Oh, my poor neglected blog. Thanks to a nudge from my coworkers, here I am at last. For whatever reason in the last few months I've suffered from a self-imposed, increased pressure to write quality material that people can relate to. Mix that with general blog laziness, being sick four times in five weeks, and a lovely Christmas trip to North Carolina where I did nothing but watch movies and eat pound cake and Chick Fil A, and ye here blog goes without company for too long.
Unfortunately, I really miss writing, so let that be my first resolution of 2010: Think less, write more.
So what have I learned in this past year? I'm well into my second year of cooking professionally, and things are only looking up. I've been going into work on my own time on one of my days off to trail the day kitchen manager, and it's been so eye-opening to see things from beginning to end. PM cooks are pretty spoiled at my restaurant, as a majority of the big prep gets taken care of for us during the day--butchering, portioning, braises, cures, terrines, sausages and other charcuterie, burger prep, breads, pastas, some sauces... nearly all of it is done in-house, and most of it is taken care of by the swift hands of the day crew, sous chefs and exec chef. There's definitely a good amount of prep for the evening cooks to take care of, but I think most of us would agree that we have it pretty cush.
It makes for a smooth system, but how do you learn and grow in this environment? One of the biggest lessons I learned the hard way this year was to never get comfortable. Comfortable leads to plateauing, which leads to complacency and oftentimes a shitty attitude. And, trust me, NO ONE wants to work with a cook with a shitty attitude. My point is, I'm learning to make a conscious effort to stretch my limits and my comfort zone.
Confession: Charcuterie intimidates the shit out of me. I don't even know why. Maybe it's the history of it, or how finicky it seems, or the fact that I've just been spoiled by working at two places that did almost all of their sausages, cures and terrines in house, and the people doing the charcuterie were crazy good. But I only see one solution: Learn to make it. Conquer the fear. Push my limits, scare myself a little, make some mistakes and move on. That's the only way we can get better, right?
Things aren't always what we hope for, but instead of complaining and doing nothing, I'm learning to make the best of it. I remember one of my classmates in culinary school who had this extraordinary ability to complain about everything. The kid clearly had raw talent, but he took complaining to some next level shit. Everything was always too much or not enough. Too easy, too hard, too much work, not enough to do; no matter what the situation, this guy managed to see the negative in everything. Worst of all, it was permeating--the attitude just ate at your nerves until you could cut the tension with a knife. This leads me to possibly the biggest lesson I learned this year: We can complain all we want to, but in the end we're responsible for ourselves. Getting bored on my station? Try different tasks, ask for more, trail another station. Giant prep list? Work faster and request help. Does shit suck? Then change it. It seems so unfairly simple to say, but there it is.
I'm no saint. I don't claim to be perfect, by any means, and I have my bad days. I've definitely fit the complainer description well in the past. But I'm mostly in what I'd call a happy place right now. Things are fluid and fun, my coworkers are pretty awesome, and though I get stuck in station tunnel-vision from time to time, the extra days and new projects help keep me flexible and challenged.
Other cool things that happened in 2009:
- My mom turned 60 (happy birthday Mom!)
- The third anniversary of my surgery, and I'm fit as a fiddle (despite the winter colds!)
- Bought a condo!
- Went to San Francisco and LA by myself, had an amazing time and ate some of the best food of my life
- Made some of the best food I've done yet
- Met some amazing cooking (and non-cooking) related people in Portland and elsewhere
- Obtained a 17-year-old cat named Whimpy, who was a friend's childhood house cat. Spry old guy, and a biggun too, but what a ridiculously sweet thing. I was already basically a cat lady before I got the cat, and now it's official.
This year, I'm hoping to narrow my career focus a bit. I'll let you know how that goes. I'm also hoping to travel: San Francisco is calling my name again, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for Taiwan and/or Europe. And I'll write more, yes!
Things are good, friends, things are good.
Showing posts with label san francisco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label san francisco. Show all posts
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Monday, August 24, 2009
San Francisco, Part the Second
Go here to read Part One of my San Francisco adventures.
