Kitchen

 Working in a kitchen as a chef for many years I found that there's a type of organised madness, especially if you know the day is going to be a busy one. Morning always starts with a strong cup of coffee and a fag. The pace is quite slow at first, but I knew how long different foods took to prepare, and deep inside I knew that everything had to be ready in time for service. Another coffee, another fag.

The tempo is now getting more lively as the pace speeds up, a quick fag, and the adrenalin starts to kick in. Pots and pans all containing different types of food cooking away, sauces simmering, preparing garnishes, the ovens full of various things, another quite fag, all ways washing my hand before cooking again, smells to die for. If it's a buffet I would not have stopped for three days except for sleep. My only thoughts are about food and getting it to taste good. Then in a flash, it all comes together and I'm ready for service, a calm prevails, it's time to relax with a coffee and a fag.

 

"ORDER ON" then total madness in an organised manner, as a chef all I want is to get my food from my kitchen to the customer, my creations,  and I feel a sense of proudness as it leaves the kitchen. There is loads of shouting, mainly chefs communicating or shouting at the waiters or kitchen porters, banging of utensils, heat, sweat, fire, and occasional burnt smell, stress, and madness.  Then quiet as if you have fallen off a cliff backwards and you're floating softly to the ground with service over it's time for that well-earned fag.
(I used to own a French restaurant called "Caf'e Lalique")

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