Quarantine Cafe, Day 23
Saturday Night Special, Steak Frites. Seared flank steak with cracked black pepper, shoestring fries, lemon dill hollandaise, frisée salad.
Joint was jumping again tonight, the kitchen crew was on point. Lefty was on sauté station, righty was on pantry and I was on the fryer, each station had a component to pick up on the special, so communication was key. And as usual our short little friend was back crooning for attention in the dining room. Pretty sure she had a little something extra in her sippy before she got there, as she was immediately climbing all over the GM screaming, “IT’S NOT A COCKROACH!”, which is always good for business.
Just want to take a minute here to give a shout out to the day crew. That day chef is solid, always preps for the night and leaves the station stocked (needs to work on his knife skills though, sloppy bayonets on the frites, not to be a dick. And I hear he day drinks).
Lefty had a hot pan and the call came to fire the steaks. Righty put greens in the bowl but did not dress, and I dropped the fries into hot oil. I took a step back to go to the dish pit and almost squashed the short little Succubus, who had wandered into the kitchen, milk drunk as usual.
“Behind you!?!” I bellowed before realizing that it was the investor. The GM intervened and diffused the situation, escorting the tiny menace from the hot line. As the steaks rested the greens were dressed and plated, the frites seasoned and stacked. I plated the silky sauce at 12:00 and proceeded to slice on the bias. The call was made for hands (the GM still looks at me weird when I shout that) and the plates were run.
Rave reviews on the food. Lefty and Righty high fived and patted me on my belly. And then smacked my ass. And Goosed me. Line cooks are weird.
There was one issue in the dining room, as the new hire that arrives in July was there to dine. Apparently she liked the steak frites so much that she kicked the GM in the stomach several times. She’s gonna fit in just fine here...
P.S. It really wasn’t a cockroach...please don’t yelp that. Cheers.
