[listen]
[picture this]
Dinner Shift - a thought experiment
(inside the mind of a line cook with anxiety & depression)
You lock your car door and fumble with the keys. You check your watch - 11:57. Fuck yeah. Made it on time today.
Gripping it between your thumb and your middle finger, you light up a smoke and take an impossibly deep inhale, expanding your lungs until you feel like you're about to burst. Slow exhale. You flick the half-smoked butt aside. Perfect shot. Landed right next to yesterday's.
Seven quarts of green goddess today... we blew through that last night and we have 90 on the books already. Today's going to be a shitshow.
"What's up, jackass?" God, Dave IS such a jackass. I wonder if he knows I actually mean that every time I say it. How the fuck did that jackass get promoted to sous? I think he's doing meth.
Why the fuck doesn't the cleaning company ever put the towels where we need them? It makes no fucking sense that they drop them next to dry storage. Oh shiiit, I should hide a couple in my locker for the end of the week. That'll outsmart these amateurs.
Sweet, tons of delis today. Holy shit is that the blue microplane? Haven't seen that in months! How do we lose so much stuff so often? Where does the good stuff run off to? Fuck, what was that thing I meant to write down yesterday? Why don't I ever grab a pen when I remind myself of this shit? Oh fuck I forgot to grab my new sharpies out of the car. FUCK the one I have in my apron has the worst tip on it and chef is going to kill me. I am such an idiot.
"Hey Raul." Damnit, Jess took my favorite cutting board. Fucking slut. I think she's hooking up with Dave because she wants a raise.
How is it 12:30 already?! Holy shit I am so fucked. Ok. First things first. The bolognese is a pain in the ass because chef wants everything brunoised, I think he's doing it like that purposely to fuck me over. Le Cordon Douche.
PANS! Fuck I forgot to grab pans, god this is going to be such a pain in the ass if I have to use 10-inchers instead. Ha, ha. 10 inchers. Huh. New server is actually pretty hot. Whoa. Yes. Helloooo.
SHIT I forgot I have to do a salad for staff today SHIT and it has to be vegan DAMNIT why do vegans have to even exist it's so fucking DUMB. Seriously, like I have time to come up with something like this on the fly!
Oh no, here he comes. I hope he doesn't notice that I forgot to switch out my salt yesterday, we got a 4 top at 9:55 and I was the last to break down. HA! He finally called out Jess for her disgusting squeeze bottle tape.
"What's for staff today?"
"Uhhh, I thought I'd use the extra mesclun, it's just about to turn and the new stuff we got today is way better to serve. "
"Some veg confetti will be great in that!"
Did he really just dump an entire pint of brunoise into the staff salad?! What a fucking dick. If I were ever alone with this guy I'd brunoise his dick and make him watch.
"Oui, chef, Good call."
"Staff's up!"
How do people actually eat before service? Look at those greedy fuckers. Oooh. Heyyyy new server. Did I brush my hair this morning? I should probably grab a plate before these assholes devour it.
How the FUCK is that hostess always smiling? I can't tell if she's stupid? or just fake as fuck?
"Hey Lisa, can you get a round of coffee for the kitchen?" I can't lose steam now. How do people eat before service? Oh my god I have to re-do my brunoise. Ok. Deep breath. Brunoise, then portion fish, then cut garnishes. I should have enough steaks to last. I can do this.
How is it 4:55?!
"Ten top just walked in! They're all in suits, they look like business men!"
God her smile irritates the shit out of me. Why is she so happy? Nobody fucking cares if they're wearing suits.
Oh wow my piano is filthy. Gotta wipe down before chef sees. Not like I'm ever going to get a raise anyway. What does he even do at his desk all day? What a hack.
"Order up!"
Ugh, I hate the way he raises his voice at the end like that.
"First ticket: 6 ribeyes, 4 well 2 mid."
Right out the fucking door tonight, huh.
"One of those wells has sauce on the side. Two have no black pepper. One mid no butter. One mid sub potatoes for rice. Don't fuck it up. 3 salmon, one dry. One squash. Two charcuteries to start. Got that?"
Oh my god. What is that fucking feeling in my chest? I don't have time for this shit. How many steaks did he say? Six? 4 fucking well dones? Way to clog up my grill forever, pricks.
