You're missing out.

Parties.  Concerts.  Dinner parties.  Birthdays.  Dates.  Family gatherings.  Weddings.  Remember going to these things?  Being a part of it all?  Having a life?  Wasn't it nice?  Hope you took lots of pictures and didn't drink too much at these things, because when you're neck deep in kitchen life, it's all a memory. 

Sarah calls it FOMO.  Fear of missing out.  The nagging notion that you're missing out on something great.  Like one day all your friends will call, text and email you the details about how they ate a hand cooked meal by Thomas Keller, then took a supersonic flight to Tokyo for sake and beers, then boarded a cruise ship where everyone got laid and 2Pac and Biggie came out of hiding to give a private concert.  And all this while you were working salads on a Monday night where you did 30 covers.

Some cooks let this nagging feeling get to them.  They decide that they want some "me" time, and maybe they take the day off for their birthday.  Then they request off for the 4th of July.  Then for Superbowl Sunday, because it's gonna be slow and stuff.  Slowly they give in to themselves and in a strange turn of events, the kitchen world begins to pass them by.  They weren't there when everyone did 400 covers.  They weren't there to see Daniel Boloud come in and eat.  And worse than that, they weren't there when the things got hard, and the kitchen needed them the most.  The chef looks at them and sees someone that's unreliable.  The brigade looks at them and wonders when this person is going to put in their notice.  And this cook looks in the mirror and considers giving up cooking all together.

There is no easy way out in cooking.  You give yourself over to it, completely.  You sacrifice everything, and hopefully have friends, family, and a significant other that understand--or at least tolerate it.  You work as hard as you can, and take all the overtime given to you, and in the case that overtime isn't authorized, you work off the clock.  Scratch that-- you go to your chef and volunteer to work off the clock.  If need be,  you get sneaky and stay after, late night to work on your projects.  Your days off become a carefully coordinated, expertly timed series of tasks and visits and chores and phonecalls and errands and rest and maybe, just maybe a little bit of fun.  And in the off case that you get called in, the answer is always yes--no matter what.  You just took three hits of acid and drank a bottle of scotch and shot heroin in your eyeballs?  Chances are that your chef will understand.

So the next time you get FOMO, ask yourself what it is that you're really missing.  Juxtapose this against the importance of immersing yourself in the kitchen and what paying your dues will end up getting you, and ask yourself if its worth it.  Everyone needs me time--but no one ever got 4 stars by letting themselves have it.



notes:

• a note to potential yelpers:  heaven's dog is not a hot dog joint
• on the subject of yelp:  my 10 year plan includes listing myself on yelp, waiting for someone to talk shit, then suing them
• duct tape wallets are awesome.  especially when made by one of my wife's students
• paul enjoys chocolate cake in his day off.
• in one week I had someone tell me they weren't stalking me, and another tell me that they were. 
  
• names floating around the nopa kitchen are eduardo, ricardo, and gerrardo.  this can get confusing.
• to anyone that might ask, no, I dont have a fork tattoo.
• name your top three simpsons episodes:  mine are the one with mr sparkle, the australia one, and the one where homer eats the spicey chili and hallucinates.
  
• fries with lamb gravy taste good
• interesting post here about a girl trying to make it in a boys kitchen.  she should talk to merrell.
• this heat wave is messing up my allergies
• nopa is all over twitter. 
  
• blue bottle sweatshirt.  cool factor = 10.  workmanship on the zipper = 0
  
• from chadzilla: 
  
  I found your last post interesting (as I do all of them). 
  Definitely in the sense that I believe most of us go through this
  quandry in one facet or another.  The real reason for this is that the
  line between 'new cooking' and 'old cooking' is becoming more and more
  blurred (just as the lines between sweet and savory).  It was easy,
  some time ago, to put that stick to the sand and say, "Alright now. 
  You guys into the new stuff can stand over here, and all of you who
  think that traditional is better can stand over there."  I think, that
  the purity of cuisine cannot be divided so easily.  Looking through
  your stack of books (of which I have each and every one pictured) blurs
  those lines even moreso.  This is an increasingly exciting time in the
  food world.  Traditionalists used to cite Keller's name in defense of
  their craft.  Ironically, "Under Pressure" is a bible of modern
  technique.  Whether I am cooking at home or at w
  ork, I approach things the same and ask myself the same questions...
  what will make this better right now in this setting?  Sure, we will
  make mistakes, but only a fool does not learn from them.  The chef ego
  is slowly becoming an endangered species, and the forums for sharing
  knowledge are growing.
  
  
  I truly believe that the real mark of cuisine (just as your quote
  in disagreement with Bourdain, "the best cook is the best cook") is
  simply how good it is and how much respect is given to the
  ingredients.  The best food is the best food.  These ideals are held up
  by both the Robuchon's and the Adria's.  You should not concern
  yourself with what side of the fence you are on because it's obvious
  that you are very aware of what is good or not.  Your choice of
  expression will not deter the message within the ingredients as long as
  you are honest with yourself and to your food.

conversations, quotes, and jokes that fell flat.

wife:  I just want a job that's mindless next summer.
me:  you should get a job in gavin newsom's administration. 
wife:  how am I supposed to get a job in gavin newsom's administration?
me:  blerg.



me:  hey al, that's the chef of Greens over there.
al:  no, that's the chef of Redd.
me:  that was a joke.
al:  you don't have a very good sense of humor.
me:  you're right, it's my fault.


me:  well, it's more expensive than if you ate in the cafeteria.
eddie:  yeah.
paul:  are you guys talking about strippers?
-on the moss room

"she looked as happy as if she was at mickey grove park."
-mongoose, on mickey grove park.  whatever the hell that is.

"merrell, i'm ready for monkey sex.  i'll bring the poop and bananas."
-corey, on making love.

"he could probably kill me with string and sunny delight bottles."
-corey, who is afraid of mongoose.

the food runner shows me her nails--they're all different colors.
me:  why?
runner:  why not?
me: um, because they don't match.

me:  j-lo, fire burger medi-
j-lo:  fry time.
-on cooking burgers very, very quickly.

me:  amy, if I fall, I want you to have my undershirts.
amy:  don't fall.
corey:  if you fall, the only thing that's gonna catch you is a hot pot of stock.
-on changing light bulbs when you have very high cielings.

"looks like corey's balls."
-merrell, who didn't like my drawing of the lamb shank.

corey:  as long as it doesn't come out a crack baby, it's all good.
rachel:  well, you've got a 50/50 chance.
-on corey being a dad.

"i'm pretty good looking."
-merrell, on humility

me:  i'll fill a 22qt, and you can dump it on her head.
al:  a 4qt is fine.
-on wearing a lot of perfume

"any girl that gives you her number written in eyeliner is probably not a keeper."
-ponder, who gives good advice.

merrell:  is today the 14th or 15th?
me:  it's the 16th.
merrell:  oh.
-on making labels.



from top:  hi there, fernet, four barrell, adios, nopalito kitchen, dinner, like really rare, chickens by ponder, lamb shank, paul is messy, nopalito popsicles, herbs, amy from above, dinner #2, cooking, pre service, bellies, salt cod, duck prosciutto, corey's baby, spring rolls, broc o bama, kozy