Thursday, September 4, 2008


So this is why I have these gray hairs coming in...

Still short a cook, a banquet tonite of about 30, specials to make, menu to type, schedule for next week to post, chef still M.I.A.

And then came the health inspection. Hold on, a health inspection? Right smack in the middle of the speed hump of my fucking day. This is why I live for this type of shit. I am simultaneously barking out orders in Spanish to mop the floors, check the walk-ins, wipe down that table, and if your not using it to put it away, FAST. Of course the inspector was right there but luckily either she didn't speak it or my Spanish is just that bad, but it gets the job done so who am I to judge?

Talk about a hiccup in an already long week. We were moderately busy and the inspector took one look around, checked all the temperatures in the walk-ins and on the line, and then checked my dish area. Well, nobody's dish area wasn't dirty but my dishwashers didn't tell me the garbage disposal wasn't working this morning. Then I spewed out curse words in at least three languages before I calmed down.

I turned to the inspector and told her I needed to call a technician that was in the building. Explaining the situation he was there within moments and gave a good story. The story worked well to say the least, he has to order a part and it should be here tomorrow for them to fix. All in all the evaluation went great, then she asked for my food handlers license. Hmm, never really made the trip to get that one, I mean I have my certificate but my wallet got stolen a while back and I just haven't tried to get another. The certificate should be enough, but I didn't risk it. My raw bar cook has one as well.

So that's my story for the day...and it's only 3 pm. HA!

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