I finally got around to tackling the organization of all the photos I took in San Francisco and LA, thanks to my first day to myself alone in my house in what seems like forever. I had an immense blast on my trip, but I think it says something about how happy I am in Portland that I was surprised with a bit of homesickness by day six or seven.
There's so much going on right now that I want to talk about, including officially starting at my new job last week, but I want to devote a good blog post to that topic so it'll have to wait. Suffice it to say I'm really enjoying being busy again, though my body can definitely feel the effects of eating three rounded meals a day for a week, rather than grazing intermittently and then snarfing down a cold sandwich as fast as I can while standing over a garbage can. I have vacation padding going on for sure.
Onwards, San Francisco!
My solo meal at Coi Restaurant was an incredible, mind-blowing experience that I'm having terrible difficulty summing up in written words.
Despite being (or maybe because of the fact that I was) the only solo diner in the restaurant and the youngest by at least 10 years, everyone from the host, my server, the sommelier and Daniel Patterson himself was incredibly warm and generous. In fact, I received a few extra courses and glasses that I didn't order. Maybe I'll barrage you with descriptors and photos a post or two down the road, but for now I'll say this dish changed my life:
soft-cooked egg, creme fraiche, chives, caviar and brioche
Listed on the menu as "California caviar, traditional garnishes," taking my first bite of this resulted in an overwhelming visceral response that I've never had before. The sweetness of the egg, white and yolk almost the same velvety consistency, the salty crunch of the brioche, the tartness of the creme fraiche and the briny popping of the caviar... it was almost too much, and in the best way possible. I took a lot of notes during my dinner, and of the egg I wrote, "Egg - 63 degrees C - 45 min to 1 hr, circulator in shell. FREAKING OUT. NEAR TEARS." It's true, I nearly cried. And then I blessed Daniel Patterson with a verbal-diarrhea-like spout of praise for his egg. Poor dude was just trying to deliver the next course and got showered with all sorts of "I just have to tell you that, well, the egg I just ate? OHMYGOD. Amazing. I don't even know what to say, I've never had an egg like that in my life!" Etcera etcera yammer yammer.
At the end of the meal, even though I was clearly crazy and couldn't stop yammering, they let me in the kitchen!
That's a clean-ass kitchen
Sarah, my server, introduced me to all the cooks as "a fellow cook from Portland" and they warmed up right away. The cooks were super-nice and the guy with the beard (sous chef maybe?) explained all the stations to me and how they recently redid the middle line, general nerdy cook chat. Soooo awesome. I cabbed it home, riding on a cook nerd high.
One thing I garnered from this trip, especially during all my solo time in SF, was how much the cook brotherhood/sisterhood carries over from city to city. There was tremendous respect for what's going on in Portland, culinarily speaking, and I had some awesome resources thanks to Chad, Richie, Matt, Mike (my gracious host in SF) and every server and bartender I met in SF.
The next morning I woke up determined to make it a four meal day. Breakfast at Tartine was a great start, and totally worth the 20 minute wait in a line out the door:
Hello, morning bun and ham and cheese croissant!
A relaxing morning spent perusing the sidewalk traffic on the Mission, and then I met Mike downtown at Katana Ya for shio ramen with BBQ pork:
love me some noodles
and then spent the afternoon wandering around Golden Gate Park:
look! I found hippies!
because I felt like it
Can I just say that having an iPhone makes traveling alone the best thing ever? I had a little too much fun getting lost in the jungle-like backwoods trails of Golden Gate Park and thanks to the GPS made my way out with nary a scratch, found the best transit route to my dinner destination and hopped the bus back to the Mission in half an hour's time.
My destination? Early dinner at Delfina:
Calamari and white beans? Yes please!
I sat solo at the bar without a reservation and must have gotten there at just the right time because 10 minutes after I was seated the house was packed. I got a primo seat next to the kitchen and watched four women rock the hot line:
I love this shit
...while I chatted with the friendliest bartender ever, talking about Portland and cooking and whatnot. She surprised me with a plate of house-cured anchovies, courtesy of the kitchen. Definitely a great little meal.
