Right now I’m reading a book about a chef (reference) and it has really got me thinking about my time spent in the kitchen as a line chef or second expo… It wasn’t like any other job I have ever worked in. The pressure was immense when you were working in a team that was cooking over 600 meals a shift, particularly when I was in charge of calling out orders and judging timing for half of the kitchen (grill, flat top and broiler).
It was hard work in incredible temperatures. The first year I spent as a line chef in Montauk, the lowest temperature in the kitchen was 110 degrees. We had 6 300 degree fryers, an open top grill, a flat top and a broiler which was a bitch. By our second hour of work, the fridge would be running at 72 degrees.
Your station was kitted out with everything you needed to cook food fast and well. Sometimes when the shit would hit the fan and there were 20 orders in the window and a queue of orders waiting to be put up, things would really move into hyper drive. The rest of the time was spent getting prepared for the rush and keeping the place clean.
During these times I could have been asked for an all day by somebody (what was on that person’s station at that time, how it was to be cooked and information about what I needed first or yesterday). In Stephen’s case we sometimes used to add an extra salmon on that we needed yesterday J… salmon being the slowest thing to cook in the kitchen (sorry dude). It was hot smelly work but also very rewarding. There is no feeling like it when you are on one of the stations and you manage to get through a rush with no panic. You were part of a team, and if you messed up an order, the entire meal could be in jeopardy and the last thing you want to ask your team mates to do was redo a meal. They had enough going on.
Things moved fast in a kitchen. You constantly had to be working out how to load up your station so that you were prepared for an unexpected order of 20 salmons, or 50 lob rolls. When the shit hits the fan, you don’t want to have to leave your station for even 40 seconds to pull a new lob.
Stephen joined me in the kitchens during the second stint which was great. I think we were both very good at what we did, something I know realise shouldn’t have been taken for granted by us. The challenge of spending 45 hours a week in 120 degrees is not a small ask, let alone the added pressure of the actual cooking, cleaning and planning.
So, why am I writing about this now? Because I am really feeling the pull of the kitchens… and I might go back.