Shaw Island, PM
Decided to change the title of this drivel and freshen it up a bit. I think this blog changes its mind more than I do.
The storm has abated and after a few rainbows
darkness returns. The power dashed out once and sent 15 min.
recipe writing down the tubes. Dinner time approaches, and what
is the snobby chef making his family tonight (which reminds me there is
still Swedish Meatball makings rotting in the back of the fridge and a
piece of Ahi steak decomposing on a plate waiting for me to decide what
to do with it--I think, right after this, I will commit the sin of sins
with it and confit it in olive oil with garlic and herbs and use it for
an ultimate sandwich tomorrow). The decision for a cold night
like tonight is: Broccoli Cheese Soup. Sorry, I lack
imagination when I haven't much time and not much in the fridge, a
fussy family, and have been working on upscale menus all day.
Shaw Island, AM
The driving wind is
howling through the coal black night. Gale winds drive the
snow-like salt sea crystals against the house. The early morning
seems all the greyer for the crust on the seaward windows as the dim,
storm tossed light finally breaks, diffuse through shuttling
clouds. The roar and crash of the swells and breaks sound out in
the darkness, almost indistinguishable above the virile gusts.
The dog's lonely howls rise above and through the swirling, tinny
racket only to be lost by the bass undertones of sand and sea, and the
drumming of airborne waters. Gusts so fierce that they slice
through the airtightness of our house disturb ornaments on the
Christmas tree. The banked down fire glows embers. Merely
light against the bitter cold winds surrounding us.
I throwa few more logs on to greet the morning and
the expanding vapor of warmth enfolds me but for a moment before
natures icey fingers touch my exposed neck. Violated thus, I got
dressed. To move about is to get warm. Coffee.
This. The banshee cries of the dawning day are echoed by the
sentinel pines along the shore, bent and crippled by a century of
standing gaurd along the rock. The first lights are on in the
house. Dog barks more, waiting to be recognised againt the
spectre of the storm ravaged dawn.
I have travelled across to the calm side of the
island and back now. Everywhere the roads are strewn with
casualties--the limbs and heads and fruits of the forest.
Normally we are cast into darkness on a day like this. The
Nineteenth Century brought to life as weekly power outages become the
norm. Me thinks the power cooperative won out against the linemen
though and buried the lines and felled suspect trees this summer.
Back in the hovel the pictures on the
wall jitter and dance on their strings. Two small children grit
aginst the insolent morn. In the light from the kitchen they
shiver and stammer, finally deciding it is safer in bed, dressed
against the day they swear they won't go outside in.
It is light enough now outside to see the world
beyond these walls. Steel grey. Salt sheets whip across
whitecaps born for a moment, only to drown the next in the unsparing
seas. The edges of the cove are ringed with surging foam, while
barely perceptible gulls wing and dive above. At the mouth of the
bay the reef sits below the churning surface waiting to take its next
victim--anyone foolish enough to be out in weather like this. It
consumes the hulls and screws of boats in good weather, on calm
days. I must be voracious on a depriving day like this.
Jagged jaws poised below the troubled surface, not content to just
scrape and scar but tear apart anyone caught in the change of tides,
unable to free themselves from this American Scylla and Charibdis.
The morning is exciting enough without all
that. There are breakfasts to make, coffee to be drunk and
windows to be gazed out of. Chores can wait until after oatmeal
on a day like this. Now I can see through the whitewashed windows
it is the sort of day to keep an eye out for bodies washing up and
wreckage. If the tide is out when the eye passes over we will be ready
to rush out and comb the beaches for finds--two centuries of occupation
belched up from the muddy bay bottom: shells, bottles, beachglass,
floatsam and the unsecured contents of peoples lives caught by the
storm and delivered to us.
If anything interesting happens I will let ye know by and by.
Shaw Island, PM
Went to the all island cocktail party Saturday night. Basically
one couple opens up their house for a bash--free booze and mixers, no
children, you bring something for everyone to nibble on. Quite
ambitious seeing that 300 people could possible attend.
In the past this has been quite the sheebing, going
to all hours of the night. But it seems in the last few years it
is getting tamer. For instance, I arrived earlier than usual, at
7:45pm and almost no one was there. By 10:30 most of the people
who had come in after me were gone. I left around 11pm.
Other than the opportunity to lap up free drink the party is a
mixer. All levels of the island in one place at one time.
Not always a comfortable situation, as there are many people I would
rather not be near because of their social, physical, or moral
repugnance. Nevertheless, I had a moderately good time. The
wife was home sick with the flu, so although the roads are quiet and no
one is out on them late at night, I watched my intake of alcohol.
Sunday I took the kids to an island tradition--the
Santa Ship. The Jaycees on the mainland organize a ship and crew
and travel through Canada and the US islands locally, bringing Santa,
toys and their own bizzarre hung-over brand of fun. Traditionally
this is done at the ferry landing, but this year it was moved due to
construction. The new venue was cramped and I have not seen the
level of chaos and rudeness among a group of adults since I used to
ride the commuter trains in NYC. Absolutely no
organization. I left completely pissed off that while the kids
were trying to have fun, the adults were acting juvenille.
I came home to a calmer afternoon of rearranging the
furniture in our house to make it seem less cramped. We went out
and found a Christmas tree and set it up. We have no idea what
we're going to use to decorate it with, but salt dough ornaments and
popcorn chains come to mind. God willing, we will sell this place
in the coming year and next holiday season our stuff will be in a
larger nicer home and not crammed into a storage unit.
