Saturday, October 07, 2006

Restaurant Quote of the Weekend

"How do you think my legs got that strong in the first place?"

Said by me, in response to cat calls and hoots when I was squatting down to stretch.

The boys apparently like a girl who can squat for a long period of time.

At least, that's what I'm told.

And the boys in my restaurant apparently like that I squat down every night for about 5 minutes to stretch. They say it shows that I've got good oral skills.

"How do you think my legs got that strong in the first place?"


Also, exciting news!!

I'M BEING PUT ON THE LINE NEXT WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For those of you who don't know what that means, basically I will no longer be in the back of the house. I will be up front, learning the differnt stations on a line. I won't be just chopping and dicing anymore. I'll be one step closer to actually cooking.

It's a big deal. At least in my little head.

Another funny thing: I got a hair cut this morning before work, and when I took my hair out of the ponytail, it smells like Torte Rose, a sauce we make in the back. It's really actually a good thing that I don't have a boyfriend right now. Just for the mere fact that I'd gross him out whenever he tried to snuggle.

Good night.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Help Needed

Oh my hell I’m tired today.

It’s definitely a “Sleep in my car during my lunch break” day today.

You know you’re tired when…

Even Visine Eye Drops don’t take the red out.

When you see a strand of your hair out of the corner of your eye and you think it’s someone standing next to you.

When you stare into space for so long that your computer goes to sleep.

You stare at your computer stupefied because you don’t know how to wake it up.

You’re jealous of your computer.

You think about quitting everything just so you can sleep.

How much longer do I have?

Oh, right…July. It’s only October you know.

Facha Dosa.

I need suggestions. Does anyone have a secret concoction or food or vitamin they eat or take that helps them retain energy? I’m not talking caffeine. I know about coffee, and Red Bull etc…I’m talking about something that will really help keep the pep in my step on Friday and Saturday, when I’m really about to crash and burn.

I'm serious. I need suggestions. Otherwise, I might end up falling asleep in the kitchen by Saturdays.


I can't be certain what I was trying to make, but what I do know is that I had salt, sugar, pepper, pickles and frozen orange juice combined in one bowl. I stirred it with a big wooden spoon, so vigorously that it splashed out of the sides of the yellow and white glass bowl.

This is my first actual memory of cooking. We lived in New York so I must have been 3 or maybe 4.

I had an easy bake oven, like every other girl my age. But it didn't interest me. Standing on a chair making fudge with my aunt was what I omlets with fried ham and chunks of gooey cheese on Sunday's-again while standing on a chair-made every tiny cake that came from the Easy Bake seem like a joke.

Perhaps it's because I grew up in a small town, where nothing came fast. There were no fast food restaurants around, and the nearest store was 20 minutes away...but it never bothered me that if I wanted chocolate chip cookies, I'd have to make them.

And I was good at it. And being that I grew up the way I did, being good at something meant that I could persuade the world to be better. And so, I cooked on.

One day, during a snowstorm, my friend and I wanted to make cookies, but we didn't have all of the ingredients. I wanted to impress her, mainly because she was more popular than I was, and if she had fun, maybe I could be part of the "cool" group.

The cookies came out wonderful. I remember my mother being amazed that I made them out of nothing. And so, I cooked on.

A passion is born to every one of us. Perhaps it's not until you tap into them at an older age that you realize how long it's been simmering inside of you, waiting for the floodgates to open so that its water can replenish your soul.

I've found my passion. I hear it calling my name in my sleep*, I see it on every street corner, and feel it in my sleepy bones. It's smell is with me, weaving it's aromas into my brain, tickling me senses and urging me to move on. It speaks to me.

It's saying, "Feed Me".

*Symbolically, of course. I don't actually sleep.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Locks, Stocks and Barrel

Basic human rights should consist of:
1. Food
2. Clothing
3. Shelter
4. Being able to go to the bathroom alone

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I. Hate. Public. Restrooms.

The next time I interview for a company, that's the question I'm going to ask...forget about upward mobility and flex time. I'm interested in a small room in which I can escape to sporadically throughout the day. One with a lock. And a mirror.

And no one else's tinkles 'n plops.

* * * * *
It feels good to be reminded. But weird too.
* * * * *
It is fun to give presents.
* * * * *
My next creation/experiment is pumpkin creme brulee with caramelized ginger sugar. It could certainly bring a new twist to Thanksgiving, and perhaps even be sellable to my adoring fans next month.
* * * * *
It amazes me when people who hurt you or your feelings neglect to say "I'm sorry". Especially when they try to carry on as though it never happened.
* * * * *
Waiting is the hardest part. I still don't know. I hardly care. But action must be taken.
* * * * *
If you haven't tried them, you should buy "Uncrustables". Little round pockets of Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches. Quite frankly the cutest lunch EVER.
* * * * *
Having cable again rocks. But so does being able to lay on my couch in my comfy pj's with a blanket and relaxing for a change.
* * * * *
This lame post is brought to you by my extreme exhaustion and my compelling desire to wrap myself up in my comforter, bury my face into my pillow and dream about all things lovely...Have a Thursday everyone!

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Jamie and the Giant Peach

"There's an aura in this room, all around you...near the windows. We're not alone here. It's like a beautiful...I could cry."

We were standing in an attic of an old house, our creative minds whirling with ideas. The hot tub could go in the corner, near the windows and the trees, so we could soak in a tree house we called home.

If I decided to buy that house.

