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I worked in a chain steakhouse for a number of years, both in the kitchen and then as a server, and while there was the usual gross things like lots of floor food being served, someone not washing their hands properly, etc..., two people in particular stand out for being especially stupid and/or gross. First guy was Matt. Matt was the grossest little man I ever met in my life. He worked on the line. Initially, he was in the "salad/fry" position, which as you can guess, was the person responsible for all the salads and fried foods (it also included apps and desserts.) His level of not-washing was above and beyond anything I have ever seen. He would take raw chicken strips with his bare hands, dunk them in the buttermilk, then the flour, then drop them in the fryer. When they were done, he'd take his raw chicken, buttermilk, and flour covered hands to pick them out and place them on the plate. Why wash his hands? They'd just get dirty again! Nevermind the fact that we had gloves we were supposed to use, and why wouldn't you want to use them for something like that? He'd only rinse them off (and yes, just rinse, no soap) when a server would finally complain that there was flour on their salad or something. He was eventually transferred to the grill because at least there he'd (in theory) be using tongs and spatulas to touch the cooked food. Even there, he would be as gross as can be. If he had to put a bunch of chicken on the grill, he'd open the drawer, just grab a massive handful with both hands, hold it up to his chest so he didn't drop any (no apron, either, just a t-shirt) then drop it on the grill. He'd "clean" his hands by wiping them on the front and back of his shirt. And the grill guy also had to slice the prime rib, which meant touching food that was to be served with his gross chicken hands. No lie, we did have an outbreak of either salmonella or e. coli (can't remember which) traced back to cross-contamination at our restaurant (I think like 3 people got sick?). Oddly enough, out of all the possible sources, it was the blue cheese bin. But again, he'd grab the cheese with gross chicken hands, put it on burgers or steaks, and they'd only be under the broiler for 30 seconds or so, not enough to kill bacteria. He was also one of the biggest alcoholics I've ever seen. His usual MO after his shift was over was to walk to the gas station down the street, and buy anywhere from 2 - 4 forties of Old English. He'd crack the first one open in the car of whoever was giving him a ride home that night (if they let him,) and it would be finished by the time he was home (10-15 minute drive.) The other ones would be done while sitting in his apartment, and then he'd usually head out to the bar around the corner from his place. God help you if you offered him a ride. He had a couple people that were his regular rides, but if they weren't working he'd beg for anyone to give him a ride, promising to pay you back (in this case, paying you back meant buying you a 40.) Your car would stink for DAYS. He showered once every few days...if you've ever worked in a restaurant, especially the kitchen, you understand how insanely disgusting this is. I had one night, one that I didn't shower right when I got home because our hot water was out because we didn't pay the oil bill, and I ended up having to throw out that set of sheets because the grease and meat smell would not wash out. That smell was his life. He "combated" this by just dousing himself in Patchouli after every shift, sometimes in the car of whoever was offering the ride, so add that to the list of fun smells your can endured. Along with whatever pack of smokes he could get for cheap. He would always have "the shakes" at work. How he never cut a finger off while using a knife I'll never know.
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Jul 7, 2015 14:02
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| # ¿ May 22, 2024 15:28 |
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cash crab posted:Oh, bread chat: Same bakery as the one with the rubber diaper, we had a lady return a loaf with a mouse in it. Apparently he chewed through the bag and died halfway through trying to finish an entire loaf by himself. What a way to go. This possum's cousin: 
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Jul 7, 2015 21:14
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Aesop Poprock posted:If it makes it better, the possum literally couldn't move to escape because it had eaten so many pastries Living the dream. 
