The Snowmmellier

Snow days are for pansies – That’s what I learned my first year working as a baker. The newscasters were predicting Armageddon, but I knew that I would be expected to show up for my shift.  We could have been in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and I would be there cutting out scones and mixing brioche dough.

 

My shift started at 6am and 5 inches had already accumulated.  Typically, I drove to work, but I had a good parking spot and in South Boston, those are more valuable than the Stanley Cup.  Almost everyone in Southie has street parking so you have to drive around for a half-hour before finding place where you won’t get towed.  If you live in Southie, you will get towed.  At least once.

 

So, I headed out to catch the 4:50am Number 9, and when I saw that the Dunkin’Donuts on the corner was closed, I knew the bus would never come.

If Dunk’s was closed, it was more than likely that everything else was also shut down – including public transportation.  Boston runs on Dunkin’s – literally.

 

Luckily a cabbie saw my pathetic self shivering at the bus stop and he offered me a ride.  After a toilsome journey of getting stuck in the middle of an intersection and getting out to help push the cab to safety, I finally made it to work.  And on time.

 

Cooks are part-pirate, work long hours and are expected to show-up when the rest of the world hibernates.  In fact, a young baker named Joe, called to see if we open and our boss teased him unforgivingly for the rest of the week.  “Yes little Jo-Jo we’re open, but maybe there will be an early dismissal from Kindergarten today.  Don’t forget to bring extra diapers with you when you come in! ”

 

snowman

So, to make a long story short, throughout my working career, I’ve never known snow days.  This past weekend with the big storm I thought a lot about all of the cooks out there, trekking through the blizzard to make it in time for dinner service.   I called up an old friend to ask if their restaurant was open.  He just laughed and told me how they’d scheduled a couple people to actually stay overnight so there would be someone to work on Saturday.  Currently, I’m a 9-5er and felt sort of guilty hearing this.  I am proud of that demented dedication shown by cooks.

 

Last weekend, I built an homage to the cooks – A snowman sommelier.  A snowmmelier.   I hope that all of you restaurant people out there found time to enjoy a couple bottles of wine after all your hard work during the storm.  Cheers!

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1 Comment

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One response to “The Snowmmellier

  1. Scott

    How very true about Dunkin’ Growing up in Rhode Island we would always stop at the original shop in Quincy on our way to visit relatives in Mass…As a teenager, it is where the guys met after taking your date home on the weekend as they were open till two am…

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