ago and thinking how lucky you were. Now I'm thinking about how we leave our bacon bits out at room temp overnight...for three days. But hey, it's usually plastic wrapped from 11PM-10AM so it's ok right? I hurt my boss's feeling today. Someone wanted bun on the side, he grabbed a bun with his bare hands. I took it out of his hand, threw it in the trash, changed my gloves and grabbed a fresh one. Maybe I've read the BFC Corporate thread too much, but I want to print "PLEASE DO THE NEEDFUL" in block letters and hang it up next to the State Health Dept. sign that talks about why you never allow bare hand contact with food.
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Aug 15, 2015 22:07
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...that's really silly and unnecessary.
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Aug 15, 2015 22:50
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Its been years since I've lost count of the spoiled produce I've kept from being sent out because I was able to feel texture differences in a berry or leaf I'd have otherwise missed if I were wearing a latex or nitrile glove. As long as he wasn't handling raw meat beforehand or something like that, I'm really not seeing the issue with handling a bun.
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Aug 15, 2015 23:14
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Nontrivial corollary: at the pace I need to set each day, if I were gloved up for 100% of that time my hands would have trench foot by the end of the week. Gloves are very important but you're making a clown of yourself if you're expecting a bun to be handled the same as raw chicken. This is very, very bad in your position because you are defining yourself as someone who needs to be worked around rather than worked with. Willie Tomg fucked around with this message at 23:22 on Aug 15, 2015 |
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Aug 15, 2015 23:18
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Vorenus posted:I vaguely remember reading this months ago and thinking how lucky you were. Now I'm thinking about how we leave our bacon bits out at room temp overnight...for three days. But hey, it's usually plastic wrapped from 11PM-10AM so it's ok right? Don't tell anyone, but our pancetta in the mac n chz is fully cooked and held at room temp FOR A WEEK. Also, lol at you throwing out that bun, I'd write your loving rear end up. You know health code is literally written for the absolute lowest common denominator, right? poo poo, I still can't easily vac bag fish because Texas is still using 2001 FDA food code. I had to apply for a loving variance. Bare hand contact isn't the end of the loving world, keep your hands reasonably clean, and don't cross contaminate. Stop being a shithead, and let your boss TOUCH THE BUNS.
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Aug 15, 2015 23:29
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Vorenus posted:I hurt my boss's feeling today. Someone wanted bun on the side, he grabbed a bun with his bare hands. I took it out of his hand, threw it in the trash, changed my gloves and grabbed a fresh one. Maybe I've read the BFC Corporate thread too much, but I want to print "PLEASE DO THE NEEDFUL" in block letters and hang it up next to the State Health Dept. sign that talks about why you never allow bare hand contact with food. You are 100% in the wrong.
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Aug 15, 2015 23:48
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Psychobabble posted:You are 100% in the wrong. Why is following State Code wrong?
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Aug 16, 2015 00:04
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motorocker posted:Why is following State Code wrong? Because you follow city health codes, not state. e; not to mention, states do not keep their food codes up to date. Many are still using 2001 guidelines, while the FDA publishes new guidelines every 2 years. e2: loving New Mexico and South Carolina are still using 1993 food code guidelines, that's pretty loving terrible. bet they aren't even required to sanitize work surfaces. Chef De Cuisinart fucked around with this message at 00:13 on Aug 16, 2015 |
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Aug 16, 2015 00:07
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Keep in mind that this guy is ok with raw poultry dripping on cooked meat, handles RTE food after 30+ minutes of rushing around doing various tasks/eating without washing his hands, and has set a dumpster on fire three times in as many months. He's a very friendly person, but he has a tendency to zone out and not pay attention to what he's doing; based on all of this I wouldn't want him touching anything if I were going to eat it and I don't think it's unreasonable for me to ensure the same for paying guests. If it were someone who is more attentive to what they've been/are doing, yeah no big deal. With this guy, I'm being paranoid but not entirely without reason.
