I'm a little out of breath because, right when I sat down to write this, "Always Be" by Jimmy Eat World came on my iPod. I had to jump up and hop around the kitchen. I would have kept on going for a while if the dish towel hadn't fallen off my shoulder.
Why did I have a dish towel on my shoulder? It's because I'm on tap for dinner preparation this evening. That's a fairly atypical happening. But, sometimes, I just get the urge. One of those urges came over me earlier this week when I told Kim that I'd make risotto for Sunday dinner. That's why, at 3:30PM this afternoon, I was assembling ingredients on the kitchen counter. What time is dinner you ask? Oh, not until 6:30PM.
When I cook dinner, it's almost always a several hour affair, regardless of the simplicity of the recipe. About twenty-five percent of the time, I get the meal on the table at the time I promised. It really shouldn't be that bad. The summer after my junior year in college, I spent evenings working as a kitchen prep cook at Slade's in Ballston, VA. I loved that job. I'd come in late in the afternoon and there'd be a list of what needed to be done that evening waiting for me. There were usually two of us working together in the prep kitchen. We'd talk about what needed to be done and divide the work up between us. Then, off we'd go for the next 6 or 7 hours.
I developed quite a repertoire at Slade's. I prepared crab cakes, chili, 5-gallon tubs of salad dressings, brownies, potato soup, and all sorts of sauces. My favorite job was making freshly ground hamburger. You started with a 20-25 pound slab of beef. First, you sliced it lengthwise in one-inch strips. Next, you cut the strips into thirds. From there, you started grinding, working your way through several settings until you had ground hamburger just like you see at your local food store. However, that wasn't the final step. Before declaring it ready to go, we had to cook a two-ounce test burger. To do that, you used a little contraption that looked a bit like a scale. The scale sat at a slight angle with a trough at the bottom. The trough ran into a little test tube. You'd set the burger on the "scale," turn on the flame, and then set the timer. While the burger cooked, fat dripped down into the test tube. We had to measure exactly how much fat the test burger generated and write it down in a little log book. I have no idea why and I never asked.
I worked at Slade's that entire summer and then for several more months when I moved back to DC after graduating. All told, I spent 7 or 8 months there, finally "retiring" when we got the apartment in Takoma Park. It was one thing to take the metro at 11PM from Ballston to Farragut West, wearing my cook's pants and boots, smelling like garlic and onion, wondering what the other random people on the Metro were doing at that hour. It would have been something else altogether to keep that late-night commute up after moving to Takoma Park.
I think I actually got pretty good with my prep skills while I was at Slade's, if you don't count the time I stabbed myself in the left palm while trying to pit an avocado. I had to take a brief break and sit down since I was light-headed from the blood loss. I still have the scar.
But, if I was good, you'd never know it from watching me cook now. I've read the risotto recipe three times. I've laid out all the ingredients in order on the counter and then re-shuffled their position. I've taken out measuring spoons, cups, a pan, a cutting board, and two knives. Everything's sitting there waiting for me. I've estimated my start time, questioned its accuracy, and made minor adjustments. As of now, I'm targeting a 5:30PM start with dinner on the table at 6:30PM. We'll see about that.