Tray. Paper towels. Salt. Pepper. Steaks. Dry. Did he say two no black pepper?! Who dislikes black pepper? People are idiots. Ok. Gotta get these on A-sap. Wells first.
Salmon. Dry. Just one? Yeah. Ok. So far so good. I've got this. Time to flip. Daaaamn that char is looking perfect! SHIT I need to put the other two on so they finish at the same time.
"Order in! 3 more ribeyes, 2 midwell, 1 mid."
"9 all day!"
"Don't fuck it up!"
"Oui, chef!" Douchebag.
"Plating that ten-top, I need those ribeyes!"
Tongs. Oooh, these are my favorite pair. Click click. Gotta make sure they work! Where's my sizzle platter? Oh, right where it should be. Fuck yeah. Thanks, self! Wow these look amazing. I'm starving. That fat looks so crispy. Shut the fuck up, stomach.
"Where's my sauce on the side? Are you even paying attention to me?"
Oh my god FUCK that's right... Ramekin. Sauce. Window. Here we go. "SOS to sell!"
Gotta flip those next ribeyes. Wipe down the board, you slob. Your station is destroyed.
I need to count my salmon.
Heyyyy, new server. Lookin gooooood tonight! Wonder if they're staying for shift drinks.
Wow Dave got destroyed tonight. His station looks like shit. Wonder if he's going to get reamed by chef. I fucking killed it today. No sendbacks. How many steaks did I sell? 30? Damn, I should take a bite of staff. Chef's in the other room. I love having a spoon in my jacket pocket. Why aren't sleeve pockets more common? So handy. Did I drink any water today?
"Is it time for a smoke yet?!"
"I can already taste my shiftie."
I should really do some prep for tomorrow. Fuck I'm tired. Lisa never brought that coffee I asked for. Do we have enough lemons? I need to grab containers before these jackasses horde them all. Why can't anyone ever put the tape back where it's supposed to be? It's not even hard. Oh my god, who always leaves the honey jar sticky like this? Fucking hacks.
"You meeting us at the bar or are you gonna bitch out tonight?"
"Order me a high life, I'm just finishing my prep list! No shots tonight though."
"Yeah right. Round of Jack, coming up!"
I smell disgusting holy shit. Gotta make sure I remember to wash my face. New server might be coming tonight. Oh man, my back is killing me. I think I want a new knife.
Imagine giving this to someone who has never worked in a kitchen before - can you see their faces twisting as they struggled to understand what the hell they just read?
If you understand the words above, you've probably worked in a professional kitchen.
If you understand the emotions behind the thoughts (but not the jargon itself), you've probably spent a significant amount of time living in fear and being visited by anxiety.
If you don't understand either, you're lucky.
Kitchen speak is another language.
It's another way of thinking.
It's really hard to describe unless you've experienced it.
It's also really easy to quickly get swallowed up by it and forget that anything else exists.
To be successful in a "proper" kitchen, you have to train yourself to bring all of your awareness of everything in the outside world in tighter and tighter - focusing on less and less until the only thing on your mind is the mental tally of your orders, until the only thing you notice is the speed of the bubbles in your reduction, until the only thing that you hear is the slight change in the sound of your salmon skin sizzling against the pan. On a successful night, the fear goes away and we hyperfocus; we surrender to the chaos. We grow extra arms and perform a dizzying dance with our food.
We get into flow.
Flow changes the state of our brain. It's intoxicating.
It's also a form of self-hypnosis.
Once we understand how to consciously and reliably access flow, we can develop routines to ensure that we hit this state every day when service begins. We learn to surrender and trust our own judgement. We get better at our jobs.
When we join the kitchen, we
unknowingly
hypnotize ourselves
to continuously
search
for things
that are wrong.
We search
for problems
to fix.
The only time we ever describe things as
"going right" becomes
when we are currently
executing
instruction
perfectly.
We hypnotize ourselves to fear making a mistake - mainly to avoid the inevitable industry-standard humiliation. We begin to exist in a low-level state of anxiety that tends to compound the longer it's ignored. We bounce between fear, anxiety, shame, guilt, pleasure, vice, rage, blame, anger, pride, and arousal.
