It’s so frustrating to look out the window and see the crew sitting down on what seems to be a permanent smoke break. I’ll go outside and ask what the holdup is, only to find out that yet again, they’re waiting on an “Inspector”.
They hustle hustle hustle, and then hurry up and wait.
The past few days have been pretty active, though.
Triple C showed up yesterday and poured cement, then used some sort of machine to pound it flat.
I get to design an iron gate that will fit into that space in the photo above. Anyone have ideas for it? Anyone? I have no creative juices left after this past week.
I do, however, have a righteous burn that I sustained after a 12-hour day of cooking in the kitchen while Whitey was sick at home.
I also have two new scratch-like oven burns on the other arm, completing my entire set so that it looks like I’ve branded myself.
I had gone so long without burning myself. I think that lately, the long hours have been getting to me. It’s as if the oven shocks me and says YO WAKE UP. I know that I get funny looks when people see them. No, I’m not a cutter. Maybe I should get a tattoo on my arm that says that — or that says “Pizza Cook” or even “These are oven burns”.
The other day, I had to stay late and make dough. Have I mentioned that I’ve never made dough before? It’s the one thing that I had proclaimed that I never wanted to learn how to do. Lifting that enormous bowl time and time again, batch after batch…
It was exhausting. But it turned out just fine. Look at those beautiful little webs in the crust two days later…
After making dough that night, I got home around midnight, only to get back to the kitchen at 7 the next morning to do cheese. Three hours grating the mozzarella, provolone, cheddar, and pepperjack. You have to leeeeeeeean into the machine with all of your weight to get it going. It’s like Yoga, only more tortuous.
Those are what we call Cheese Noodles. They end up forming in the pelican head, and are super-soft morsels of the cheese. They have the consistency of cream cheese if you squeeze them. They’re also a pain to use on pizzas because they’ll melt like crazy and cause you to have a wet pizza. They need to be broken up into tiny pieces.
Whitey is feeling much better. His teeth still hurt, but his flu-like symptoms are gone so I’ve put him back to work. Yesterday, this is what awaited us:
We fed the entire Haines Elementary (80+ kids, from what I heard) for their last day of school! They were picked up about a half and hour before we opened, and it was awesome. We really worked great together to get everything done in time.
I’ve made an appointment for Whitey to see a dentist next week on Tuesday. He wanted to ignore the pain in his wisdom teeth, and said that he’d just “man through it”. Bah.
I convinced him to see a dentist that is also a friend of his. They golf together, and I told him that his friend wouldn’t hurt him. Or maybe he will. After all, it could sabotage Whitey’s game if he hurts him.
So if he does get his teeth pulled on Tuesday, that will mean that the kitchen will be all mine again next week. Long hours and fresh burns.
I really need to find a new pizza cook to hire.
I’m off to work – wish me luck for the weekend!