A post-Delfina trip to Bi-Rite Creamery resulted in a marvelous scoop of Ricanelas: cinnamon ice cream with Snickerdoodle cookie crumbles (!!!). Their other much-touted flavors, the salty caramel in particular, proved less than impressive. I've been spoiled by this guy's ice cream for too long now, and he sets the standard by which I judge all mint chip, salty caramel and butter pecan flavors. I have yet to meet its equal.
Then Mike and I met Matt at Nopa for a highly anticipated late-night meal:
Mike repping East coast style, ready to devour the Nopa pork chop
I was still sated from dinner number one, but between the three of us we handled some flatbread, olive oil poached tuna, corn, tagine and pork chop nicely. That pork chop especially rocked my world. I only wished that I had been hungry enough to devour what looked like an awesome burger, and I also regret not saying hello to the kitchen. By the time we were done, however, I was suffering some major food coma and the kitchen was in full clean-up/shut-down mode. Next time, I promise!
I slept off the food coma and after a solid 5.5 hours of sleep crawled my way up and at 'em to the Ferry Plaza Saturday Farmer's Market:
peppers!
Though the place was already bustling, I arrived early enough to beat the crazy tourist contingency and wandered the stalls for about an hour before I started to get claustrophobic. Fortunately I found respite on this "public viewing" platform that sits above the ferry pier itself. Not too many people seem to know about it, as it was practically empty:
Did I mention the weather was stunningly gorgeous during my entire trip?
I sat under the sun, looking out on the water and over the stalls of the market, and enjoyed my last few hours in San Francisco. I closed the book with porchetta from Il Cane Rosso, packed my belongings, and BART-ed my way to SFO...but not before grabbing some goodies for the flight to LAX:
Fuck yeah, chicharrones and peach/nectarine!
I hope to make it back to the city before the end of the year. I was worried four days on my own would be too much time, but it turned out instead to not be enough. Nicely done, San Francisco; you have a lovely city and you definitely lived up to the hype.
next stop, Los Angeles!
I finally got around to tackling the organization of all the photos I took in San Francisco and LA, thanks to my first day to myself alone in my house in what seems like forever. I had an immense blast on my trip, but I think it says something about how happy I am in Portland that I was surprised with a bit of homesickness by day six or seven.
There's so much going on right now that I want to talk about, including officially starting at my new job last week, but I want to devote a good blog post to that topic so it'll have to wait. Suffice it to say I'm really enjoying being busy again, though my body can definitely feel the effects of eating three rounded meals a day for a week, rather than grazing intermittently and then snarfing down a cold sandwich as fast as I can while standing over a garbage can. I have vacation padding going on for sure.
Onwards, San Francisco!
My solo meal at Coi Restaurant was an incredible, mind-blowing experience that I'm having terrible difficulty summing up in written words.
Despite being (or maybe because of the fact that I was) the only solo diner in the restaurant and the youngest by at least 10 years, everyone from the host, my server, the sommelier and Daniel Patterson himself was incredibly warm and generous. In fact, I received a few extra courses and glasses that I didn't order. Maybe I'll barrage you with descriptors and photos a post or two down the road, but for now I'll say this dish changed my life:
soft-cooked egg, creme fraiche, chives, caviar and brioche
Listed on the menu as "California caviar, traditional garnishes," taking my first bite of this resulted in an overwhelming visceral response that I've never had before. The sweetness of the egg, white and yolk almost the same velvety consistency, the salty crunch of the brioche, the tartness of the creme fraiche and the briny popping of the caviar... it was almost too much, and in the best way possible. I took a lot of notes during my dinner, and of the egg I wrote, "Egg - 63 degrees C - 45 min to 1 hr, circulator in shell. FREAKING OUT. NEAR TEARS." It's true, I nearly cried. And then I blessed Daniel Patterson with a verbal-diarrhea-like spout of praise for his egg. Poor dude was just trying to deliver the next course and got showered with all sorts of "I just have to tell you that, well, the egg I just ate? OHMYGOD. Amazing. I don't even know what to say, I've never had an egg like that in my life!" Etcera etcera yammer yammer.
At the end of the meal, even though I was clearly crazy and couldn't stop yammering, they let me in the kitchen!