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Aug 16, 2015 00:24
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Vorenus posted:Keep in mind that this guy is ok with raw poultry dripping on cooked meat, handles RTE food after 30+ minutes of rushing around doing various tasks/eating without washing his hands, and has set a dumpster on fire three times in as many months. He's a very friendly person, but he has a tendency to zone out and not pay attention to what he's doing; based on all of this I wouldn't want him touching anything if I were going to eat it and I don't think it's unreasonable for me to ensure the same for paying guests. If it were someone who is more attentive to what they've been/are doing, yeah no big deal. With this guy, I'm being paranoid but not entirely without reason. Okay, but if you pitch a fit over everything then nothing you do will be heard. You're gonna be the person who you gotta wait until they're not looking in order to touch the bread, or  , we'll have to go through that bullshit again.Management of anything anywhere is very much about picking battles and making priorities, and if you don't dial down the volume on the skin-contact-on-bread situation you won't ever be heard on the chicken-drippings-on-ready-to-eat situation. You're just gonna be someone who has to be ignored for anything to get done sometime today. This is setting aside the fact that barring bacterial force majeure, touching bread is fine. It's fine. It's okay.
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Aug 16, 2015 01:19
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Willie Tomg posted:Nontrivial corollary: at the pace I need to set each day, if I were gloved up for 100% of that time my hands would have trench foot by the end of the week. All i got from this is that if i give myself gangrene with a glove i will definitely get workers comp. Just gotta remember to do it to my non jackin hand and life will immediately improve.
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Aug 16, 2015 02:49
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Willie Tomg posted:Management of anything anywhere is very much about picking battles and making priorities If you keep thinking the right things, I'm not going to promote you, FYI. Apparently I am a Really Good Manager, because I do this. I literally don't know what I do at work anymore, I just try real hard like to make my associate's jobs as easy as I can. So I'm like, up for Promotions Or Something.
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Aug 16, 2015 03:10
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Chef De Cuisinart posted:e2: loving New Mexico and South Carolina are still using 1993 food code guidelines, that's pretty loving terrible. bet they aren't even required to sanitize work surfaces. I worked in south carolina for about 5 years. You are required to sanitize work surfaces. Thai food place in my hometown got closed down, though, for storing dry goods (flour, rice, etc) in old containers for cleaning chemicals with the tops chopped off -- I hope saving $20 bucks on dry goods containers was worth...losing your entire business? Myrtle beach is/was actually pretty cool because the paper usually runs a weekly article with the results of any serious health inspection infractions. We almost made it in there once when an inspector walked in and found one of our sous-in-trainings portioning noodles on an unsanitized surface, without an ice bath, without wearing gloves, and he was eating noodles when the dude walked in, that was like -20 points or whatever. Regarding gloves: I worked at a corner bakery once for about 6 hours. They weren't allowed to keep gloves at their stations because it would cause contamination, said the 3rd party company they have contracted to do periodic health inspections. You're also supposed to wash your hands and change your gloves in between preparing every single food item. The result of this is that nobody wears, or changes, their gloves or washes their hands because it is too much of a hassle to follow the rules. There's also one (1) singular saute pan in an establishment that supposedly serves hundreds of customers per day "fresh scrambled egg" sandwiches -- basically I am saying that if you eat at corner bakery in any part of your life you should seriously reconsider. There's a similar rule about keeping drinks with lids anywhere (literally anywhere) in the "kitchen", so instead of having safe/sane rules that people follow with some respect... they just dont drink for hours on end until someone says gently caress it and then suddenly there are opened cans of red bull sitting inches away from food that is actually being prepared. So, there should be some give and take. If your hands are dirty you don't touch buns, yeah, I get you there. Obviously you made the judgement call and given that you weren't immediately written up, you probably made the right one. But... don't turn into that guy. Personally I always wear and change my gloves but that's because I'm obsessive about not transferring oils or seasoning from one food onto the next and I usually need clean hands to plate things because I spent a lot of time on garde manger. It's faster to swap gloves and have a clean slate, also I don't like my hands getting dirty. Other people just wash their hands a lot, that's fine too. 12 rats tied together fucked around with this message at 06:10 on Aug 16, 2015 |
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Aug 16, 2015 05:34
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Simoom posted:All i got from this is that if i give myself gangrene with a glove i will definitely get workers comp. Just gotta remember to do it to my non jackin hand and life will immediately improve. Don't worry too much about which hand gets the Green Itch, gauze dressings are absorbent on both sides. Lotion promotes healing anyway. 
