2 minutes please.

Hey dude, we gotta talk. You're not going to like what i'm about to say, but at a certain point a person decides to move beyond the bullshit, and today i'm that person. Do you want a glass of water? Let me get you a glass of water. OK, here we go.

I want you to look at everyone around you. You're surrounded by smart, talented, motivated people. At times, you are one of these people. At at other times you get so consumed by your own fears and insecurities that it seems like the entire kitchen is passing you by. The difference between them and you is that they have goals. Obligations. A compelling feeling that they need to do something--something important...if only to themselves. Your days seem like they're devoted to maintaining the status quo. Granted, maintaining the status quo can be difficult at times, but what would be really nice is to see you push. I want to see you put yourself out there, and take risks, and be able to fully absorb the heartbreak of failure. Your fear of failure is what's holding you back. Your embrace of complacency is the very reason you're not moving up.

And the negativity. Oh, the motherfucking negativity. You see, if you came to me with ideas and solutions about how to fix things, we might start to move forward. Instead, you come to me and you bitch, and whine, and complain. If I didn't know better I would think that you were perfect--otherwise how could a person criticize others so passionately? You start shit with others, and come across with a harshness usually reserved for 3 Michelin star chefs. You, my friend are no 3 Michelin star chef. You need to learn how to communicate with others. This shit is simple; show respect, get respect, say please all the time, and if your co-workers are really letting you down, tell me and I will get your back.

I tell you all this because I want you to succeed. I want you to be good. No, I want you to be phenomenal. You have these little flurries of brilliance, and when those happen, it's almost hard to look you in the eyes--it's like staring into the sun. There is nothing sadder in life than wasted potential...unless you're talking about misdirected potential. Craigslist could fill a million terabytes with all your "missed connections" with greatness.

So starting now, everything is different. I still like you, but in this kitchen we are committed to progress. Get on board, or fuck off.



notes:

• joellen from blue bottle makes the best fucking coffee ever
• wow, I feel much better now
  
• speaking of which, caleb (jr) at nopa makes espresso that tastes like dark chocolate
• consider this next time you leave a shitty tip
• if you want your head to hurt, try to imagine how the hell the pixies made surfer rosa and doolittle in the 1988 and 1989. (granted, daydream nation, straight outta compton, it takes a nation of millions, and and justice for all came out then too)
  
• white asparagus from dirty girl this year?
• pick your three favorite people in san francisco, and tell them you love them
• if we can smell your perfume in our kitchen, you might be wearing too much
• you should really see our new dance move. everyone puts their own little touch on it
• wondercon and coi this weekend!
• amy, corey and I want to do a mission street food night
  
• my wife is snoring away next to me on the couch. she is the fucking sweetest thing i've ever seen.
  

quotes and conversations:

Al: She has problems with her legs.
Kim: Oh, now I feel bad!
Al: Yeah, you should. Yeah.


Maritess: Hey Richie, can we send Paulie an extra sopapilla?
Me: No.


"I look like Kermit and Beaker's love child."
-Amy. Done with the funny pictures.


Me: Al should run for mayor.
Chef: Of Tijuana.


"A nice hairless chest with my underarmor shorts on and Chinese flip-flops."
-Goose. Lounges in style.


"Sassy. Hey Sassy. Smile Sassy. Dance Sassy."
-Kamaal, who would be right at home directing models at a fashion shoot.


"People want to hear about the poor kid from Puerto Rico that came to America and became a chef."
-Corey, who should write Al's biography.


"Fire torta's! Oh, that's a man."
-Merrell


"I like the Pixies. All girls, right? Oh, that's the Dixie Chicks."
-Goose. Loves the rock n roll.


"No dude, i'll punch her in the throat. You want it rough? Go sleep outside!"
-Corey. Into the rough stuff.


"It's a space pen. Nitrogen filled. You can write upside down in zero gravity."
-Eddie. Has a fancy pen.


"If I haven't had my eggs, it's too early for prostitution."
-Corey.


"If I had pepperoni nipples it would be one thing."
-Ponder. Tiny nipples.


Me: When you do the Jedi mind trick, you're supposed to do this. (waves hand)
Chef: I did!


"You look like Jesus Christo when he was carrying his cross."
-Al, who likes the way I carry the ladder.


Me: Necessito ayuda.
Christian: Yo tambien!


"They fuck guys like you in prison Paulie."
-Ponder. Ex con.


Nopalito Kelly: How's things here?
Me: Things are good. You know, i'm on the mother ship.
Nopalito Kelly: Where ya headed?
Me: No, here. This is the mother ship.


Me: Have you ever heard of a blood clam Paulie?
Kitty: It sounds like a dirty sanchez.
Matty: I've had a couple of bloody clams. I didn't mind.


from top: coco, i love torta's, lamb, amy's last pic, short rib, puto, nopalito, bacon!, fernet, lights.

Decisions.

"You need to decide if you're going to be a cook, or if you're going to be a chef." -Kelly Degala, my former chef.