That's a clean-ass kitchen
Sarah, my server, introduced me to all the cooks as "a fellow cook from Portland" and they warmed up right away. The cooks were super-nice and the guy with the beard (sous chef maybe?) explained all the stations to me and how they recently redid the middle line, general nerdy cook chat. Soooo awesome. I cabbed it home, riding on a cook nerd high.
One thing I garnered from this trip, especially during all my solo time in SF, was how much the cook brotherhood/sisterhood carries over from city to city. There was tremendous respect for what's going on in Portland, culinarily speaking, and I had some awesome resources thanks to Chad, Richie, Matt, Mike (my gracious host in SF) and every server and bartender I met in SF.
The next morning I woke up determined to make it a four meal day. Breakfast at Tartine was a great start, and totally worth the 20 minute wait in a line out the door:
Hello, morning bun and ham and cheese croissant!
A relaxing morning spent perusing the sidewalk traffic on the Mission, and then I met Mike downtown at Katana Ya for shio ramen with BBQ pork:
love me some noodles
and then spent the afternoon wandering around Golden Gate Park:
look! I found hippies!
because I felt like it
Can I just say that having an iPhone makes traveling alone the best thing ever? I had a little too much fun getting lost in the jungle-like backwoods trails of Golden Gate Park and thanks to the GPS made my way out with nary a scratch, found the best transit route to my dinner destination and hopped the bus back to the Mission in half an hour's time.
My destination? Early dinner at Delfina:
Calamari and white beans? Yes please!
I sat solo at the bar without a reservation and must have gotten there at just the right time because 10 minutes after I was seated the house was packed. I got a primo seat next to the kitchen and watched four women rock the hot line:
I love this shit
...while I chatted with the friendliest bartender ever, talking about Portland and cooking and whatnot. She surprised me with a plate of house-cured anchovies, courtesy of the kitchen. Definitely a great little meal.
A post-Delfina trip to Bi-Rite Creamery resulted in a marvelous scoop of Ricanelas: cinnamon ice cream with Snickerdoodle cookie crumbles (!!!). Their other much-touted flavors, the salty caramel in particular, proved less than impressive. I've been spoiled by this guy's ice cream for too long now, and he sets the standard by which I judge all mint chip, salty caramel and butter pecan flavors. I have yet to meet its equal.
Then Mike and I met Matt at Nopa for a highly anticipated late-night meal:
Mike repping East coast style, ready to devour the Nopa pork chop
I was still sated from dinner number one, but between the three of us we handled some flatbread, olive oil poached tuna, corn, tagine and pork chop nicely. That pork chop especially rocked my world. I only wished that I had been hungry enough to devour what looked like an awesome burger, and I also regret not saying hello to the kitchen. By the time we were done, however, I was suffering some major food coma and the kitchen was in full clean-up/shut-down mode. Next time, I promise!
I slept off the food coma and after a solid 5.5 hours of sleep crawled my way up and at 'em to the Ferry Plaza Saturday Farmer's Market:
peppers!
Though the place was already bustling, I arrived early enough to beat the crazy tourist contingency and wandered the stalls for about an hour before I started to get claustrophobic. Fortunately I found respite on this "public viewing" platform that sits above the ferry pier itself. Not too many people seem to know about it, as it was practically empty:
Did I mention the weather was stunningly gorgeous during my entire trip?
I sat under the sun, looking out on the water and over the stalls of the market, and enjoyed my last few hours in San Francisco. I closed the book with porchetta from Il Cane Rosso, packed my belongings, and BART-ed my way to SFO...but not before grabbing some goodies for the flight to LAX:
Fuck yeah, chicharrones and peach/nectarine!
I hope to make it back to the city before the end of the year. I was worried four days on my own would be too much time, but it turned out instead to not be enough. Nicely done, San Francisco; you have a lovely city and you definitely lived up to the hype.
next stop, Los Angeles!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
I'm on vacation, dammit!
I know I've been awfully slow about writing up the rest of my SF trip, but I have some things for a new blog post in the works that hopefully will come to fruition in the next few days. In the meantime, I've been relaxing with wonderful friends in LA and eating just as much as (if not more than) I was in SF. Can I just say it's a funny feeling to be sitting down for rounded meals on a daily basis? 'Cause it totally is.