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Aug 16, 2015 06:24
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Vorenus posted:Keep in mind that this guy is ok with raw poultry dripping on cooked meat, handles RTE food after 30+ minutes of rushing around doing various tasks/eating without washing his hands, and has set a dumpster on fire three times in as many months. He's a very friendly person, but he has a tendency to zone out and not pay attention to what he's doing; based on all of this I wouldn't want him touching anything if I were going to eat it and I don't think it's unreasonable for me to ensure the same for paying guests. If it were someone who is more attentive to what they've been/are doing, yeah no big deal. With this guy, I'm being paranoid but not entirely without reason. yell at him for the poultry or actually dangerous poo poo then, don't act like a primadonna over literally just touching some bread I'm a nice guy and a food safety nut, but I'd have words about someone snatching a bread out my hands and foodwasting it into the garbage, wtf  at least have an adult reaction if you think it's appropriate to react - hint : taking something out of another person's hands is not an adult reaction.
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Aug 16, 2015 09:04
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Anyone hiring a level 2 somm or beverage director?
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Aug 16, 2015 09:46
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I'm not going to quote all of the responses for a huge wall of quotes, but thanks for the responses and honesty goons. My reaction was pretty extreme, and while I stand by my call re: guy touching food barehanded, I didn't handle it in a mature manner. vvvvv reworded to not use correct but repetitive ANGLEISH Vorenus fucked around with this message at 18:09 on Aug 16, 2015 |
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Aug 16, 2015 14:47
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*more mature. Less mature would be throwing a tantrum and leaving.
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Aug 16, 2015 16:07
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As I was unloading groceries earlier I accidentally shut the door partly on a can of soup. No obvious puncture, but it has a decent-sized dent in it. Do I need to remove it form the can and cook it RIGHT NOW or can I put it in the fridge and save it from the grasp of botulism?
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Aug 16, 2015 21:30
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I'm starting to worry about you.
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Aug 17, 2015 01:48
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Vorenus posted:As I was unloading groceries earlier I accidentally shut the door partly on a can of soup. No obvious puncture, but it has a decent-sized dent in it. Do I need to remove it form the can and cook it RIGHT NOW or can I put it in the fridge and save it from the grasp of botulism? lol you've got a good gimmick, subtle, I like it
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Aug 17, 2015 02:55
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I thought denting came from botulism not the other way around..?
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Aug 17, 2015 22:54
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I always thought it was either way. Botulism can cause dents but dents can cause tiny ruptures in the can that allow air in and cause botulism.
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Aug 17, 2015 23:21
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Vorenus posted:I always thought it was either way. Botulism can cause dents but dents can cause tiny ruptures in the can that allow air in and cause botulism. you should be more concerned about the tiny sharp shards of metal that often break loose internally when you dent a can. those tiny ruptures you're talking about can even happen in transit if a can is knocked around, little molecules of steel or aluminum break off and gets mixed in the food. they make little micro incisions on your esophageal lining, kind of like how goldschlager works to get you extra hosed up, except if you're eating food that came from a can you're likely doing this like basically once a week or something and its no laughing matter unlike goldschlager where its all in good fun, i mean you aren't eating goldschlager every day, at least I hope not! anyways there are links to cancer where these microincisions build up microscar tissue inside your throat and intestines and over time your body starts attacking itself with white blood cells and cemotyites and it can lead to really bad long term health issues. its best not to eat food from cans or drink sodas, if you want to play it safe with life anyways!
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Aug 17, 2015 23:50
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mindphlux posted:goldschlager works to get you extra hosed up gonna go get me some goldschlager, gonna get extra hosed up
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Aug 18, 2015 00:22
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Naelyan posted:gonna go get me some goldschlager, gonna get extra hosed up This, but unironically.
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Aug 18, 2015 00:50
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Speaking of cinnamon-flavored booze, what the gently caress is up with Fireball? Between the cart and the walk-up window we can't keep enough tiny bottles of that stuff in stock.
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Aug 18, 2015 03:21
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Republicans posted:Speaking of cinnamon-flavored booze, what the gently caress is up with Fireball? Between the cart and the walk-up window we can't keep enough tiny bottles of that stuff in stock. It's liquid candy that makes you drunk. The fact that it's utterly repugnant seems to have passed by most people without notice.
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Aug 18, 2015 03:55
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Republicans posted:Speaking of cinnamon-flavored booze, what the gently caress is up with Fireball? Between the cart and the walk-up window we can't keep enough tiny bottles of that stuff in stock. Buffalo Trace makes more money on fireball than any other whiskey they sell.
