Those goddamn burritos
Well, the job is coming to an end. Labor Day fast approacheth. I have enjoyed being back in a kitchen, have enjoyed the fact that it was only temporary, have enjoyed being around waitresses, and working my ass off covered with a thin sheen of sweat and grease.
For normal people, cooking for large numbers of people is very stressful. Chefs/cooks are almost all universally drunks. Those guys on Food Network don't count. They're too cute and haven't actually worked in years, I bet. My alcohol consumption went up, admittedly. It's the culture, though. Professional kitchens are hardcore places and that's no lie. For normal people, it's terribly stressful, especially during an event like the 10-day Sturgis Motorcycle Rally when a quarter of a million people descend on this pristine little corner of the world, all of them, it seems, hungry.
I handle the stress of a kitchen well, though, and was even complimented by my boss: "Nothing seems to bother you. I like that." My secret? I don't give a shit. I'm not being facetious. Really. I don't give a shit about your burger or how long you had to wait. Notice how all the tables are full. If you're impatient, go to fucking McDonald's.
Can I get white bread instead of a bun? Raw instead of sauteed onions? Blah, blah. Sure, your highness, but I'm slowing your ticket down because it's annoying.
It's just people eating out, that's all. I don't get why some people in the industry allow themselves to be driven mad by people eating out.
Fuck 'em.
Like virtually all restaurants in the U.S., the menu is too large, too full of options. Americans are like giant, whiny toddlers who want lots of choices and distractions. Why not a different 6 or 8 item menu each week that can be prepared well, quickly, and at high volume? Sorry, that makes sense, would increase quality, and would create interest. What's gonna be on the menu next week? people may ask themselves. They may, or they may get pissy and say Where's my giant small burrito?
So 28 item menu that rarely changes, here we come! Bog those cooks down!
The burritos on the the menu kill me. They are beyond stupid. The married couple who are my bosses don't have any children. Instead, they have these burritos. They are anal about them constantly. They want them enormous, yet small.
Creating a really big, small burrito is a very tricky endeavor, especially for a guy who doesn't give a shit about even normal burritos. I can't seem to do it. Either they're too big or too small, but never quite big and small. They want them small so they are manageable enough to eat with the hands, but as big around as a redwood trunk.
Time and again, they pop back in my kitchen to inform me that the burritos are coming out too small or big, but never small AND big, which would be perfection.
The waitresses know of my hatred of these goddamn burritos and have started apologizing when they put in an order for one. "Really, Mike. I didn't tell them they were good or anything!" They're so cute.
In reality, my burritos are fine. They are tasty and can either be picked up or eaten with a fork. I make them pretty with melted cheese and bell pepper rings of various colors. They are filling, but probably do lack 4,000 calorie punch typical of an American menu item.
Sue me. Anyway, no more jobs for this guy. I'm just gonna be a starving writer again.
Until I get bored or the car breaks down or something….