I'm working on getting my photos and notes all put together so I can share the rest of my trip with ya'll, including a visit to Osteria Mozza from which we just got home. Holy effing raviolo. Stunning, really.
Los Angeles has been a mix of nostalgia and newness, along with realizing how far I've come since I last lived here, three years ago. The inception of this blog was during that time in LA, and it was a formative time for me. I've loved being here during this visit, and seeing some of my best friends in the world has been amazing, but I'm not gonna lie... I'm getting homesick for Portland.
I can't wait to officially get started at my new job, and in celebration of the new place, I bought this necklace that I found at Popkiller in Little Tokyo. I still can't believe I found it, it's so perfect, and it may give you a hint as to where I'm working...
meat cleaver as seen by Osteria candlelight
See ya soon, Portland. It's been too long.
I'm working on getting my photos and notes all put together so I can share the rest of my trip with ya'll, including a visit to Osteria Mozza from which we just got home. Holy effing raviolo. Stunning, really.
Los Angeles has been a mix of nostalgia and newness, along with realizing how far I've come since I last lived here, three years ago. The inception of this blog was during that time in LA, and it was a formative time for me. I've loved being here during this visit, and seeing some of my best friends in the world has been amazing, but I'm not gonna lie... I'm getting homesick for Portland.
I can't wait to officially get started at my new job, and in celebration of the new place, I bought this necklace that I found at Popkiller in Little Tokyo. I still can't believe I found it, it's so perfect, and it may give you a hint as to where I'm working...
meat cleaver as seen by Osteria candlelight
See ya soon, Portland. It's been too long.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Embracing the tourist in me
Dear San Francisco,
I'm totally in like with you. Bashful tourist too cool to take photos, be damned!
It started with a picnic at Mission Dolores Park:
strawberries from Bi-Rite and quiche and zucchini bread from Tartine
and, later that evening, dinner at Fish and Farm, helmed by the awesome and infinitely talented Chad Newton:
the best gnocchi of my life thus far? Very possibly
The next day I met my new friend Matt at Ryan Farr's stand, 4505 Meats, at the Ferry Building Thursday Market:
where I quickly ordered (and devoured the crap out of) a Zilla dog combo:
Hot dog with kimchee, scallions and pork rinds. Yes please!
and wandered around the market stalls ogling the summer produce:
I spent the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art, whose rooftop contains a Blue Bottle Cafe, where I had a most delicious New Orleans style iced coffee. I was positively blown away by the current Richard Avedon exhibit:
a very morose Marilyn
as well as an exhibit featuring Robert Frank's "The Americans". Seeing those photos shook me to my core. I left SF MOMA thinking, 'Holy shit, these people made something incredible. I want to do something, I want to create something, I want to make something!'
I met an old dodgeball friend for a drink at 15 Romolo:
that there is a steep road to navigate in heels, I'll tell ya what
before heading to Coi for what was one of the most transformative dining experiences of my life. The tale will have to wait for the moment, as I have some Bi-Rite Creamery to get to before heading to Nopa for late dinner.
to be continued...
I'm totally in like with you. Bashful tourist too cool to take photos, be damned!
It started with a picnic at Mission Dolores Park:
strawberries from Bi-Rite and quiche and zucchini bread from Tartine
and, later that evening, dinner at Fish and Farm, helmed by the awesome and infinitely talented Chad Newton:
the best gnocchi of my life thus far? Very possibly
The next day I met my new friend Matt at Ryan Farr's stand, 4505 Meats, at the Ferry Building Thursday Market:
where I quickly ordered (and devoured the crap out of) a Zilla dog combo:
Hot dog with kimchee, scallions and pork rinds. Yes please!
and wandered around the market stalls ogling the summer produce:
I spent the afternoon at the Museum of Modern Art, whose rooftop contains a Blue Bottle Cafe, where I had a most delicious New Orleans style iced coffee. I was positively blown away by the current Richard Avedon exhibit:
a very morose Marilyn
as well as an exhibit featuring Robert Frank's "The Americans". Seeing those photos shook me to my core. I left SF MOMA thinking, 'Holy shit, these people made something incredible. I want to do something, I want to create something, I want to make something!'