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Aug 18, 2015 04:19
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That exhausted moment when you're pulling a load of work clothes out of the dryer thinking "poo poo, I've gotta get this down to temp and I don't even have a loving ice bath set up."
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Aug 18, 2015 05:20
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Fireball is pretty much the go to now for cheap liquor shots at bars across the USA. It's not good by any means. But drat does it sell.
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Aug 18, 2015 06:53
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It replaced Jager.
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Aug 18, 2015 09:54
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well i think its been a tasteful enough interval since i've done this, so get those scrolling fingers ready Dear Livejournal: Tonight was as rough as a night as I've ever had. It was a mere nine and a half hours and only the back half of them really warranted mentioning but Jesus God, Almighty, did it ever rate. I have had services where the chef de cuisine was arrested walking around the corner. I have had services where the exec chef walked out of the property and his job and The Grid while getting avocados to mash for guac on the fly. I hear he lives on a boat now. I have had services which began with walking into my beloved boutique nose-to-tail localvore cafe in Bend to be greeted by an unfamiliar doughy Jewish man in a Hawaiian shirt, who clasped my hand with his--soft and yielding, like a high school sophomore at a frat party--and jovially exclaimed with a chuck on the shoulder that we take things a little more casually here and now as Jimmy Buffett joined Alan Jackson in the final reprise of "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere" on the stereo. Tonight rated with those services. There's a whole cast here, but sadly for the purposes of storytelling most of them are some pretty cool motherfuckers who showed up and did their jobs as best they could as good as was possible. To be among these folk is why I left schpronsy ~~Downtown Austin~~ for, uh.... not that. By the grace of their considerable effort I am alive now. It also helped that I got a weekend on the actual weekend so that helped on a lot of levels which was cool. There were two who stood out, the first of which is one of the most loathsome people it has ever been my misfortune not to be able to avoid meeting. I won't Name Names, obviously, but even if I did in this instance, you wouldn't believe me. Her actual, not-even-kidding-you-name-IRL, is so self-satirizing, so quintessentially and immaculately trashy, so godshitting hilarious, you wouldn't believe me for a second even if I told you. Christiffany is the second worst restaurant manager I have ever worked with in my life. The third worst was a fresh graduate from Tenessee State's hospitality program. She would wander past the pass tooting singsong poo poo in the pantomime of actual adult productivity, powerwalking nowhere in particular to do... nobody really knew. It's very good she didn't watch Venture Brothers, so she didn't realize we were ripping on her doing Helper impressions as she walked past. One day we sent her to the supply room for the Bacon Stretcher. She was gone for thirty-five minutes and came back upstairs pale and shaking saying she couldn't find the light switch. She was an observant Baptist in the hospitality sector in Texas, and my one regret about her tenure is that I wasn't at the manager's christmas party to see her unwrap the anal beads from her secret santa. The worst restaurant manager was an immacuately preserved 80-year-old Latino pawned off on us by a competing hotel, who looked like a salt and pepper Scottish Terrier learned to put on a very well fitted suit which, in all fairness, matched his coloring perfectly. With the help of some tactically applied scotch after an awful, awful, awful day I wrote a completely factual and uninflected email about his performance in moments of peak service, and after 48 hours--in order to double-check recaps and figures, etc--he was busted down from restaurant manager to Head Dishwasher. He was actually pretty good at it and looked a lot happier in his new position when I left. Christiffany is right between those two. Right now, you reading this, hold your nose. Now attempt to speak not from the diaphragm as if you were singing, not from your chest as if you were speaking normally, but from a point just below your larynx. Now say some kind of innocuous declarative sentence as sarcastically as you can in your nastiest, shittiest parody of a Valley Girl accent that, to someone who's actually worked in West LA, and even to someone who has not, doesn't even come close to erasing your Southern drawl that everyone now knows you're ashamed of for trying to conceal it. That's Christiffany's valence state, and without trying she makes for a very hostile work environment. Then there's the sous, Heduardo, an extraordinarily large Hispanic Okie diabetic with ADD and just so we're clear I have not once made a joke in this entire post and do not intend to. He has problems identifying what needs done and doing it, but he's good people and he's a pretty good