Winter will never be over, but I'm over time; in the new eternal now I'm opening up to space. Can a woman blog without a room of her own? The disparate contents of my winter include apples months from the tree and as many texts as I can muster. When they pile up too much, we'll use them as wrappings, burn them for heat; a thousand and one things. At work the general manager logs in to OpenTable and gleefully calls out, for my benefit, the gaping openings that evening at my former place of employment. While my new restaurant is not, we are reminded, "recession-proof" per se, it is surely "recession-resistant." In the cramped kitchen carrying plates I warn "behind, behind," even when I am in fact in front or on the side of someone. A French guest murmurs "merci" to ever-jovial Jermaine, who responds, "derriere!"
In these lean loanless times I can't think of a thing to give up for Lent; the state of the seas being what it is, even Fish Fridays seem decadent. At Whole Foods I helped a shrunken old man reach the last tin of sardines in the back of the shelf, which made me feel better about having picked up a container of grapes, walked around eating out of it for half an hour, and then put it back as if I had decided not to buy it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Top 10 failed work pick up lines
10. Hi! I would love to be a jello shot girl! I'm really fun and can sell ANYTHING!
9. I'm friendly, professional, and excellent at checking names off guest lists.
8. I'm 23, live near Union Square, and traffic in words, sex, and cash money.
7. I am highly organized and have excellent communication skills, as well as a taste for the exotic.
6. I have restaurant experience and a superior phone voice.
5. My knowledge of French will be especially useful for tourists who will be flooding your store as the dollar collapses.
4. I am also interested in doing jeans research.
3. I'm not intimidated at the prospect of hordes of frat boys.
2. I'm fascinated by the semiotics of fine dining.
1. My fridge looks like a garden.
But there's still hope; if Billy calls back, I'll be serving jello shots next weekend.
9. I'm friendly, professional, and excellent at checking names off guest lists.
8. I'm 23, live near Union Square, and traffic in words, sex, and cash money.
7. I am highly organized and have excellent communication skills, as well as a taste for the exotic.
6. I have restaurant experience and a superior phone voice.
5. My knowledge of French will be especially useful for tourists who will be flooding your store as the dollar collapses.
4. I am also interested in doing jeans research.
3. I'm not intimidated at the prospect of hordes of frat boys.
2. I'm fascinated by the semiotics of fine dining.
1. My fridge looks like a garden.
But there's still hope; if Billy calls back, I'll be serving jello shots next weekend.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
pharma-con
Indisposed by one illness, I troll the internet for information about various other things that are wrong with me. Why, even in LA, where il y a beaucoup de circulation, do my fingers turn bright white in the cold? The internet doesn't know, but recommends mittens, Viagra, or considering moving to a warmer climate.
My antibiotics cost $37 per pill, and they don't even get me high. Nothing's real in the modern age, except Mad Men, which isn't modern, or real. Next thing you know they'll farm Akon out to the computer.
My antibiotics cost $37 per pill, and they don't even get me high. Nothing's real in the modern age, except Mad Men, which isn't modern, or real. Next thing you know they'll farm Akon out to the computer.
Friday, January 2, 2009
truffaux
In the New Year I'm trying to be more reductive in my thinking; surely the year will only get older. For example, which is superior? "Truffle Hog: Keen sense of smell; Innate ability to sniff out truffles; Tendency to eat truffles once found. Truffle Dog: Keen sense of smell; Must be trained; Easier to control; may urinate on truffles." The female pig's natural affinity for truffles is, unsurprisingly, directly linked to her tendency to eat them upon discovery, because they smell like pheremones and she will confuse alimentary satiety with sexual satisfaction. So is truffle oil made from pig pheremones? Which is the original, and which the copy? What would Judith Butler say? The truffles respond synecdochally: "We shall by morning / Inherit the earth. / Our foot's in the door." Verily, such fungus may one day eat us.
My linguistic landscape is increasingly peopled by those syntactical leaps that approximate what grammarians might call anacoluthon, whatever that is. I feel, perhaps illogically, like a logical scandal. Having this irregular schedule was fun at first, but now it's getting ridiculous; my alarm clock is just for decoration.
My linguistic landscape is increasingly peopled by those syntactical leaps that approximate what grammarians might call anacoluthon, whatever that is. I feel, perhaps illogically, like a logical scandal. Having this irregular schedule was fun at first, but now it's getting ridiculous; my alarm clock is just for decoration.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Who said it?
Foxwoods Fiend or Foodie at Fifteen.
1. I had never smoked. I'd heard it's addictive, that once you start you never stop. Supposedly it relaxes you, makes you feel good. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I'm talking about smoking on a grill.
2. I realize that a place like Masa isn’t really trying to achieve the same meal experience as Nobu and that the appeal of Masa is more in its subtle flavoring and amazing cuts of fish (something as over-the-top flavorful and decadent as the Nobu miso cod lettuce wraps, for instance, would be very out of place). But still, I think that there were too many items on the menu that just didn’t really do it for me.