What is it that your chef sees when he looks at you?  Does he see a chef?  Does he see a cook?  Does he see an invaluable member of his team?  Does he see a complete shithead?  Is he counting on you jumping ship so he can hire back the sautee guy that's been in Mexico?  Is he counting on you becoming his chef de cuisine in 6 months?  Or does he just see a body that fills a station?

One thing that's for sure is that your chef does not see your hopes and aspirations.  He does not see your dreams and goals.  And he doesn't have to.  All the shit going on with him, how could he?  He has people to answer to, and a family, and and endless list of people to call back.  He's got his food cost on the brain, and a stack of special events to sort through, and did the schedule get finished yet?  So how do you fit into this list of priorities?

Like I said before;  you don't.  It's not that he doesn't care--he might if he had the time.  But the way things are going, it's on you to make things happen for yourself.  You need to know what you're working towards.  There has to be a goal, and an unwavering focus on that goal.  You have to believe in your cooking.  You need something worth fighting for.  And when I say fighting, I mean fists and elbows.

You need to be a true believer.  Have you ever been blinded by passion?  A girl or guy that made you so completely fucked up that your friends just couldn't understand?  This is the way you need to feel about your cooking.  Your craft should be sacred to you.  Let's face it, you don't have time to go to church...so if cooking is where you find "God", that's probably not a bad thing.  If you're not willing to make sacrifices on the way up, you might be doing it the wrong way.

Bukowski said this about writing.  You should feel the same way about the kitchen.

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

— Bukowski

notes:

• i don't want for money or fame.  i just want more time.
• coi on the 28th.  hell yes.
• new features are coming to this blog - a "next chefs" q&a, and the podcast, which Corey(!) and I recorded yesterday. 
  
• two blog posts in one day? 
  
• I love Ponder.  Paul is a bitch.
• Boys night in the kitchen is just as awesome and vulgar as it sounds.
• One of the worst feelings in the world is feeling like the food isn't coming out fast enough.  I felt it a lot this week.
• He's neither a fresh water nor a salt water fish.  He's a ponder fish.
• Some people have grace...and some really don't.
• After almost buying a second Blue Bottle hoodie, I settled on one from Park Life.
  
• Corey, do whatever it takes to get that TV.
• My wife might make the best BLT's ever.
• Violet Blue is far more talented at all this tech stuff than I am.  That she helps me is pretty fucking awesome.
• I said it last week, but Nopalito will blow your head off.  It's that good.
• I think my rabbit is diabetic.
• If you come into Nopa, don't be afraid to say hi or give a wave.
• 400+ followers?  Word?
  

quotes and conversations.

"Hey Merrell, have I ever told you that your ankles smell like Milk Duds?  And that Milk Duds are my favorite candy?  I ate them at the movies last night.  I like to pour them on top of my popcorn."
-Corey.  Not sure what to say about this one.

"Ann, six months from now you're gonna think 'shoulda busted a move.'"
-Maritess.  Gives good advice.

"A six pack of Pliny, and she has to make me a BLT afterward."
-Ponder.  Ladies, this is what gets him in the mood.

"If i'm still rocking that same look when i'm 50, just give me the Coming to America haircut."
-Paul.  Ponytail rocker.

Me:  If there was one person I could punch in the face, it would be Rod Stewart.
Corey:  What's wrong with Rod Stewart?


Me:  Corey, I have a coupon for a free Grand Slam breakfast for seniors.  I can't use it, do you want it?
Corey:  How about a foot in the ass?  You don't need a coupon for that shit, i'm giving it out for free.


Me:  Are Bolivian's fat?
Alejandro:  Very.  They barely fit on their goats.


Goose:  You don't want her in a Chinese shop.
Me:  A China shop.
Goose:  Oh.


Me:  Paulie, I need lil' gems.
Paul:  I got your lil' gems right here.
Me:  That's what i've heard.


Me:  Hey dude, another person google searched Ronald McDonald blowjob and landed on my blog.
Corey:  You're welcome.


below:maritess and eddie, bloody floor, caamal hearts, merrell and a quart of cola, gluten allergy flatbread, awesome cake!, ernster's nopalito drawing, foil burger, new knives, station, fire!, edward and ponder, v-day blue bottle, j-lo

expo.

I'm sitting there, trying to enjoy my dinner, and I can hear it. A sound that makes my ears perk up, my heartbeat increase, and my pupils dialate. No one else that i'm with hears it--between the sounds of plates being stacked, diners chatting, and and music playing softly in the background, how could you? For me, it's programmed, deep in my brain. The sound of a ticket printer. One of the most unique, screaming, ugly sounds in the kitchen. It's like a continuous loop, sometimes quick, sometimes long, but always demanding your attention...because at the other end of your printer is a POS with a cranky waiter who is trying to please a difficult guest. And once that ticket is in your hand, the countdown has started.

Being the expo usually means a few things:

1. You have worked hard, and that work has been recognized. Your chef trusts you.
2. The cooks respect you, and are willing to do what you say.
3. You know the kitchen, understand the timing, and can work the pace of an evening.

