Thursday night, 11 October

Normally I don't have so much to say about one night's worth of work, but last night held a couple of experiences that I would like to relate to you.
First of all, it was a slower night, but steady. We were never swamped, but we had enough orders to be working steadily. The hotel, by the way, as two restaurants: Apollo and Mirage. Mirage is more of a high end pub, which a great buffet and a bar and TVs, but a lot of people go there because it is cheaper and more relaxed.
Apollo gets the "proper" dinner crowd, and that is better for me anyway. There is more to learn there.
The night started off with the chef calling me over to him. He was shucking some oysters. He told me that these were especially good ones, from off the coast of Normandy. Cool water oysters, and fish in general are almost always better. They have to develop more fat to stay warm, and fat is flavor, yo. Also, you could tell how good these oysters were because they came in a really nice box. You know, when you go Jewel or Aldi or someplace like that, you know you're not getting the good stuff because the bags are plastic and cheap, and you can get deals like, "Buy ten oysters, and get the next forty five hundred free!"
But this place, I mean, you had to buy oysters by the count. Like you have to say, "Yeah, I would like twelve oysters." Who sells seafood that way? Only the really good places do. The box these came in, by the way, is sanded blond wood, and inside there is tissue paper wrapping each oyster. It is like the underwater Santa came early this year.
Anyway, I have mentioned already that I am a vegetarian, and that veggie or no, I don't have a real liking for seafood. So the chef was like, "Look at these oysters. They are delicious. You must try one." I balked at the thought. I wanted to say, "Um, hi? I'm a vegetarian. This isn't a plant, dude. Plus it looks like somebody blew their nose in this shell." But instead I just said, "Well, I.... uhhhh...." To which the chef responded, "Eat it. It is a must."
So I did.
It tasted like the cool and fresh waters of the Atlantic. Cold and crisp and salty. It was like I had a New England morning in my mouth.
Until I got to the part where I actually had to chew the oyster.
Mmmmmmmm, phlegmy. Salty and phlegmy.
Why do people eat these things? Who was the guy who first pried open one of these things, and said, "Hey guys, this looks like something that I coughed up yesterday morning! Lets eat it!" Grossville.
Later, the chef asked me to go make some copeaux de Parmesan. You know when you order a salad and you get really thin shavings of cheese on top? Those are copeaux. I don't know what the word actually means. I am guessing "shavings" but Lord knows with these people. I mean, I would have thought that crotan de chevre would have meant goat cheese cake, but you all remember how that turned out.
So, I had to go shave some Parmesan. No problem. I have done it a thousand times. Problem was we didn't have any wedges of Parmesan around. I looked in all the walk in coolers (there are eight), and in the cheese locker. Nothing.
I told the chef about it, and he gave me a knife that was, no joke, about four inches thick, and just shy of two feet long. It wasn't a knife, it was a fricking sword, y'all. Then he took me to a counter, and showed it to me....
Have you ever felt like you were in a waking dream? Like you were in a haze, and the world is just spinning around you, and out of your control? That is what I felt like when he showed me to the table.
It is a simple table with a large cutting board.
The chef said to me, "Here, cut this. We got it from Les Halles-Rungis."
And there she was, on that very table, on top of that very cutting board. My love. My two hundred pound wheel of organic Parmesan cheese.
And in my right hand was the sword I would have to kill her with.
I felt like I was in the middle of a bad Broadway musical.
I just stared at her. How could I cut her up, but how could I not?
The chef looked from the cheese to me, and said, "Just push the knife into the center of the wheel, and pull it down towards you. Then do that again to form the wedge." He might as well have said, "Now just plunge the dagger into your wife's heart like this... There you go, very good. Now, twist it until she screams bloody murder... yes, like that, you're a real natural at this!"
Anyway, I did it. I killed her, but it wasn't easy. I mean, not emotionally difficult. She just happens to weigh a ton. I pushed that knife into the center of the wheel with all of my strength (which is considerable, you know) and then pulled it down towards me. At a certain point, it just wouldn't move anymore. I hung on it, with all of my weight (which is considerable, you know), and still the knife wouldn't move. The chef came by and saw that I was sweating and red in the face. He said, "Here. Like this" and with grace and ease, he pulled the knife right down. I guess there is some technique I have yet to learn. He pushed the tip of the knife into the wedge and lifted it right out. It figures that the French version of The Sword in the Stone should be The Big Ass Knife in the Cheese.
The chef handed me a bit and asked me to taste. After all of that, how was she?
Really? A bit dry.
Later, I was asked to take part in a wine tasting.
This is a real highlight for me. We were to compare a new wine that had come in from the Rhone with a bottle of 1995 Chateau Neuve de Pape (New Chateau of the Pope). If you dont know, Chateau Neuve de Pape is reputed to be one of the best vineyards. Anywhere.
So it was a real treat to taste a wine like that from what was a great year in France. It is also from the Rhone Valley, and the same kind of grape as the new wine, so it would be an interesting comparison.
I tasted and compared. The Pope wine was smooth and elegant. It felt thick in my mouth, and you could really tastes strawberries and white pepper. It took a long time for the wine's taste to leave my mouth, and when I did, I felt a total sense of satisfaction.
The second wine was swill. Straight up swill.
It tasted like bad grapes mixed with disappointment for paying so much for bad grapes. So there is a good lesson: just because a bottle of wine is from a great area and has a fancy name, doesnt mean jack. I mean, I knew that already, but who I am to turn down two glasses of wine in the middle of my shift?
So the night finished off with me working with this guy Benoit (boon-wah). There is a great American film that this person reminds me of. In this film, there are two characters whom I relate myself and Benoit to. Benoit is the seemingly evil robot man, out for destruction. I take the part of the ninja/sorcerer who is only out to see the good in everyone. Anyway, as the movie moves along, you eventually find out that ninja/sorcerer is actually the son of robot man (heaven forbid!). In the end, ninja/sorcerer has to bring out the good in his dark father. He does, and they fall in love and start at B and B in Galena. That's how I always thought Star Wars should have ended anyway.
The point of this whole discourse is that Benoit is my robot man. He doesn't like me at all, but I am trying to see the good in this guy. He is not a particularly good cook. He doesn't really focus on details too much. His people skills are non-existent, and he is totally rude to me all the time. He will laugh at my pronunciation, or take my knives when I am not looking. He is always telling other cooks how I did something wrong, etc etc.
So, I thought, I am gonna turn this around. I am gonna ignore all of his negativity and be really nice from him. Perhaps I can learn from him in some way. All night, I met his stares of disappointment with smiles. I would help him out by finishing dishes, even if he didn't ask me to. I would go and get him stuff if he needed it. I even brought him some water later in the night when I went and got some for myself. It was really tough to do, but I did it.
And at the end of the night, when we were all so tired, a big order came in really late. He looked at me, and smiled, and said, "You do it" and walked away.
After all my killing him with kindness and what not.
I did do the order.
And when it went out, the chef asked who helped me with it. I told him, "Oh, Benoit saw the ticket, but he decided to take a break and left me all alone." The chef was very upset and left the line to find Benoit.
You know, I am a real optimist, and I would like to see myself as the kind of person who always sees the good in a person, even if they hide it way down low. I grew up in Catholic school, learning to love my neighbor; to hate the sin, but love the sinner, and to always turn the other cheek.
But, Benoit? What an asshole.