3. So here I am, sitting at my computer, deep in food coma. I'm back where I was last year, and the year before- asking myshttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifelf if I really needed that extra helping of pie. As I contemplate Thanksgiving, I determine the answer to be yes. My life wouldn't be the same without that gooey mess of fat and sugar that is pecan pie.
4. I lost credit card roulette and the bill was $3400. $3400 for 4 people. Ansky, Krantz, and I got the ome beef which was an extra $140 per person (definitely worth it) and we had a ton of sake, but the bill was still ridiculous.
5. He told me he could only eat one duck confit leg, but he could eat a whole turkey. "I've accepted duck confit. I know it, and I'm over it" he said. "I guess I don't know it, I could eat five duck confit legs" I said. "Yea well you still get hard-ons in math class." I told him I get hard-ons when I eat duck confit.
6. I got the call from the dean of admissions as I was picking up my pizza at CPK in the airport, so between getting into HLS and getting to eat a Thai Chicken pizza it was definitely one of the better layovers in recent memory.
Answer Bank: Foxwoods Fiend, Foodie at Fifteen
1. I had never smoked. I'd heard it's addictive, that once you start you never stop. Supposedly it relaxes you, makes you feel good. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I'm talking about smoking on a grill.
2. I realize that a place like Masa isn’t really trying to achieve the same meal experience as Nobu and that the appeal of Masa is more in its subtle flavoring and amazing cuts of fish (something as over-the-top flavorful and decadent as the Nobu miso cod lettuce wraps, for instance, would be very out of place). But still, I think that there were too many items on the menu that just didn’t really do it for me.
3. So here I am, sitting at my computer, deep in food coma. I'm back where I was last year, and the year before- asking myshttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifelf if I really needed that extra helping of pie. As I contemplate Thanksgiving, I determine the answer to be yes. My life wouldn't be the same without that gooey mess of fat and sugar that is pecan pie.
4. I lost credit card roulette and the bill was $3400. $3400 for 4 people. Ansky, Krantz, and I got the ome beef which was an extra $140 per person (definitely worth it) and we had a ton of sake, but the bill was still ridiculous.
5. He told me he could only eat one duck confit leg, but he could eat a whole turkey. "I've accepted duck confit. I know it, and I'm over it" he said. "I guess I don't know it, I could eat five duck confit legs" I said. "Yea well you still get hard-ons in math class." I told him I get hard-ons when I eat duck confit.
6. I got the call from the dean of admissions as I was picking up my pizza at CPK in the airport, so between getting into HLS and getting to eat a Thai Chicken pizza it was definitely one of the better layovers in recent memory.
Answer Bank: Foxwoods Fiend, Foodie at Fifteen
recess!
I wasn't fired per se, but my employers chose not to continue their relationship with me; hard times. En plus, I'm out of local lemongrass, and the Greenmarket, cruelly, sold all its kabochas to Thomas Keller. On the plus side, I'm not nonplussed. I embrace opportunity, I apply to all the cocinas mexicanas refinadas in a two-block radius of my apartment (there are three). I bought expensive leggings that look like fish scales, is that kosher in this economic climate? I should scale back.
I'm going to LA to convalesce from the valence I've constructed these past few weeks. Provisional itinerary includes walking to and from the Valley, running up and down hills, reconnecting with my roots however rhizomatic, circumlocuting with Abram, making a circuit court of the city...I think that's it.
I'm going to LA to convalesce from the valence I've constructed these past few weeks. Provisional itinerary includes walking to and from the Valley, running up and down hills, reconnecting with my roots however rhizomatic, circumlocuting with Abram, making a circuit court of the city...I think that's it.
Monday, December 1, 2008
empty november
At work, I learn the "dance." I stand at the "pass," I get my wet wipes, I scan for fingerprints or stray sprays of "périgourdine." When I "drop," I "hug" the guest warmly between quotation marks. I come home truffle-infused.
In this (sous-vide) pressure-cooker environment, I try to inject levity as artfully as "sauce Mornay" is piped into pâte à choux:
Artless Kitchen Server: So the "tagliatelle" is basically blanched celery root sliced into "ribbons," so it looks like pasta, then...
Me: So it's not tagliatelle per se...
AKS: Well it's the "celeriac tagliatelle"...
I've quickly learned this is not a good idea, and to focus instead on my "intensity" and "finesse." The confidentiality agreement I signed, while not per se invalid per se, I'm pretty sure amounts to nothing; what if I just always put the restaurant's name in quotes, so as to differentiate the real restaurant from my own interpretation of it?
In this (sous-vide) pressure-cooker environment, I try to inject levity as artfully as "sauce Mornay" is piped into pâte à choux:
Artless Kitchen Server: So the "tagliatelle" is basically blanched celery root sliced into "ribbons," so it looks like pasta, then...
Me: So it's not tagliatelle per se...
AKS: Well it's the "celeriac tagliatelle"...
I've quickly learned this is not a good idea, and to focus instead on my "intensity" and "finesse." The confidentiality agreement I signed, while not per se invalid per se, I'm pretty sure amounts to nothing; what if I just always put the restaurant's name in quotes, so as to differentiate the real restaurant from my own interpretation of it?
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