"Baby Love, you can't see it? Oh it's beautiful. This could be it-this is our house." And then, "We're home."

His mania was hard for me to work through. I was happy because he was happy, and everything seemed new and fresh and wonderful to him. Every little detail that I saw that others didn't, he did when he was manic. The trees danced to music only he could hear, food tasted better, he was funny, and I dare say, charming.

On those days, I felt like a flower drinking in the strong beams of sunlight after a storm.

And every time, I tried to convince myself that this was the real him, and that one day, we'll beat "this thing" and that the sun would shine forever.

"How come I don't eat peaches more often? This is the best peach I've ever had. Taste this!" he said, as he leaned in to kiss me so that I could taste the warm, sweet juice from the peach.

It seemed that on those sporadic, wonderfully manic days, I could almost pretend that things were ok-that my world wouldn't crash down on me tomorrow, or in an hour, or even in the next 5 minutes. I could envision my "I told you so" moments in which I showed everyone I knew that being patient, persistent and caring would pay off, and that everyone deserved to be understood.

And years later, he would always remember that I was the only one who believed in him. And he would look over at me and smile, and take my hand in his, slowly rubbing my skin with his thumb and he would say, "Thank you for believing."

But we all know how that story ends. I didn't buy the house in the trees, and peaches aren't in season forever. And my days of sunlight we fewer and far between, and a storm was raging deeper than any patience and understand I held in my heart could handle.

And I could no longer believe because ever flower needs a little light in order to bloom where they are planted.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Toosdae ?'s

Here's a twist to my usual Toosdae ?'s. I'll provide the answer and YOU come up with the question. It should be fun to see what you all come up with! Be as silly (or serious) as you want to be!

1. It's supposed to be that color.

2. 2-3 times per day.

3. In my pants.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Co-ink-i-dinks and Frogs

Yesterday I got a new cell phone, and during the "finishing up" process I was asked to go to a different sales rep. She was black, but I thought, "Man, she really looks like Amber." Who is white.

It's weird because I haven't thought about Amber in months, and all of a sudden, yesterday afternoon, there she was in front of me.

Today I got an email that sadly, her father passed away from a massive heart attack. Around the same time I "saw" her.

Also weird-I came back from lunch today to find this sitting on my computer:

No one will tell me who it's from. Apparently, I have a secret admirer. The weirdest part is that when I got home I had a CD from Greg with a note on this: It just proves my point that people are connected. In some way, some how, we are linked to each other.

It was a weird day today....

A Room With A View

There are certain things that I've always wanted to do. And there are certain ways I've always wanted to be viewed and certain ways I've always wanted to act.

But for some reason, it never happens like that.

For instance, I've always wanted to go into a trendy bar (such as my favorite, Bin 228 in Hartford) alone to relax and have a glass of wine, perhaps while reading a book to bide the time. This I've done and it is one of my favorite "me time" activities. But what I really want to happen is for the tall intellectual man in the corner to come over to me and ask if he can buy me a drink while we talk and laugh for hours. I never meet people when I am out. And I think there's something wonderful about the possibility of that happening, even if it ends up being one drink, or one lifetime of drinks, it's romantic.

I've always wanted to live in an old mill or factory that has been converted to apartments. The character of the architecture, the built in bookcases and the brick walls just scream "Create something wonderful in here". I can see myself curled up in front of the big windows overlooking the city with a glass of wine and a laptop just writing my heart out. Or having friends over and cooking delicious foods that make their mouths water and their hearts happy. I feel like I'd know at least one man who wore turtleneck sweaters, and because he was artsy, I'd be okay with it.

I've always wanted to be a part of a club, an organization or group that conducted meetings weekly and created an extended family. We'd be expanding our minds with deep conversations or stimulating our neighborhoods growth or feeding the homeless, but we'd be doing it together. These would be the people in my brownstone, drinking wine with me and laughing while the snow fell.

I've wanted to appear to be put together all of the time. I want to own a classy tan trench coat that looks perfect with any outfit, nice shoes that go with a multitude of skirts or jeans, the perfect black cashmere sweater and suits that make me look smart. Instead I'm most comfortable in jeans and a hoodie and most of my shoes come from Payless. The nice clothes I do own are wrinkled by the end of the day because I curl my right leg under me when I sit and I slouch. I do own a trench coat, but it's bright pink.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want and who I want to be. I know I want to be successful and I know I want to find someone who will love me and appreciate me, get married and have a family. But these other things also exist, and I feel like my time is running out make them happen.

I'm contemplating moving when I graduate next year.
I'm trying to go out more, even if it's alone. I can't meet anyone in my living room.

I'm trying to build upon my culinary degree and pairing it with my love of traveling. I can't afford to attend the pastry school in Chicago, but I can certainly try to attend one of their 3-day classes.

The style will have to wait. The clothes I want to wear don't look good on me, and they certainly don't agree with my current wallet situation. But instead, I am starting to wear all of the clothes in my closet, pairing them up differently and accessorizing. I am doing my hair. And I re-apply my makeup after lunch so that I look fresh.

Working with what I've's a start.

Sunday, October 01, 2006


I feel like I'm missing fall...

Yesterday was beautiful and perfect and wonderful and I saw it for 1/2 hr when I was getting gas and driving to work. When I came out at 9:45pm it was dark.

Today it's a deluge, which was great for catching up on sleep, but not so good for my "I love fall more than any natural thing in the universe" soul.

I don't wanna miss fall...