Rib Eye - April 1, 2007

Rib Eye
Current mood: hungry

Monday, April 1, 2007

Just got back from Houston. I didn't get much of a chance to see the city itself, because I was trapped in the kitchen for fifteen hours a day. What was I doing? Cooking for 3,500 golf fans. Despite the long hours and the general lameness of the food, it was actually an enjoyable experience. Pretty amazing the amount of food, time, energy and resources that goes into something like this. For instance, on Sunday we were serving rib eyes - one of my favorite cuts. We roasted and sliced six hundred pounds of beef! Yes, that's right. Six hundred pounds. Food for thought???

The people that I worked with were great. My roommate, who was from San Antonio, was named George - short for Georgetta. She was pretty amazing. Apparently she was in the military before becoming a chef. She was a mechanic. How shall we say, she's definitely not the shy, fading flower type. Sylvia, the other female in the kitchen, is from Argentina. To call her firey would be an understatement. Get some tequila in her, and watch out! She's married to Mike who was in charge of the grill. Mike's from Boston, and very mellow. Not as mellow as Jeff, though, who is from Vermont. Jeff has a very zen like quality about him, and loves to tell stories. He's the quintessential Dead head. He's friends with John, who is also a Dead head. John has a little more angst then Jeff, though. Let me see. Who else? Ah yes! Tony. Tony is from Mississippi. Tony has a thick Southern accent and a whole lot of Southern charm. Tony is quick witted, smart, and wise beyond his twenty-five years. Every morning I drove in with Jeff, John and Tony. Either Bob Marley, The Radiators, or the Greatful Dead would be our soundtrack. Ugh. Then we had Alan, who is from Baltimore. Funny guy, and quite likable. He worked the ovens with Gary. Gary is from Saratoga Springs, NY. Gary is a really hard worker, and rather quiet. Well, not always that quiet. Get a few drinks in him, and you kind of can't shut him up. Gary came in with Chris, who was the Executive Chef for the event. It was hard to figure Chris out. Considering that it was Chris' first time being an Executive Chef, I think he did quite well. For the most part he was super serious, and quite removed. He wasn't one of those chefs who raised his voice, or had temper tantrums. Thank god, because I'm definitely over that. All of these people were great, with one exception. Louie. Louie was a Brooklyn native, who now lives in Florida. I'm pretty sure Louie is the devil.

So, that was the kitchen crew. We had the front of house as well, but that's an entirely different story. I actually didn't really get to know any of them that well, except, of course, Pill. Pill is from San Antonio. We went out on the town a couple of times. First time was to this place called Aviators. His friend Dave picked us up and brought us there. Aviators was a stereotypical dive bar, across the street from a big field. I'm not entirely sure, but I think there were some cows in this field. That's another weird thing about Texas. They put cows everywhere! I guess they have to if your going to serve six hundred pounds of rib eye to the golf people. Aviators was a good time, and cheap ta boot! Well, I guess pretty much anything is cheap in comparison to New York. The next night Dave picked me and Pill up, and took us to some club of which the name escapes me. We saw one band, of which the name escapes me as well. I think somebody said something about it being the guy from the Mighty Bosstones. Not my thing, to say the least, but evidently there wasn't a whole lot other than that going on in Houston. This place made me feel as if I were in some sort of time warp. I really felt like it was 1984, and I was at some all ages hardcore show. Also, I haven't seen so many skinheads in one place in a very long time. Scary.

After that, we went to the oldest bar in Houston, which apparently is haunted. Spooky. They had a nice selection of wines and microbrews, and we actually got to know the owner and manager who were very nice. The funny thing about Houston is that people get really excited about out of towners being there - and especially people from New York. It made me feel a little odd at first, but I eventually got over it. We shared a nice bottle of red zin from Napa, then made our way to the Spanish Flower - allegedly the best Mexican food in Houston. It was okay, but didn't really bowl me over. It was better than most Mexican places in New York, though - but that's not exactly difficult to do, now is it.

Next stop, Dallas. The circus continues!