cook in the vein of "melt a shitload of fat and sugar and then deep fry it" and I mean that in a genuinely good way because the results are consistently delicious if also explanatory of his health problems. One day he takes me aside and asks me in the tones of a father asking his son what sport he's going to play, "Willie, you're a racist, right?" I tell him in complete earnest and honesty in that kind of non-answer-answer I've learned to give "Man, I'm from Vermont. If I say 'homie' three times in a 24 hour period the NAACP sends me a sternly worded form letter" and that answer seemed to satisfy him, and I actually aggressively do not care whether he took it in the affirmative or the negative. And Heduardo definitely could have prepped more aggressively for tonight. He could have seen a single six-pan of mashed potatoes and thought "well, if we don't use it tonight it'll keep for lunch service tomorrow at least so the breakfast crew doesn't have to bother if they get an early lunch entree" but he didn't. He could have seen a 100% occupancy figure and maybe pulled a few more proteins than our par count, let alone the below-par that was there, ditto maybe some of the starches. He was nine days on, and he was tired. On Friday, I was tired too covering as I was for a short staff on the line. I still did my loving job but I was tired too, so I get it. I am at present just barely enlightened enough to recognize this empathy as the weakness that has made me a college educated line cook, but I can't shake it and don't want to so gently caress it. And for a few hours he really probably thought he got away with it because until about 6:45 or so it was downright sedate until, in a prescient metaphor for the kitchen's Body Without Organs, he toddles off to take a poo poo claiming a runny rear end in a top hat (side note: its probably the jalapenos and sriracha you're using as a replacement for flavor, hope that helps friend.) As traumatic experiences tend to, it comes back in fits and flashes heedless of chronology stopping and starting as they wont. I imagine I'll be sorting through tonight for years. --we make a nickel, they take a dime, always be making GBS threads on company time. that's not me making the rules, that's god's justice as it is and as it should be, but i can't help but notice i tend to poo poo before the doors open where others tend to poo poo right before twelve covers order from three outlets with one hapless fucker on the line. i feel like i would solve a lot of my personal problems if i could find the strength to poo poo in the weeds. --christiffany waddles up from god only knows where to see one dude humping eight tickets on the rail and--again, i invite you to try this voice at home because your most sneering hyperbole will probably only reach 3/4ths of the fractally loathsome truth of the referent--"OH MY GAAAAWWWWDDDDDD, WHEN DID *THIS* HAPPEN! and while i'm normally extremely disapproving of gendered epithets IRLyou stupid loving bitch you are running this show, you need to know when this happened. at least read a ticket, there's a time on there that will tell you when this happened. she sits in the pass and does nothing for the vast majority of the night. she doesn't even have the decency to whip out her phone and text. she actually looks bored for most of it. --a customer swears up and down that last night her creme brulee was twice as large. literally twice as large. she is livid. we have never once, in the history of the hotel, served creme brulee in anything other than the same shirring dish. christiffany comps it. this makes sense because this is clearly what the woman is after. what doesn't make sense is having me fire a second one. --we run out of the chicken milanese cuts first. that's fine, we've taken to vacuum sealing it in the last week so it thaws out quickly under running water now and chicken is seared and well done so throw it down and don't char it to gently caress, okay, fine, fine, its fine, whatever. we run out of beef filet cuts next. that sucks. that... theres not really a way around that. christiffany, 86 filet. two minutes later: *the micros chrips and grates out another filet* CHRISTIFFANY WHAT THE gently caress, GIRL. "well i'm sorry!" c... could you maybe say sorry to the customer who can't have a filet tonight? can you say sorry to the customer who just bought a bunch of loving lies because you can't communicate to the servers that filet is 86'd? --we get a mod to add roasted carrots. we have no carrots blanched to roast and the tickets are piling up. so we tell her: we have no carrots. christiffany bursts into a flurry of action, waddling into the back, into the walk in, grabs an unpeeled whole carrot and throws it in the pass. Heduardo realizing he doesn't give a gently caress anymore, slices it up and throws it on the flattop with some oil. it of course takes loving forever, because we just threw loving carrot slices of all different sizes onto the flattop and it works about as well as you'd expect. "ughhhghnnnnnn, why's it taking so longgggg!" she whines, to which Heduardo wryly replies "they're sauteing" "why aren't they roasting" she whines some more and Heduardo seems to be done with the conversation but i pick it up: "you should be honest with the customers, because we can't roast carrots on the fly in peak service." she