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Jul 7, 2015 23:15
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p-hop posted:Most of the fuckin' around we did was harmless stuff like taking the foamy scum out of the potato peeler after doing a batch. Put that foam on a fancy desert plate, top with whipped cream, drizzle of caramel, and a cherry. Just leave it sitting on the desert counter and watch how many people look at it and almost try a bite. At lots of restaurants, the one I worked at included, the "Au Jus" (it's just just, really, but at this point I've given up the battle) isn't made 100% from the prime rib drippings. There's just not enough of it relative to the amount of steak ordered. So it's supplemented with a big tub of concentrated beef stock. If you've ever bought that "Better Than Bouillon" bran stuff it's the same thing, only in a larger container. When it's in the concentrated state, it's very dark, and very thick, not unlike chocolate fudge. It just so happened one of our most basic desserts was a brownie, on top of ice cream, with chocolate fudge on it. One day, our front of house manager made one of these sundaes, substitution warmed up stock concentrate for the fudge. Looked spot on. We then placed it out back in the prep area (which during dinner became the area for people to chill for a few minutes, and for servers to do their silverware rollups.) Food placed there was considered fair game. It kept the next fifteen minutes fun as every so often those of us on the line would hear someone gag in disgust. Then I went back to chill for a bit, and help out my "girlfriend"* with her rollups and saw one of the hosts polishing off the sundae. His response when we told him it was the beef stock and not fudge was just, "Huh...I thought it tasted a little weird." *Protip: everyone in a restaurant is loving everyone else. Yes, even the grossest, greasiest dishwasher is probably banging the hottest bartender at some point, if for no other reason than he can score her coke. So in this instance, "girlfriend" means a girl that I'm fairly certain was only loving me...for at least that week...or maybe just that night.
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Jul 9, 2015 14:11
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To continue the injury-chat: In addition to the little gross-monster I worked with, I also worked with possibly the dumbest cook I've ever seen. Highlights include: 1) Trying to demonstrate how safe a cut-glove is by gripping a chef's knife in his gloved hand and slicing through it. ER trip, lots of stitches, and a workman's comp claim. 2) Tried to do that stupid "cinnamon challenge" that was sort of popular a number of years ago. Like so many others, he failed miserably and even sucked in some cinnamon into his lungs. No ER trip, but did get sent home. 3) Like most restaurants, we had a giant kettle of simmering water used to warm up a lot of things that come in vacuum sealed bags, like soups, mashed potatoes (it was a chain restaurant, and most chains use pre-made mashed potatoes.) etc... He was dared to "bop" for a bag of soup as one would an apple...it was mostly floating, so he thought it was perfectly safe because it's not like he had to dunk his head into boiling water...just bend down right next to it and get a face-full of steam. 4) Got (what we assume were) heart palpitations from drinking a Monster energy drink about 1/3 of the way down, filling it back up with 4-5 "5 Hour Energy" drinks, and then chugging it. 5) Burned the tip of his nose because he was dared to eat a steak tip straight off the flat-top grill. Next post I'll go into details of the identity-stealing, veteran-impersonating, pedophile, con-artist dishwasher.
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Jul 13, 2015 19:43
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Crow Jane posted:A friend of mine is a chef. He was transporting a pot of bubbling stock from the stove to a prep station and slipped a little. Could have been a million times worse:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llQL9RM_KOo (For those wondering, yes, it's that God-awful Canadian workplace safety ad.)
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Jul 13, 2015 20:36
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| # ¿ May 22, 2024 15:28 |
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So here's a fun story about Bob. Bob started working as a dishwasher a couple years after I started. Like most people who are only ever hired to be a dishwasher, he was a little weird. It started off with just some small stuff, like telling too many conflicting stories about his past (he was in the army, then the navy, he lived in Sweden for a decade and got an engineering degree there, no, wait, it was Norway.) Then he would just start making creepy comments about people and yelling more than is normal for a dishwasher (which should say something.) He would also always bring an EMT bag to worked stuffed with a tons of first aid supplies, like he was expecting the restaurant to burn down or something. I saw him use it exactly once, when a prep cook sliced her finger open. So was it a good thing he had all those bandages and whatnot? No, because all the bandages were from the restaurant's first aid kit...all he did was use his stethoscope on her for some reason. He said he was from N. Carolina, and moved up here because he prefers colder weather (from spending time in Sweden, you see.) He lived in an old run-down RV parked in a friend's yard.. He'd always try to get people to come hang out there, saying it's a lot of fun because it's just some field in the middle of nowhere, and we can get drunk and shoot some guns. A few years after he was hired, Bob never came in for his shift one day. Phone calls went unanswered. The next day, two FBI agents come to the restaurant to question everyone about Bob...not his real name, by the way. Seems Ol' Bob (Real name David) was a convicted sex offender from Washington (multiple counts of sexual acts with minors, including an ex-GFs kids,) who stole the identity of the real Bob by breaking into his car and stealing some military documents. [url="https://"http://www.sevendaysvt.com/vermont/a-convicted-sex-offender-made-a-new-life-in-vermont-with-a-soldiers-stolen-id/Content?oid=2244185"]Here's a newspaper article on the thing. [/url]
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Jul 16, 2015 14:37
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