08/08/2026
This is why I (Jacqueline aka his Goldilocks) work so hard taking care of him and the business because he has worked so hard for so many that if this tiny warrior can make a impact looking good in his shoes for now.
Chef Unwinding- August 8th 2015 by Chef Ken
The chef after a long arduous day.
It's often almost impossible to unwind speedily. On one's feet and at top speed for 12, 15, 18, or more hours, with not so much as two minutes for sitting. Exhaustion can make one's head swim. Limbs weaken. Yet, one cannot quit, or sit.
Outside the temperature may be in excess of 100 degrees. Therefore, with stoves and ovens at full blast, the kitchen closes in on the temperature needed to adequately cook chicken.
Around 135 degrees one finds that a glass of water every thirty minutes is almost insufficient. The salt on one's brow, nose, top lip and eyelids, make one feel sticky. The salt stings eyes. All over the body, it is the same story.
Yet, the very perspiration causing this discomfort, also cools. Thick, white Egyption cotton, full sleeve chef's jackets are not only made to protect from burns, but more to capture the cooling sweat. Retain it, to decrease the body's temperature. Checkered trousers the same. Although, after four or five hours, one starts wondering about the efficacy of going "Commando", as chafing from concentrated salts build up.
Run, run, run. Helter skelter toward the deadlines. No eating. No break. Maniacal speed. Through the mind's mist, the focal point is creating something uniquely dillisious. Something creatively beautiful. Composition. Color. Texture. Taste. All of paramount importance when creating wonderful food. Almost as important as the ingredients within the dishes.
Love goes in. Passion goes in. Drive goes in. An inexorable amount of bullheadedness also goes into the minutes, hours and days of the chef.
"Thank you, for a wonderful meal, chef".
"A great experience".
With farewells, handshakes and hugs exchanged, the chef, reorganizes the remnants of the now dormant kitchen. Closes down and trundells home. Exhausted.
Unfortunately, rarely is Morpheous ready to welcome one to his arms. The Wicked Witch Adrenaline
