Well... It is officially my favorite time of the year. The unbearable heat in the midwest is slowly dying down, across the pond English Premier League Soccer is kicking off, and the Colts resume what I assume to be another successful campaign.
I had my first real moment in the spotlight as a cook on Monday, and it was awesome. My dear friend Mary's mother and older sister (who I discovered is an avid reader of my blog... I have an actual audience!!!) were in town helping her move to her new apartment. I was working a late shift because three of the cooks were doing a private dinner at a VIP diner's home. I was in the walk in and Mia (the hostess who thinks I'm insane because I freaked out when she told mer her name because thats the name of my dog who I currently miss more than anything in the world and is probably in Indy, laying on my bottom bunk waiting for her boy to come home) came back and asked me if I had an African Mother. I didn't know what to think. Me being a sick perverted person thought immediately that she was commenting on my butt, which does look quite nice in checkered chef pants. I responded with a stifled "Uhhh... nooooo?" She proceeded to tell me that there was a woman in the dining room who said that she was my African mother and that she needed a table. It hit me, Mary's parents are from South Africa... and for the past year and a half, the Ording household has been like a second home to me. About a half hour later, there was a lull in the kitchen, no tickets, and I had nothing to do for a few minutes. Krys, the FOH manager looked at me and said, "Mikey, you busy?" I told him I wasn't. He told me to take off my apron and go out into the dining room.
Let me start by saying that NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE except for Chef is allowed out into the dining room during service. And the fact that they were letting me, the 19 year old intern, with a scruffy ass beard, and clogs that were covered in flour because I had earlier made an 8x batch of pasta dough by hand the old fashioned way, out into the brand new ritzy dining room full of guests was HUGE. The two ladies were seated at a table, both facing away from the kitchen, and WIlliam, their server was facing me, explaining the menu. They had no idea I was coming. William looked up and saw me, smiled and waited for me to tap them both on the shoulders. They both jumped a little and Mrs. O let out a little scream then madness ensued. I was greeted with the usual bear hug and barrage of kisses on the cheek that I always get from Mrs. O. Then I stood by their table for a few minutes and chatted with them while Mrs. O grabbed my hand and petted my arm. It was just a little akward because all of the servers and diners were watching me interact with my guests. I thanked them over and over for coming and suggested menu items for each of them, then eventually pried my arm away form Mrs. O's iron grip and made my way back to the kitchen, with a bug stupid grin on my face.
When I walked back into the kitchen there was a mixed reception from the staff. A few asked if that was my girlfriend who "molested" me in the dining room. And a few of them asked if they could get the other girl's number. I, of course, said no to both. (Nicola you're welcome, because I successfully diverted Steven, the creepy little bartender who already asked me to hook him up with your sister).
My sublet at 511 W Doty St has come to an end, and Craigslist came through in the clutch. On Thursday I signed a new sublet for three months in a house East of the capitol, in a 2 bedroom flat with another guy and a black lab named Grismond. Friday night I got off work and had dinner with my parents at Graze. Then the fun started. They cleaned my apartment like crazy while I pretended to pack, take out garbage, and move boxes to the Uhaul van (I was actually watching Whale Wars...) We Got to work around 8 30 and left around 11 30. We stayed the night in our hotel room at the Holiday Inn Express. The next morning we were at it again, tying up loose ends and getting my keys turned back in.
For those of you who aren't aware, Madison, for one weekend a year, turns into a hell hole. August 14 and 15 is the time when all the crazies come out, This weekend is the weekend when ALL leases are up on campus and mostly all around the city. That means that about 20 thousand students and thousands of other civilians, are all moving out of old apartments, and into new ones. Friday night, I left my sofa, a couple of bar stools, and my coffee table out on the curb for the hippies to come by and take back to their caves and hemp huts. The streets were packed with moving vans, pickup trucks, and dump trucks, and the sidewalks were littered with sofas, old crappy love seats, TV's, desks, etc.
This is my last week on the day shift... On friday I was informed that I start working the line in a week. They think I'm ready. I know I am. The only thing I am worried about is that I won't be the house butcher/ charcutier like I was while I worked the day shift. That is my true passion. Don't get me wrong, I really want to get on the line and kick some ass, but as I said in my blog last week, my heart is with meat.
At dinner on Friday night I explained to my parents my plan to become a butcher. My mom laughed and said that she knew this. Since I could talk my mom has said that ,"Mike will either grow up to be a stand up comedian, or an axe murderer." I'm not gonna lie, I could get used to this whole writing thing too. My friend Ryan says I need to use spell check a little more often, but most of the reviews I get from this little blog are pretty good. so she could be pretty damn well dead on.
Working the line at a fine dining restaurant is a great honor, especially the fact that they think I'm capable, but frankly, I'd rather be cranking out sausage, curing bacon, and hacking apart ducks. But there will be time for that later. I've gotta make these guys see that I've got what it takes. I've gotta impress, and I've gotta take advantage of an opportunity when it is presented.
I have come to the decision over the past few weeks, also, that I will only be completing the Associates Degree program at the CIA. I really don't have time or money to waste on a business education when all I really wanna do is... well... cut meat. I will probably stay in New York for a while after school to work also, because that is where all the coolest stuff is going down food wise in the US. I know I'm a Midwestern boy at heart, and have previously stated that I could never ever live in New York City, but my love of pork has driven me out of my small town mentality. And if riding the subway or paying 2800 a month for a one room apartment is what I've got to do to learn from the best, its what I'm going to do.
Tomorrow Manchester United opens their season at home against Newcastle. I'm predicting a 3-1 win with goals from Valencia, Chicharito, and Rooney.
I, start my life in my new apt. tomorrow night too. Wish me luck.
Tune in next week to hear me freak out about starting the line in the morning.
Later,
Mike
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