chefspace

Jul. 7th, 2006 01:53 am
daniwithtea: (runaway spoon)
tuesday, wednesday, and today combined, I have spent ~21 hours cooking and doing other chefly things. I've made, cut, and individually wrapped ~75 granola bars, ~75 protein bars, and ~100 cardamom-almond bars. The first 4 batches of brownies are cooling; the last 4 batches will be done in 17m48s, if my trusty pyrex timer is right. both aiolis, the tapenade, and the goat cheese spread are also done. i've washed so many dishes and just plain washed my hands so much that they're peeling. Tomorrow looks to be an 18-hour day if things go smoothly. my kitchen looks like a war zone and the dining room looks like a bulk foods market. right now, i could run a produce stand out of my refrigerator.

i didn't hit chefspace until about 5 hours ago.

every time i do this catering thing, i go through phases. i start off jazzed, move on to anxious (i can't do this/i don't have enough time/i don't have the skills), progress to full-blown stressed, and continune in any combination thereof until i finally hit chefspace. the adrenaline takes over, the pain goes away, the bleary eyes brighten, and the world is a good, good place, as long as that world is inside my kitchen, and i have sufficient caffeine and nicotine. it's a beautiful high, one that really can't compare to anything else. it's why i like to drink when i'm done.

coming out of chefspace into the normal world, where (for example) i can't curse like a sailor and throw shit if something goes wrong at my real job is fucking tough. there's no easy transition. it's like getting a good beating, being in a nice heavy space, and being told to run on a treadmill in heels while solving a rubik's cube and singing puff the magic dragon. or something. (it's late, and i'm not good with examples on a good day.) getting trashed is a nice way to slow that comedown, like warm flannel and a boobie in your ear. or maybe that's just me.

my wonderful girlfriend, who puts up with so much when i do these gigs - my lack of spatial perception (there's no way in hell this is all going to fit in the fridge), my moodiness, my insanity, the fact that i'm tracking kitchen crud all through the house (this time it appears to be sticky dried fruit residue from the granola), the fact that i don't do anything else around here when i'm catering (the lawn looks like a jungle and we're eating frozen pizza) - has been given a very, very important task. I've asked her to bring me home from new york saturday evening, put me to bed, and hand me a bottle of something, whatever she decides on, that will get me nicely wasted. (well, that, and drive to the flea, because i won't.)

i'm rambling - shocker.

the original point here was not the drunken state i wish to achieve on saturday, but the amazingness that is chefspace. 'cos right now?
my back hurts, but i can't feel it.
i'm tired, but awake enough that i could keep going right into tomorrow if i had to.
i'm stressed, but in the good kind of way that makes my world turn.
and i'm having one of those nights where, covered in kitchen goo and completely exhausted, everything is right in my world. life is really, really good.

i need to remember that on sunday.

my pyrex is beeping, my brownies are done.

be well everyone - see you at the flea!

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daniwithtea

September 2008

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