Can't go back might as well slog ahead

I have been knocked off my high horse and landed in a swamp.

Last fall I started helping an old friend with a food business.  I had long ago retired from professional cooking.  One of the last places I worked burnt any desire for the business right out of me.

I was a lead saute cook for a huge Italian place, running a 24 burner gas range.  They worked me 6 splits a week, 11-2, 4- whenever dinner slowed down. Obviously that left me no life but the restaurant, which was good because it didn't pay for much of a life.

Before that I had several long terms stints as a kitchen manager, always cooking on the "hot" side, expediting, etc.

I tried a couple times to get back into the business, but found I had no tolerance for the job anymore.

Until last fall, when I came out of retirement to help a friend.  I spent the off season helping develop new markets, playing secretary, designing menus, fixing food costs, and actually preparing food.

We barely scraped through the off season, I found myself facing a horrifying financial position in July. Out of the blue I had a call from a place I worked years ago. I readily agreed to go back.

My friend dropped me like a hot potato. I couldn't be available 24/7? Bye!

Then what happened? The new job was right out of kitchen nightmares.  I had worked the place for 7 years then a co-worker bought it 15 years ago. The changes were not all for the good.

I think it could all be blamed on the menu.  Enormous menu. I was told people had walked out because the menu was too big. Whether customers or employees or both I forgot to ask.

The menu was not several things done different ways. A good menu would offer haddock for example, fried, baked, broiled, chowder; then chicken, shrimp, beef...so you have a few ingredients to use different ways to keep product fresh.

This place it seemed every item on the menu required three or four things specific to that item. Now times that by 100, and you can imagine the amount of storage you need for all those ingredients. So he added many refridges and freezers.

Along that philospohy of more is better, the kitchen tools had been breeding for the last 15 years.  dozens of inserts for all those fridges- scoops, spatulas, spices. The place was stuffed to the ceiling.  That left a 18 inchgap to pass food to the waitstaff.

Most of the cooking equipment had been downsized to make room for the fridges. One busy breakfast they had to break out an electric griddle to cook pancakes- and they still took forever.

The owner and designer of the menu rarely worked in the kitchen. Only if he was called down if the line was busy.

Most of the help were relatives.  The son in Law seemed to worked endless days and hours without a break and it quickly became apparent that was the status quo.

I was hired for the pantry/salad girl position, and I hated it. I got to run the microwaves, and root out all the ingredients from the freezer and thaw them in the nuker for the hot side all the while making salads out of the cheapest nastiest produce on the market. 

The other hot side cook was 23 years old and spent the shift questioning everything I did from if I was sure the baked potato was done, to a fried chicken tender I dropped for him when he was in the weeds, to criticizing the size of my chopped tomatoes.

If he was an accomplished chef I would not have been so offended.


I lasted almost two weeks.

Finding myself once again in a financial jam, I heard the farm where I used to work was short on help, so I swallowed my pride and sent an inquiry about possible employment.

It turns out the boss is still holding a grudge from a year ago over my questioning the amount of shavings on a concrete barn floor used for horses.

I still refuse to budge.

That's three bridges I have destroyed in a month's time.  I just hope there's a few pieces floating around because I am up the creek without a paddle.

Any good energy or prayers sent my way will be greatly appreciated! Thanks.

That Boy can Jump!

Summer Soccer

The Firebird is doing well in soccer.  He has been playing a lot with the upperclassmen. Last night the underclassmen had a tournament and he volunteered for goalie for the first two games.  I think you can see in the last pic  why I don't like him playing goalie!

Musings

Funny how when an external source prevents you from doing something it becomes irresistable. Yes, I was the kid who had to stick a pebble up my nose after my mother said never stick a bean up my nose. What would happen? surely the pebble would come right out. Let's pick a bean-sized pebble and see.  Ooops.

My internet is down. I never realized how much I appreciate my excruciatingly slow internet connection until the phone line crashed.  The phone line is still hanging below the electric service wire, it's just dead dead dead. 

Why is it dead? I don't know that yet, I called the phone company over 23 hours ago and they said someone would be here by 6 pm tonight.  I guess they don't make service calls to their own equipment on Sundays.

Oh, I know it is on their end, I have already gone outside and checked the line at the source and a big fat nada.

We did have a big thunderstorm here on Saturday evening, so it is possible the line took a lightning strike. The power never blinked, but I suppose it is possible. My neighbor's line is working fine.

I was having internet withdrawals so I found public wifi and sat in the blazing sun trying to make out the screen on the craptop. I mean laptop.

I realized that I could actually watch some of those videos I had been wanting to check out. The highway traffic sounds competed with the speakers cranked to 100%. I crouched over the front seat with my ear pressed to the keyboard, straining to hear a long anticipated interview. "too many, too many"

I verified that I had indeed been the videographer of a music video recently posted on you tube but wasn't given credit.  I thought about contacting my old friend with a gentle reminder that I had been the camera person, but I had gladly handed over a copy of the vid years ago and the vid was grainy and shaky so perhaps I don't need to remind the world it was of my making...but it did bring back memories of old hopes and dreams.
****
The Willow is revisiting her love of fishing.  She caught ten fish in ten casts a few nights ago and broke her own record. She caught four fish on the same worm. She hooked all the fish perfectly. She caught several big largemouth bass, some pumpkinseed (or sunfish) a pickerel, and possibly a smallmouth bass.

