The Line

My extern is over and I am back in school and book classes. However, the memory of my extern is ever present. The end of June, The Sanctuary lent me to the Atlantic Room. The Atlantic Room is our sea food restaurant on the resort. At first I was only to help plate for the very hectic banquettes. Steadily I started to return for banquette prep. My responsibilities grew from asking for step by step directions; being drawn out a list; being handed the clip board; being completely in charge of banquette prep; being in charge of prep and appetizers; prep, appetizers, and soup and salad, prep, appetizers, soup and salad, plating; and finally prep, appetizers, soup and salad, plating, and dessert. However, nothing compares to the night I was put on the line.

Funny how memory works, I cannot remember the day for the life of me, but I can clearly remember being told I would be helping the Assistant to the Sous Chef on saute. Saute is a station normally manned by two full time employees, and interns are never allowed on the hot line. Tonight it would just be me and Ryan (Assistant to the Sous Chef). Service starts out slowly giving Ryan plenty of time to explain what dishes are produced by the station and what the dynamics of each plate. A bit overwhelmed, I memorize six dishes, determined to make every single one of these dishes as they came in. In the last forty five minutes of service we receive ninety five tickets (orders).

The speed hit me like lightening running through my veins, only concentrating on what I had been trained to do an hour ago. The entire kitchen was alive with the symphony of clanging pots, fires roaring, and the fryer spitting. I was spinning, ducking, reaching, and swerving, all within perfect choreography that matched the other dancers in the kitchen. No burns, no cuts, only the old fashioned sweat on my brow and smoke in my lungs.

Finally I give another elegant turn and yell "Risotto in the window!" only to be answered by the grill cook with "Nine-thirty! We're done! Service is over! We did it!". My heart sunk. What do you mean service is over? I was just getting started! The adrenaline carried me into cleaning and never met the same force that addicted me to the line the next two times I were to work the bake station.