It’s been a year of intense stress, joy and utter terror having quit my day job in June to pursue pop up chef aspirations. And with all the madness of the past year, I have to say that I’ve never worked quite as hard as I have in the past 7 days. The week feels like a marathon and just like a marathon my body is falling apart. The left side of my left foot is still numb, my forearms have some kind of dry skin rash on them (same as other people in the kitchen) and my general morale is waning today. Tomorrow’s another day – a better day I hope.
Today felt like a particularly hard day with last minute orders kept coming up from the service kitchen and our Monday morning to do list seemed to stretch on forever. We needed 40 tamales before dinner including making the filling; picking a whole pot of criollo; making vinaigrette; about 150 tortillas; and a million other things.
Being my second week the expectations are increasing rapidly with my first solo day in the prep kitchen being Friday as it’s Dara’s day off (oh the terror!) – so I guess I’ll be alone in prep… at on of the best restaurants in the world!
Today I got some frustrated looks for as I took about 20 minutes to find all the ingredients for the tamales (the damn baking powder was hiding from me).
Must try harder, be more organised and be faster tomorrow.
Too tired to type any more.
Night night, sweet journal.