The Kitchen

Working in a professional kitchen is an experience that one cannot be properly prepared for. Personally for me, the anxiety that builds up when you have 5 tickets fired, a souffle in the oven, and doughnuts frying behind you, is much more than you'd expect. There are hungry, impatient customers outside, and at an establishment like where I work, they expect the best. Once the desserts are sent out though, total relief, peace, and pride as you wipe up the mess you've just created.

I've only worked in two different kitchens so far, and they couldn't be more different. The first restaurant I worked in was a smaller restaurant, and I did mostly prep work. We prepared the desserts for service, but then left at around 5pm, when garde manger took over and plated the desserts. At my current job, I am the plater of all of the pastries and desserts. Whether I'm working breakfast, serving croissants and muffins, or lunch, or dinner, plating intricate and quite honestly, hard to master, desserts, the pressure is on. (I must admit though, that 3 weeks in, I have now mastered every dessert on our menu and I feel extremely proud of myself.)

Last night was a turning point for me in the kitchen. Getting up to go to work, when you know that you're going to be there until at least 1am, is really hard. The work isn't necessarily challenging, but it is a roller coaster of anxiety and relief. Last night, for the first time, some of the cooks took a real liking to me. It definitely took them some time to warm up to me, but last night, they decided that I was one of them. Having given up basically my entire life for this gig, it felt so good to be accepted into their little kitchen clique. I've been nicknamed "Peaches" by some of the waiters, and it's actually starting to grow on me. Every night, until last night, I would clean my station as fast as possible and bolt for the door, but last night, I stayed and enjoyed a beer with the rest of the cooks and waitstaff, and honestly, it was fun.