A post has been long overdue. And I know that I owe this blog the second part of my thoughts on rewriting recipes. But, being as this is the end of my second week of my externship (yes, it's basically the same thing as an internship), I thought I'd document my progress and experience thus far.
For the time being, the restaurant I'm at will remain nameless. I'm new to the restaurant game and don't want to unintentionally burn bridges. Let's just say that I'm fortunate enough to have been placed in a restaurant that is run by a celebrity chef, and this chef knows food. In fact, this restaurant's food is ridiculously good. Most everything I've tasted is just exquisite. An overused word to describe food, I know, but it's the word that best describes what I'm thinking whenever I put the food in my mouth.
I am very interested in this restaurant's specialty (which I won't reveal because it's easy to guess what restaurant it is) and I knew I wanted a tough externship. While the latter didn't really cross my mind when I signed on, I expected an environment of high standards.
And what I got was a pretty intense place.
So intense, in fact, that my first week-and-a-half was spent with me being really stressed out. My current trainer, the main prep cook, comes across as impatient only because his job is to push me. This man can do everything there: make bread, pasta, all the meat prep... whatever needs to be done at this restaurant in terms of prep, he can do. And he expects me, a lowly intern, a person with no professional restaurant experience save for a single day doing appetizers and pizzas at a local Sacramento eatery, to be perfect on the first try. And to remember every. single. thing. he. does. If he shows something me once, he expects me to remember all of the subtleties and steps. Me being new to this type of work, my observation skills are not exactly keen on all the details, which I hate because I am a details person. I'm a technical person. I like methodology. Once I've got those things down, I can work on making my tasks more second-nature. Put me in front of a drumline and my observation skills rival those of Sherlock Holmes (yeah, I'm being cocky. It's for the effect). But, when it comes to restaurant work, I don't have the motor skills this guy does, he who has been with the restaurant's head chef for nine years. So, when watching this man make professional pasta with the grace of a ballerina (no joke), it is amazing. And daunting. And no, my current set of motor skills don't yet include those types of movements to handle that type of thin, delicate material. But if I get it wrong, which I did - several times, in fact - I get a contemptuous looks and often a verbal berating.
But it's what they do at this restaurant. They push. Everyone pushes. In fact, last night, he actually, and oddly, apologized for pushing me, but qualified it by saying, "But it's good for you." I replied, "You're supposed to push me."
It's what's been happening the last two weeks, the last 89 hours of work I've put in so far. Even the head chef, the celebrity himself, really got on my case the third day in because I was too slow at picking parsley. And I didn't start my day right, either. I forgot to change my shoes, something I never do. I forgot my notepad, something I never do. And he was not happy. But, I haven't made that mistake since.
But, when I do a good job, or even an improved job, I do get told.
I have always told my drumline students not to take criticism, harsh or pleasantly put, personally. It's our job to push. It's our job to criticize. It's been a long time since I've been on the receiving end. I'm usually the guy who's giving it. Now, it's my turn to take it. Except that this is so, so much more intense than drum corps was when I marched. And there was a lot of yelling and cussing, not to mention running and pushups and standing at attention for long periods of time. Granted, that was many years back so perhaps the memories of that experience have softened, but my current experience compared to my drum corps experience? The restaurant business, at least the intensity at which this one is run, is a harrowing experience. My psyche certainly took a lashing. Perhaps it's because, at the end of the day, paying customers are involved, as is money spent on ingredients. It's a for-profit business based on volume.
By the end of my second week, I have improved. I can do certain things with more competency. I get "yelled" at a little less. Yes, I still get pushed, and yes, my trainer will still look at me with those big, contemptuous eyes and a snide, ego-pounding remark, but I'm taking my beatings and I know that I'll come out the other end tougher, faster, and more efficient.
I'll post another update at a later date with other observations. Until then, I need to make sure my return to work after a couple days off starts with me progressing and not regressing.
[UPDATED 10-13-2011]