actually thought "well i don't know thaaaat!" was a pretty snappy reply which is fine because i thought slamming a sautee pan of cauliflower onto a cutting board like a gavel, locking her into an eye-to-eye deathstare and firmly saying "You should." was also pretty snappy in turn. she shut up after that so maybe she's smarter than she lets on. --you would never guess it if you met my alternately loudmouthed and shy, fussy and flamboyant communist rear end IRL, but there actually is not a single gay bone in my body. christiffany leaves on an errand and by that point Heduardo and i are in full effect, he throws down the product, i plate it up and fill in the gaps in his process. three more tickets print and i frantically scan around and see one of the servers adam. adam is the doppleganger of one of my best friends growing up, down to the freakish beard propensity and DWI charge ruining the gently caress out of his life. i say "hey adam, what are my proteins all day" he glances at the rail and says without missing a beat "three ribeye two midwell one midrare, one tenderloin mid, three brick chicken one hold mash sub root veg" then he turns on his heel independently verifying that we're busy as poo poo plating as fast as we loving can and leaves to check on his six tables. in that moment, just for one minute only, there was exactly one gay bone in my body for adam. --christiffany comes downstairs after delivering an amenity (you ever seen a bowl of fruit in your room after checking into a hotel? that, and any similar food item like that is called an amenity, we do them up in advance for delivery later in the day) and, unbidden, immediately hits us with an "OH MY GAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWDDDDDD they're so angry! it was their annivirsary and they said the delivery was five hours late!! and i'm like 'oh my gaaaawwwwddddd, i'm so sorry!' and he's like 'arent you, like, the manager' and i'm like 'uh, yeah!' and he's like 'well then its your fault that the delivery is late' and i'm---"and she trails off there, because she realizes with uncharacteristic but admirable swiftness that she's accidentally included the part of the story where its entirely her fault, and anyway can you make a comped mousse? that's it, that was the point of her whole story, i need you to make me one more comped dessert, your umpteenth of the night. --there are no spare minutes, there is no spare movement, but nontheless Heduardo takes one to say "thank you man, i'm so fuckin' glad" and we dap. a 300 pound racist diabetic hispanic okie with add, and a 160 pound squirrely manic depressive irish slavic new england carpetbagging socialist shithead put all which was illusory aside and dapped as men. we each threw our dap from the torso, we put follow through into the dap, we dapped so fuckin' hard the rail shook. like i said, i'm vermonter by breeding, daps come to me like swimming to a cat. but it happened. i dapped. *we* dapped, and though i hope we do, we may never see its like again. --a couple hours to close we finally get our first wing order. we just use a jug of frank's red hot for the wings, its one less thing to prep out and the drunks don't seem to mind doming straight white vinegar and cayenne with some tomato paste for color. the wings come up and i grab the jug and the little shithead who worked lunch that morning, that loving kid, just rested the cap on the jug and didn't screw it on. on a whim i wore my freshly laundered white jacket that day. its not a super nice jacket, but its one of the first grownup chef whites i ever got. jacket and apron are absolutely sodden with lovely, vinegary smell wafting off them. so gently caress it, off goes the apron and down go the buttons to reveal my dope vintage 70's Bundeswehr surplus muscle shirt and just then Heduardo's Spotify ticks over to Break Stuff and for a minute i forget that Limp Bizkit sounds like what a balding rapist listens to while powerlifting. for a minute i'm back in cafe3456, i'm back at papi tino's. i'm back home, wherever that is. --why is it so dark in here? how did i get in this hole and why is it so warm and muzzy and familiar? why does it feel like the walls are closing in and why can't i see them and why does that thrill me? you should try it here in the hole. you will, one day. one day we'll all go in the hole, all alone, together. --we're called out on every. single. temp. normally i would be fine with this, since we charge a premium for proteins and the customer deserves to have their steaks cooked right, but these temps are cruel. mid-well plus. WHAT THE gently caress IS THAT. that's a Schrodinger's Temp; you cut into the meat once its been 150 for a tick or three to see if its the "clarifying" modifier: "only a little pink" and if its pink but a little more than a little pink then that part is gonna get cooked too fast, and if its over then you just hosed the dog on a 40 dollar protein. so gently caress it, i send it up midwell. its the end of the night, its a room service order, room service you can get picky. gently caress it. gently caress you. midwell. better under than over, and of course its sent back and christiffany, oh my lord christiffany, she outdoes herself. she puts it to me "uhhhhmmmmmmnnnnnmmm, do you want it sent back down to put back on the grill or do you want to just