my former colleague Max
Archive for July, 2008
The Cook
Posted in food on July 6, 2008 by emilywaters“A cook they had with them, just for once,
to boil the chickens with the marrow-bones,
and poudre-marchant tart, and galingale,
He knew how to recognize a draught of London ale.
He could roast and broil and boil and fry,
And prepare a stew, and bake a tasty pie.
But a pity it was, it seemed to me,
That on his shin an open sore had he;
For sweet blanc-mange, he made it with the best.”
Geoffrey Chaucer
Three photos of the kitchen
Posted in Uncategorized on July 5, 2008 by emilywatersI would have taken more but I was too busy screwing everything up and being yelled at.
making jasmine water, one flower at a time
July 2
Posted in work on July 3, 2008 by emilywaters4.39 AM, full daylight here in London and I wake to the voice of a man saying “I’ve turned off your alarm clock.” Panic-stricken I fumble for the clock, only to realize the voice was only a dream.
7.15 AM- I am roused from a fitful sleep by my alarm clock.
7.30-8.29 AM- I board the number 44 bus along with about a hundred other people and we slowly make our way to Victoria station, where I wait in line at a Starbucks with another hundred others who all order skinny lattes. My brewed coffee is quite weak by Vancouver standards.
8.30 – I push open the swinging doors and make a grand entrance into the kitchen proper, where I commence the ritual “Lighting of the Burners”. This involves lighting a wooden skewer on fire and delicately, oh so delicately taking it over to my stove where I have to gently coax the pilot lights into life. This can take some time.
8.45-11.59 AM- Pilots lit, I start chopping vegetables, peeling prawns, gutting fish, slicing things, and frying things. Vigorously.
12.00-3.00 PM- Lunch service
3.10 PM -sit outside for 5 minutes and breathe the sweet sweet air.
3.15 PM-5.45- Much chopping, frying, and assembly of various ingredients. Much use of a large mortar and pestle.
5.45- Sandwich crammed into mouth and double espresso to help it get down.
7.00-11.30- a furious dinner service.
11.45- As I’m speeding towards the bus stop a creepy man says very earnestly “I like your boobs.” Thanks!
12.05 AM – Once I get home I have a strict routine: kick shoes across the hall, fling off sweaty clothes, don pajamas, and crack a beer.