Unless:

1. You're a shithead that fell and/or conned their way onto the station. Your chef doesn't trust you, but believes in the resume you docotred up.
2. The cooks don't respect you, much less trust you. They want to do right by the guest, but if the opportunity presents itself to sabotage you, they will jump all over it.
3. You don't know the timing of the kitchen, and don't care. The cooks will conform to you, or else.

The idea, as the expo is to pace the whole evening out. You get a unique chance to try to push really hard (and possibly wear your cooks out) or to let the cooks determine the pace. (and possibly get far behind and eventually crash and burn.) You have to be able to speak, and make unpopular decisions, and let a cook know where their place is should things turn ugly. It means you are constantly counting--how many lamb racks are left, how long until that well done burger is done, and how many more chances your pantry cook gets before you tell him to go home and get his shit together. A good expo is able to befriend and dominate their staff all at once. They use the same language, all the time. They defend their kitchen when necessasary. And they can critique a cook without demolishing their confidence.

A bad expo just plows through the evening. They become a slave to their emotions, or fears, or the printer...or often they bow to all three. Tickets get lost, cooks get blamed, and at the end of it all is a mess of sweaty, mentally spent bodies that look at this person as the enemy. Going into another service with this person seems unimaginable. Their fear permeates the whole kitchen, and the poison from this fear turns into distrust, which leads to dissent, and eventually the dismantling of what could've been a strong crew. You look at the ruins of a bad night and have an endless list of 'where it all went wrong,' but no solid way to fix it.

Expoing isn't a privelege, it's an honor. It's an absurd amount of power and responsibility...and at the end of the night you need to be looking at what was good and what wasn't, and already be formulating your plan to be faster, smarter, better. You owe a debt to your chef, and also to the cooks--who will remember you down the line as a person who helped them become better. And in the end the collected knowledge you gain from working that printer will make you a more complete chef...and will make the cooks that you called tickets to want to follow wherever you go.



notes:

• Might be old news, but this article about Michael Carlson from Schwa is pretty interesting.
• One year at Nopa. My how things change.
• Trust me, I try, but the Mexican radio stations the boys play at work are fucking horrible.
• I don't do link exchanges. If I like your stuff, I link to it. Sometimes i'll even like it and forget to link it.
  
• Torta's drinking Pliny the Elder straight out of the bottle, with bad posture, and eating a pork chop and talking with their mouth full are pretty damn hot.
• Nicknames this week included El Scorpion and Sasquatch.
• Hi Kim Keme.
• If I did a podcast with some cook friends of mine talking about food and other assorted bullshit, would anyone download it?
• I'm interested in making real realtionships with people, not fake ones. So if im mean to you, at least you know you're getting the real thing.
• Don't mix Chinese food, nacho's, and whiskey.
• Nopalito. Believe the hype.
• Me on Top Chef. I think that would end poorly for both parties involved.
  
• You know your knife is sharp when it sticks in your cutting board.
  
• Apparently if you google search "Ronald McDonald blowjob" you will find a search result for this blog. Thanks Corey.
• Ryan Ernster, a server at Nopa was in Thrasher's Hall of Meat.

quotes and conversations.

"You see how fast I was? Like a balloon person!"
-Amy, who makes foil sculptures very quickly


"Yeah, it's called Bar 821 because that's what time it closes."
-Paulie. Used to drinking in NYC


"Don't do bong rips then do your taxes."
-Corey. Financial specialist.


"Hey dude, tommorrow when you come in make sure those sideburns are trimmed up."
-Corey. Standards keeper.


"You know what? Just pour it all over my ass."
-Merrell. A gal who loves her desserts.


"I'm compiling a list of songs that should never be played at a wedding. And this one's on there with White Wedding and I Touch Myself by the Divinyls."
-Amy. Wedding DJ.


"I was waiting for her boyfriend to go to the bathroom."
-Kaamal, who knows a lot of cute girls.


"Hey dude, it's got a milfy Susan Sarandon, a hot young Gina Davis, and a hunky Brad Pitt."
-Corey, who enjoys Thelma and Louise.


"You can do this with harnesses."
-Amy, who thinks sex in outer space would be easy.


"Did somebody say Power Exchange?"
-Corey. Sub.


"Hey dude, don't drop any more pies tonight."
-Corey. Who ate a piece of floor pie.


Hanak: Are you one of those tweekers?
Me: Twitter?
Hanak: Yeah.


Me: Are you gonna go to the movies with Al?
Corey: I'd rather take a sharp stick in the eye from Christian.

from top: merrell expo's, duck prosciutto, oro blanco, 7x7 pigs, smallest artichoke ever, turned chokes, after work, fancy grilled cheese, ravioli, boiling away, organic walk in, prep list, foil man and horse, lights outside nopa, yellowtail, arincino, amy!, worst fries ever, ponderfish, tamale, michelada, ceviche, menu, speez in full effect, linden blue bottle.