We unintentionally become primitive with our emotions.
The problem is twofold:
One, no one teaches us how to consciously understand this emotional roller-coaster of brain chemicals flooding our system.
Two, no one teaches us how to turn it off once we leave work. No one teaches us that recovering from it or learning to regulate our emotional state is even an option.
We're taught to seek quick-fixes.
We're taught to throw a blanket on the lamp - instead of actually feeling for the switch and turning the light off.
We're taught to throw a sprig of parsley on the plate instead of taking 5 minutes to make a functional, interesting garnish that would actually add to the overall sensory enjoyment of the dish.
We're taught that alcohol and tobacco and drugs and casual sex are all ways of "blowing off steam" - but we don't understand how to actually unwind and release the pressure.
We stay tightly wound. We grow resentful. Negativity intensifies.
Vices are cop-outs.
They're microgreens, strategically placed on a dish as an afterthought to disguise a drip or a smear or a less than perfect sear.
We know it, too - but we've likely never seen a clear and personal example of anything other than what we have been taught, so we doubt the authenticity of "other" methods. We fear change, because we cannot handle the disappointment that would follow if it didn't go exactly as expected.
A lot of the working class is convinced that learning is something that only assholes do.
That is a manifestation of an inter-generational fear of "not being good enough" - as an example, let's follow a potential path of generational damage. This fear, acquired by immigrants, is formed by the sheer volume of new knowledge required to actually function in and understand every idiosyncrasy and every new piece of language and every subtle body language indicator that a native resident would.
A lot of immigrants never really feet like they fit in in their new city. This often leads to isolation due to background fear of acquiring knowledge and failing. It often causes immigrants to subtly distance themselves from mainstream culture because they don't understand how to interact with it. Locals sense their fear, but see only the hermit. They fear what the immigrant is doing inside because they don't even remotely try to understand what he is actually doing.
No one actually bothers to simply ask each other.
They begin to form stories about each other because they have never interacted. They become resentful of the culture that seemingly will not embrace them.
They pass their resent on as suspicion and doubt to your parents. Your parents take this as truth.
They pass their stories on to you.
They didn't, however, ever learn to question if those stories were true - so neither did you.
They trusted. Just like you've been trusting.
We never investigate the claim to see if it's actually true or not. We just accept this silly fear as reality. As dogma. We all have subconscious beliefs and generational thought patterns instilled in us at childhood that - at their core - are born out of either ignorance or misunderstanding.
We all also have the ability - and the responsibility - to examine these patterns and beliefs as our own person to decide if they are actually true. We have the ability to pick and choose the things we choose to believe about ourselves and the way we think and feel about ourselves.
When I wrote the first part of this article, I had to thrust myself back into that world. I had to allow myself to be consumed by it. I had to feel that chest-squeezing anxiety, that all-encompassing high-alert wash of fear that makes your muscles tense and your heart race so fast that you begin to hear it pounding in your ears like a dull reverberation. I felt nausea creep in in waves, vacillating between total repulsion towards the idea of eating...and absolute starvation. I felt my muscles tighten. My breathing get shallow.
Before I even knew it, I was standing in front of my freezer, scanning for ice cream or something sweet.
The natural response to feeling fear is the desire to seek comfort.
Sugar provides a dopamine hit. Dopamine triggers feelings of safety and comfort, and temporarily squishes the fear. We temporarily feel better.
That quick comfort doesn't last long though, does it?
It's "just a bite" until the pint of ice cream is gone.
It's "just one sip" until you're six drinks deep after work.
It's "just one hit" even though you know where that leads.
It's "just a harmless flirtation" until you're in a situation you shouldn't be in with a coworker.
The most fascinating thing about subconscious self-hypnosis is the realization that if we managed to accidentally fuck ourselves up with it, logic would dictate that we can un-learn this mindset by actively de-hypnotizing ourselves. It is surprisingly easy to consciously reprogram the subconscious mind.
[read again, with understanding]
De-coding what's really going on
You lock your car door and fumble with the keys. You check your watch - 11:57. Fuck yeah. Made it on time today. [procrastination]
Gripping it between your thumb and your middle finger, you light up a smoke and take an impossibly deep inhale, expanding your lungs until you feel like you're about to burst. Slow exhale. [vice] You flick the half-smoked butt aside. Perfect shot. Landed right next to yesterday's.