I met an old dodgeball friend for a drink at 15 Romolo:
that there is a steep road to navigate in heels, I'll tell ya what
before heading to Coi for what was one of the most transformative dining experiences of my life. The tale will have to wait for the moment, as I have some Bi-Rite Creamery to get to before heading to Nopa for late dinner.
to be continued...
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Wearing flowers in my hair.
Firstly, why aren't all airports as good as PDX? Besides the free wi-fi and public transit that drops you off in the terminal, the people are so damn nice. While I was in the line for security, a TSA employee who looked like he could seriously beat someone up said, in the calmest grandpa tone possible, "Don't worry guys, you're almost there. Just hang in there, everybody." I could have hugged him, for serious.
Anyway.
Hey guess what? I'm in San Francisco!
Taken mere minutes ago... it's frickin' gorgeous today
More specifically, I just plopped my luggage on the gorgeous wood floor next to the gorgeous couch on which I'll be crashing. Said couch belongs to a friend of a friend who lives in a choice spot in the Mission, and is being generous enough to let me stay until I leave on Saturday. We're headed to Fish & Farm tonight, and until then I'm gonna get me some fruit from Bi-Rite, maybe something nomnomy from Tartine, and sit in Dolores Park and people watch.
Anybody in the area, feel free Twitter message me! I'm @ingridc.
Anyway.
Hey guess what? I'm in San Francisco!
Taken mere minutes ago... it's frickin' gorgeous today
More specifically, I just plopped my luggage on the gorgeous wood floor next to the gorgeous couch on which I'll be crashing. Said couch belongs to a friend of a friend who lives in a choice spot in the Mission, and is being generous enough to let me stay until I leave on Saturday. We're headed to Fish & Farm tonight, and until then I'm gonna get me some fruit from Bi-Rite, maybe something nomnomy from Tartine, and sit in Dolores Park and people watch.
Anybody in the area, feel free Twitter message me! I'm @ingridc.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Comfortable
I'm not saying this to shake you up
I'm just saying this to wake you up
Its all good when we making love
All I ask is dont take our love
for granted, its granted
My love for you is real
Baby if you don't love me somebody else will
So baby girl don't you ever get too comfortable
So sayeth the all-too-wise Lil' Wayne in his track, "Comfortable".
(Yes, I just quoted Lil' Wayne. Stay with me here.)
Anyone who knows me reasonably well knows I have a place in my heart (and on my iPod) for so-bad-it's-good pop rap, and Lil' Wayne made it into the rotation about a month ago. I'll be sitting on the bus listening to this track, and every time I hear those lyrics I can't help but think that it's the restaurant kitchen singing me these words.
Crazy? Maybe a little. A kitchen will nurture you, but you're in danger the moment you become too comfortable. If you don't want it, "baby, if you don't love me somebody else will": there are hundreds of cooks ready and willing with deep resumes and sharp knives waiting to take your coveted spot. This is something I've constantly reminded myself of when I get down, when things get tough, when the everyday grind starts to feel monotonous.
A few weeks ago, I passed the one year mark of being at my current restaurant. I've loved and been loved, I've hurt and been hurt, and something keeps driving me. It's been an amazing journey, and one only needs to look about a year back on this silly blog to see how far I've come. I can't help but be a little proud of what I've achieved; moving from pantry to grill station within months of being in my first professional kitchen, being part of the team that garnered Restaurant of the Year from an influential Portland food writer, even the everyday stuff--putting up a perfect medium-rare and sending it off with the feeling in your gut that it's gonna make someone really fucking happy.
I'm still incredibly green, however, and I'll be the first to tell you that there is an untold amount of talented cooks out there who could do my job better, cleaner, faster. I'm working on becoming one of those better, cleaner, faster cooks. I'm eager to keep learning, progressing, moving forward, and though I've been through a lot in the past year, I know I've still barely scratched the surface.