start a new one" loving OF COURSE I WANT TO BRING IT UP for the love of the black baby jesus i'm not firing a fresh ribeye this late and i'm not firing a fresh ribeye period unless there is absolutely positively no other choice. i send it back up and wipe down the line and punch out (or i forget to punch out, i don't remember) and pass her writing her report and pause in the doorway and say "Hey, listen, no matter where you go the rule is gonna be better under than over, so if its possible, always try to have it brought up" and she looks at me but she doesn't look *at* me with glassy, calflike eyes "Oh... yeah... i know. But... well, it was close to close and I figured you guys wouldn't want to walk all the way up there for one steak so close to close" And I focus all my years of having seen poo poo you wouldn't believe, in so many lines of work, so many lives. With all that feeling I look into her eyes for any recognition of what she did just there, having successfully accomplished no actual grownup work while the restaurant under her leadership burnt to the loving ground, her final act of the night pawning off her own sloth, her own reluctance against taking one loving elevator ride and ascribing it not just to one other person, but two. She didn't. So I said "Well, we did, and we always will, always. good night." and left. Some of my weirdly happiest memories are of sitting outside Papi Tino's (it wasn't) Authentic Mexican (it wasn't) Cantina (it wasn't) and chainsmoking coffin nails and sipping shift lonestars and then more lonestars and having Group Therapy just checking in with each other that today's hosed up poo poo actually definitely happened. Papi Tino is dead. His memory disgraced. And I haven't smoked a cigarette since quitting that shithole two years and change ago, now.  well there goes that streak. thanks for reading. A Man and his dog posted:It's not good by any means. But drat does it sell. 
Willie Tomg fucked around with this message at 18:31 on Aug 18, 2015 |
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Aug 18, 2015 10:52
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On the upside, Heduardo isn't working tonight, and I won't put up with christiffany's stupid poo poo, so it should be more pleasant all around. And calling him Heduardo, man that is comedy gold.
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Aug 18, 2015 13:04
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Willie Tomg posted:well i think its been a tasteful enough interval since i've done this, so get those scrolling fingers ready This was a glorious and hilarious read which far eclipses the responses I had lined up from catching up with this thread.  So just two quickie notes: Someone upthread mentioned draconian rules about having drinks in the kitchen. I hear that nonsense. We aren't allowed to have drinks, lidded or otherwise, anywhere until service is over. I was in pots'n'pans yesterday, which meant 5 hours non-stop scrubbing sheet and line pans without so much as a pee break. It's hotter than a Harkonnen prison camp, and I'm soaked to the bones, with sweat and steam collecting in my glasses, and I am SO thirsty staring at the 3-sink. Literally, water water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. I'm all about food safety, but having a dishbitch almost pass out from dehydration may just trump that, imho. Let us BOH have a loving cup of potable water, fer chrissakes. Item #2: if anyone was curious about our dishwasher fire: we have 2 washers, and the one that caught fire is notorious for somehow chucking plastic cups out from the racks. You put 25 cups in, 23 come out, and whoever gets to clean the washer after service fishes out 8-12 cups after 3 hours. A few got stuck down next to the heating element and when the water drained, a combo of that + food = poof. Fake edit: okay, item 3, inspired by Wille's Willie Tomg posted:I won't Name Names, obviously, but even if I did in this instance, you wouldn't believe me. Her actual, not-even-kidding-you-name-IRL, is so self-satirizing, so quintessentially and immaculately trashy, so godshitting hilarious, you wouldn't believe me for a second even if I told you. Where I'm at, my least favorite co-worker also has a ridiculous name. It's a major Japanese company name followed by a semi-popular American beverage. So, like, her name's Nintendo Pibb, or Hitachi Ovaltine. Coming up with amusing variations helps the service go by.
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Aug 18, 2015 16:19
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Please let it be Fuji Faygo.
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Aug 18, 2015 17:17
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mitsubishi fanta
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Aug 18, 2015 18:07
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SONY INSTANT-BREAKFAST
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Aug 18, 2015 18:10
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Guys, it's obviously Kawasaki Heavy Industries Two Percent Milk.
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Aug 18, 2015 18:35
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Sanrio 7-Up
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Aug 18, 2015 19:05
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