Seven quarts of green goddess today... we blew through that last night and we have 90 on the books already. Today's going to be a shitshow. [pessimism]
"What's up, jackass?" God, Dave IS such a jackass. I wonder if he knows I actually mean that every time I say it. How the fuck did that jackass get promoted to sous? I think he's doing meth. [judgement]
Why the fuck doesn't the cleaning company ever put the towels where we need them? It makes no fucking sense that they drop them next to dry storage. [criticism] Oh shiiit, I should hide a couple in my locker for the end of the week. That'll outsmart these amateurs. [snobbery]
Sweet, tons of delis today. Holy shit is that the blue microplane? Haven't seen that in months! [optimism] How do we lose so much stuff so often? Where does the good stuff run off to? Fuck, what was that thing I meant to write down yesterday? Why don't I ever grab a pen when I remind myself of this shit? [confusion] Oh fuck I forgot to grab my new sharpies out of the car. FUCK the one I have in my apron has the worst tip on it and chef is going to kill me. I am such an idiot. [worthlessness]
"Hey Raul." Damnit, Jess took my favorite cutting board. Fucking slut. I think she's hooking up with Dave because she wants a raise. [insecurity]
How is it 12:30 already?! Holy shit I am so fucked. Ok. First things first. The bolognese is a pain in the ass because chef wants everything brunoised, I think he's doing it like that purposely to fuck me over. Le Cordon Douche. [insecurity -> paranoia -> condescension]
PANS! Fuck I forgot to grab pans, god this is going to be such a pain in the ass if I have to use 10-inchers instead. [shame] Ha, ha. 10 inchers. Huh. New server is actually pretty hot. Whoa. Yes. Helloooo. [distraction -> arousal]
SHIT I forgot I have to do a salad for staff today SHIT and it has to be vegan DAMNIT why do vegans have to even exist it's so fucking DUMB. Seriously, like I have time to come up with something like this on the fly! [fear of learning/change]
Oh no, here he comes. [anxiety] I hope he doesn't notice that I forgot to switch out my salt yesterday, we got a 4 top at 9:55 and I was the last to break down. [excuses] HA! He finally called out Jess for her disgusting squeeze bottle tape. [deflection]
"What's for staff today?"
"Uhhh, I thought I'd use the extra mesclun, it's just about to turn and the new stuff we got today is way better to serve. " [apathy]
"Some veg confetti will be great in that!" [superiority/antagonizing]
Did he really just dump an entire pint of brunoise into the staff salad?! [powerlessness] What a fucking dick. If I were ever alone with this guy I'd brunoise his dick and make him watch. [anger]
"Oui, chef, Good call."
"Staff's up!"
How do people actually eat before service? [anxiety] Look at those greedy fuckers. [contempt] Oooh. Heyyyy new server. [distraction] Did I brush my hair this morning? I should probably grab a plate before these assholes devour it. [self-consciousness]
How the FUCK is that hostess always smiling? [jealousy] I can't tell if she's stupid? or just fake as fuck? [projection]
"Hey Lisa, can you get a round of coffee for the kitchen?" I can't lose steam now. How do people eat before service? [anxiety] Oh my god I have to re-do my brunoise. [frustration] Ok. Deep breath. [worry] Brunoise, then portion fish, then cut garnishes. I should have enough steaks to last. I can do this. [belief]
How is it 4:55?! [panic]
"Ten top just walked in! They're all in suits, they look like business men!"
God her smile irritates the shit out of me. Why is she so happy? Nobody fucking cares if they're wearing suits. [jealousy -> projection]
Oh wow my piano is filthy. Gotta wipe down before chef sees. [shame] Not like I'm ever going to get a raise anyway. [worthlessness] What does he even do at his desk all day? What a hack. [insecurity -> projection]
"Order up!"
Ugh, I hate the way he raises his voice at the end like that. [criticism]
"First ticket: 6 ribeyes, 4 well 2 mid."