We went over again last evening, and she didn't catch quite as many as ten, but she caught a few. One bass was so big I couldn't get my hand around it, and ended up cradling the bottom half with my barefeet. She hooked it in the jaw and I had a heck of a time getting the hook out. I finally used my left hand to hold the fish by the lip so I could work the hook with my right hand, and had to apply some force. That fish held still until the hook came out with a "snick" and then the King of the Pond gave a big flip out of my hands and feet and returned to the depths.

Then she had a couple of pumpkinseeds swallow the hook. I am not sure how a bass with a mouth I could fit my hand into would get hooked in the mouth but a small pumpkinseed can swallow the hook so deep I can just make out the little pink beads in the depths and no hope of reaching the hook shank with my needle-nose pliers.

We used to do as directed by the fishing regulations, cut the line close to the mouth and release the fish with the promise the hook will rust and the fish will be fine. Until we found the dying loon. I suspected fishing gear lodged in the gizzard. After all, loons eat fish, and what could be more tempting to a fish-eating bird, then a fish swimming erratically with a hook in it's stomach?
So we didn't fish at all last year.

We started fishing again this year, and early on performed an experiment with the first sunfish that swallowed a hook and verified that the fish weakened and died within a couple days. The protocol for us now is that if a fish swallows a hook, it will be quickly dispatched. The idea is to process them and utilize them for some good rather than poison the loons.

I have two sunfish in my fridge awaiting processing, or my food awaiting the absorption of fishy flavors.

We catch and release the rest, or as the local fisheries expert claims, harass the fish. My compassionate side feels a small twinge of guilt for teasing the hungry fish with a yummy squiggly worm and then yanking them out of their environment.

But them my parental instincts take over when I share my daughter's excitement when the bobber goes under and the line starts scree-scree-screeing, holding my breath while she tries to manoever whatever it is around the overhanging bushes and keep it away from the submerged log.
We get to see what sort of fish is living right across the street from us up close, and learn to treat
them with honor and respect as we handle them carefully and return them to the water.

I think it's our favorite part of Maine summer.

But I would like my internet back for my morning coffee.

I see that it has been quite awhile since I posted. In the meantime, blogger has a new interface, which is taking horrendously long to load at the moment.

I have been busy as a consultant for a friend's business.  That has involved a huge amount of my time and sapped my creativity right out the window.

I am in the process of letting the bird fly on their own, and finally had a breather this week to find "ME" again.

Our early spring drought ended. We have had rain, and rain, and more rain. Last weekend we had a storm that dumped 8 inches in places. This is the first time the sun has shown itself in a week.  My garden paths are  under water. Water is bubbling up in my driveway. The slugs are actually hiding under hay bales to get out of the rain.

The saplings are doing well, school is almost over for the year, and it is looking as though both will finish with high honors. :)

The Firebird is signed up for summer soccer. We have had a running battle over the state of the lawn and my perennial beds from constant soccer. I realized when he did a paper for Honors Reading & Lit on Lionel Messi that I was fighting a losing battle.  Gardening and soccer do not a good match make. Those water logged perennials are no match for a soccer ball.

*sigh*

March winds

The winter that wasn't. My prediction for tons of snow couldn't have been more off. We had 80F degree temps several days last week. Our road turned into a swamp. My driveway ate a truck. Willow saw a butterfly. I was bitten by mosquitoes. We saw a bunch of ladybugs.

My lilacs are budding. Crocus and snowdrops are blooming. Ticks are everywhere.

Then the North winds came down yesterday. The ground refroze last night. The chicken water froze all day long. The winds are gusting enough to shake the house.

No one knows what to make of the weather. MY goats keep coming into strong heat, including my senior doe that didn't even show much heat last fall. The migratory birds have returned.

I was a little late in getting the maple taps in. I put in 10 taps and got about 16 gallons of sap in two runs. That made about a quart of delicious maple syrup. That's an estimate since I put it up in fancy jelly jars and cool jars I saved, like the charming little squat better than bullion jars. I just boiled the jars for ten minutes to sterilize, and then poured the hot syrup in and inverted them until cool.

The heat last week put an end to the sap run. Maine Maple sunday was this past sunday, and I bet no one was running fresh sap through the evaporators! I left some poor trees with the taps in, cince it was supposed to come off cold again. I think I will pull them, though, since it takes many smoky hours boiling the sap down(if there is another run) for syrup and I am feeling lazy. :)

We are all actually hoping that we don't slip back into a typical Maine spring, because everything is so far ahead of season that a cold snap could be devastating.

02-21-2012

The third week in February already!

Our winter has been very unusual. The snowstorm before Hallowee'en was nearly the biggest snow we have had all winter. Three times we snow-scooped the driveways, and the intervening storms have been rain.

The ice has been awful this year. Or awful good depending on whether or not you are a fan of ice. The second snow-scooping storm fell on a good layer of ice, so it was nearly imnpossible to get any traction to push the scoop of snow.

I fell pretty good during that time. Or bad depending on if you are a fan of falling. My feet flew out and my head and elbow landed simultaneously to a very loud "Crack!"

I was sure it was my head that made the awful noise, but it didn't hurt as badly as my elbow. Owie, ow, ow, ow. I figured the pain would ease right off in a minute like what usually happens when you give a joint a hard rap, but it continued to hurt.

The point of the elbow is still tender to the touch three weeks later, so I guess I know where the explosive crack sound came from.

There are still patches of ice about. I scorn the pair of ice cleats a concerned friend gave me after my fall, and creep duck and flat footed over the remaining icy bits.

The winter that wasn't, that will be this year. And it follows the summer that wasn't. Looks like we are going to balance out eventually at mud season 12 months of the year.