After a long day of massive production, working with hyenas and too much panna cottta, all you want to do is sit in a beer and cheese coma on the couch. After weeks of troll-like tendencies, I finally feel compelled to re-enter the world of humanity and momentarily escape from the gritty underside of fine dining. Although, civilized citizens might sip wine and eagerly anticipate the arrival of their French-y entrées, we back-of-the-house guzzle black coffee and anticipate the death of the next waiter to deliver an order to the wrong table.
It’s been an experience. These past months have been full, to say the least. There have been wedding cakes, 300 people for Thanksgiving Day dinner service, and Spanish screaming banquet managers. There have been moments of despair, occasional outlets for creativity, and one hell of an extern to whom I owe my sanity.
Back in early fall when The Boutique Hotel changed ownership and everyone in the pastry department jumped ship (…except for myself and my Westchester County extern), I had my doubts that we would make it. Either we would die of sudden heart attack, be admitted to the nearest mental institution or we would kill each other. Those seemed like the options. Yet, today we both stand with no scars, except for minor cases of oven burn.
It was a long climb back up the rabbit hole, but I think we made it and we did a damn good job, if I do say so myself. The new company has brought in the new management, new chefs and new dishware. In the meantime, I’ve learned a lot and made a couple desserts along the way…..time for the next adventure.