Right out the fucking door tonight, huh. [annoyance]
"One of those wells has sauce on the side. Two have no black pepper. One mid no butter. One mid sub potatoes for rice. Don't fuck it up. 3 salmon, one dry. One squash. Two charcuteries to start. Got that?"
Oh my god. What is that fucking feeling in my chest? [fear/anxiety] I don't have time for this shit. [dismissal] How many steaks did he say? Six? 4 fucking well dones? Way to clog up my grill forever, pricks. [blame]
Tray. Paper towels. Salt. Pepper. Steaks. Dry. Did he say two no black pepper?! Who dislikes black pepper? People are idiots. Ok. Gotta get these on A-sap. Wells first.
Salmon. Dry. Just one? Yeah. Ok. So far so good. I've got this. Time to flip. Daaaamn that char is looking perfect! SHIT I need to put the other two on so they finish at the same time. [flow]
"Order in! 3 more ribeyes, 2 midwell, 1 mid."
"9 all day!"
"Don't fuck it up!" [condescension]
"Oui, chef!" Douchebag. [anger]
"Plating that ten-top, I need those ribeyes!"
Tongs. Oooh, these are my favorite pair. Click click. Gotta make sure they work! [distraction] Where's my sizzle platter? [confusion] Oh, right where it should be. Fuck yeah. Thanks, self! [confidence] Wow these look amazing. [pride] I'm starving. That fat looks so crispy. Shut the fuck up, stomach. [suppression of needs]
"Where's my sauce on the side? Are you even paying attention to me?"
Oh my god FUCK that's right...[shame] Ramekin. Sauce. Window. Here we go. "SOS to sell!"
Gotta flip those next ribeyes. Wipe down the board, you slob. Your station is destroyed. [criticism]
I need to count my salmon. [distraction]
Heyyyy, new server. [distraction] Lookin gooooood tonight! [desire] Wonder if they're staying for shift drinks. [desire for distraction]
Wow Dave got destroyed tonight. His station looks like shit. Wonder if he's going to get reamed by chef. [criticism] I fucking killed it today. No sendbacks. How many steaks did I sell? 30? [pride] Damn, I should take a bite of staff. Chef's in the other room. I love having a spoon in my jacket pocket. Why aren't sleeve pockets more common? So handy. [distraction] Did I drink any water today? [self-awareness]
"Is it time for a smoke yet?!" [distraction]
"I can already taste my shiftie." [vice]
I should really do some prep for tomorrow. Fuck I'm tired. [awareness] Lisa never brought that coffee I asked for. [disappointment] Do we have enough lemons? [distraction] I need to grab containers before these jackasses horde them all. [egotism] Why can't anyone ever put the tape back where it's supposed to be? It's not even hard. Oh my god, who always leaves the honey jar sticky like this? Fucking hacks. [condescension]
"You meeting us at the bar or are you gonna bitch out tonight?" [coercion]
"Order me a high life, I'm just finishing my prep list! No shots tonight though." [assertion]
"Yeah right. Round of Jack, coming up!" [dismissal]
I smell disgusting holy shit. Gotta make sure I remember to wash my face. [self-awareness] New server might be coming tonight. [distraction] Oh man, my back is killing me. [self-awareness] I think I want a new knife. [distraction] I need a cigarette. [vice]
Ouch. That was uncomfortable.
[reflect]
Start to notice the patterns in your own life. What thoughts do you think throughout the day? What emotions are you actually experiencing regularly? In the example above, emotions are color-coded to make it easier to follow. Notice what often follows shame, insecurity, and criticism as an immediate reaction. Notice how you respond to anxiety. Notice what distracts you, and pay attention to the thought that warranted a distraction - start to understand why you do what you do. How do you talk to yourself on a daily basis? Would you be friends with you?
Learning about ourselves and developing more awareness is the most incredibly beneficial thing we can do as adults. Once we understand WHAT we are doing and HOW we are reacting, we can then develop the ability to decide if we would LIKE to keep doing it. We get to decide if these autopilot thoughts and actions and behaviors get to stay in our lives only after we take the time to truly understand what they are and why they are there.
Choose the difficult path.
[absorb]
If you've just realized
that you are stuck
in the cycle,
keep
paying
attention.
[shift]
Share this with someone you care about who has never worked in a kitchen before.
It might help them understand you a little better.
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