Why all the waxing poetic? Well, I've been incredibly blessed by opportunity in the last few years, and a new one came to me recently to take a position that's opening up in another great Portland restaurant. It's a kitchen that I admire and frequent and whose food feels familiar yet exciting. Best of all, I'll be shaking up the comfort zone and trying something new. I'll be working at my current place for the next month and making my transition to the new spot in August.
Even more exciting news: I plan on taking a little sabbatical between jobs, wherein I plan on traveling to San Francisco and Los Angeles for a couple of weeks to eat a lot, visit friends, and stage in various restaurants. It occurred to me not too long ago that I've only ever staged in two restaurants, both of which I staged for employment rather than just for my own curiosity. I'm looking forward to seeing how other kitchens run, what the rest of the culinary world has to offer outside of Portland, and what the big deal is with the San Francisco culinary scene. Hopefully visit my internet buddy at Nopa. I've never actually visited San Francisco properly as an adult, and it seems highly overdue.
I'd love to hear some suggestions for dining and/or staging in SF and LA! Send 'em on, kids.
This summer is turning out to be an equally awesome, scary and exciting time in my life. I hope it stays this way.
I'm just saying this to wake you up
Its all good when we making love
All I ask is dont take our love
for granted, its granted
My love for you is real
Baby if you don't love me somebody else will
So baby girl don't you ever get too comfortable
So sayeth the all-too-wise Lil' Wayne in his track, "Comfortable".
(Yes, I just quoted Lil' Wayne. Stay with me here.)
Anyone who knows me reasonably well knows I have a place in my heart (and on my iPod) for so-bad-it's-good pop rap, and Lil' Wayne made it into the rotation about a month ago. I'll be sitting on the bus listening to this track, and every time I hear those lyrics I can't help but think that it's the restaurant kitchen singing me these words.
Crazy? Maybe a little. A kitchen will nurture you, but you're in danger the moment you become too comfortable. If you don't want it, "baby, if you don't love me somebody else will": there are hundreds of cooks ready and willing with deep resumes and sharp knives waiting to take your coveted spot. This is something I've constantly reminded myself of when I get down, when things get tough, when the everyday grind starts to feel monotonous.
A few weeks ago, I passed the one year mark of being at my current restaurant. I've loved and been loved, I've hurt and been hurt, and something keeps driving me. It's been an amazing journey, and one only needs to look about a year back on this silly blog to see how far I've come. I can't help but be a little proud of what I've achieved; moving from pantry to grill station within months of being in my first professional kitchen, being part of the team that garnered Restaurant of the Year from an influential Portland food writer, even the everyday stuff--putting up a perfect medium-rare and sending it off with the feeling in your gut that it's gonna make someone really fucking happy.
I'm still incredibly green, however, and I'll be the first to tell you that there is an untold amount of talented cooks out there who could do my job better, cleaner, faster. I'm working on becoming one of those better, cleaner, faster cooks. I'm eager to keep learning, progressing, moving forward, and though I've been through a lot in the past year, I know I've still barely scratched the surface.
Why all the waxing poetic? Well, I've been incredibly blessed by opportunity in the last few years, and a new one came to me recently to take a position that's opening up in another great Portland restaurant. It's a kitchen that I admire and frequent and whose food feels familiar yet exciting. Best of all, I'll be shaking up the comfort zone and trying something new. I'll be working at my current place for the next month and making my transition to the new spot in August.
Even more exciting news: I plan on taking a little sabbatical between jobs, wherein I plan on traveling to San Francisco and Los Angeles for a couple of weeks to eat a lot, visit friends, and stage in various restaurants. It occurred to me not too long ago that I've only ever staged in two restaurants, both of which I staged for employment rather than just for my own curiosity. I'm looking forward to seeing how other kitchens run, what the rest of the culinary world has to offer outside of Portland, and what the big deal is with the San Francisco culinary scene. Hopefully visit my internet buddy at Nopa. I've never actually visited San Francisco properly as an adult, and it seems highly overdue.
I'd love to hear some suggestions for dining and/or staging in SF and LA! Send 'em on, kids.
This summer is turning out to be an equally awesome, scary and exciting time in my life. I hope it stays this way.
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