Meanwhile I have the next 3 days to prepare menus,
recipes and shopping lists for two events totalling a possible 80
people. Why I do this by myself is crazy. If I had more
work, I would for sure hire help. The last event for 45 almost
did me in with stress--I do not like chaos, or even the hint of
it. Especially while I am working, and trying to produce
something high-quality and worth what I am charging for it. Along
with the menus and recipes I am also costing the meals closely, which
means that every ingredient is broken down by price into the units I
use them in. I have some advanced software to do this, but I
don't have all of the prices input and some of the ones I have are old
and need updated. I am also tackling new recipes which means I
have to input them as well. Once they're in, though I can utilise
them for future events handily enough.
Quarter to 8am. I'd better get rolling.
I've wasted enough time this morning reading the news headlines and
looking over mail. Any minute now, toddlers will awake and
realise their mother is gone for the day at work and they're stuck home
with me (again) as I try to work at the computer.
Here comes one now. . . . .
posted by: ChefNeal at December 15, 2003 08:42 |
link | comments |
Shaw Island, AM
At home and recipe
testing. Tried a few last night--almost got them right. At
least I know a bit more about what I am getting into for my next up
coming party for 60.
Trying to take care of business things today, catch
up and make sure I am current with everything. Nothing I hate
more than surprises there. I also must make some calls today--one
of them is to my stupid mortgage company. After refinancing I am
told I need flood insurance in an area that I has never flooded--I live
on an Island, about 25 feet above the water table, on solid rock which
slopes away from the house. It is a major annoyance because it
seems there is no easy way to get away from this without it costing a
packet.
I was right--horror! I just looked at my American
Express Card bill. Thank God I have two more big jobs coming up
this month. Meanwhile, I've been searching for work. As
much as I love working for myself and won't give up my dream; I've got
to find some full time employment. But it is so depressing
looking for work. I am skilled, and talented at so many things
but the feelings of inability as I look at countless jobs for which I
don't have enough experience to even apply for. It is
ridiculous. And there are other jobs I could do--Project manager,
crew chief, Foreman which I have the experience and skill for, I cannot
apply for because of my physical limitations. Thank God we are
only young and foolish once--I don't think I can survive another bout
of stubborn, foolish ubermenschism which got me a busted up back.
Meanwhile the holidays are upon us and ours is going
to suck. We have realized that everything we own for Christmas is
packed away in a storage unit, way at the back. Because the unit
is on the mainland and has business hours there is no way we can get
there with our present schedule. Our tiny house is full up, and
we have a bunch of stuff to go to the storage unit to make some more
space, but we can't even get it there--arrgh!
I know you're all probably laughing, thinking what's
the fecking problem? What a bunch of losers, can't even make
things happen. Well, living on an island, as beautiful, safe and
peaceful as it is, it is also a prison which traps us financially and
binds us with time. In the last twelve years of living here
things have become so expensive--think about having to spend around $50
everytime you want to drive to Walmart, or a Safeway, or see a movie,
or go somewhere. That's before you spend any money where you're
going. It was fine when we were making twice the money we are
now, but life doesn't work out in convenient units. If we could
have sold 5 years ago when we first wanted to, we'd be laughing.
Instead we struggle to hold on to a property we cannot afford any more
in order to sell it. Not my choice--I'd be out of here in a flash
if I could cover the cost of my debts and have a reasonable place to
live. But we don't own all of our propery outright and the other
"partners" are the troublesome sticking points--they want it all, don't
want to leave, won't agree to anything let alone sell, and hey as if
that wasn't enough--they don't work so they can't afford to stay but
won't do anything about it. FAMILY--ugh.
Enough of my rant. I don't usually go on this way, do I?
Perhaps it is the weather, which is pissing down with rain right now
and icey cold. Perhaps it is the job search, or the fact that
hard as I try only 25 people a week are hitting my website.
Granted it really doesn't have universal appeal, but it could if there
were some interest shown.
I am being swarmed by angry toddlers--better go before blood is shed.
posted by: ChefNeal at December 11, 2003 10:08 |
link | comments |
MV Chelan, Thursday AM
5:30 am--too early for this. The cooking
class was a success last night. Full of regular faces--almost
like a fan club. I had a regular take some photos of me for
my web sight. I hope they work out. Apparently he has a
file of photos of me teaching my cooking class--kind of creepy
really. My Christmas Eve client was there and offered to pay me a
deposit, which is nice because things are running a little bit tight
right now with the amount of supplies I am purchasing for events with
money being stalled coming in. I am afraid to look at my American
Express bill.
I might have picked up at least two other cooking
jobs out of the whole things as well. At least there will be some
more hits to my web site; whether they pan out or not. After the
class I talked with the wife--thing are not well in realty land. I
return home this morning to a mess of some sort. Picture
issues and dead lines. I am sure now that our realtor is pulling
some sort of bullshit. Not what I want to hear. I want the
add to be done and on its way to press. I've got a station wagon
full of supplies to unload and two refridgerators to clean out this
morning before I can even think of resting.
I see my lap top battery is wearing down, and I
don't feel like shutting down, swapping and restarting. I guess I
shouldn't have watched half of Gosford Park last night until 12:30.
More later. . . .
MV Hyak, Monday AM
On the road again. Was extremely busy over the
weekend. Infact, since I wrote the above. I tried to post
the above the other day, but it didn't work for some reason--something
about not being able to post twice the same day or something; have not
figured it out, nor care to really.
I'm off to cook down in the big smoke. I spend
all of yesterday preparing the basics. I have to stop off and
pick up a loin of Ahi Tuna on my way to the city. And then, its
another 10 hour of high pressure, low volume cooking. Here is the
menu:
Corporate Christmas Party for 45
Pan-Asian Buffet
Ahi Poke Gyoza with Soy-Chili Dipping Sauce
Shrimp Spring Rolls with Sweet Chili Sauce
Beef and Pork Satay
Thai Seared Beef Salad
Hot and Sour Noodle Wrapped Shrimp
Indonesian Ginger Chicken Wings
Coconut Vanilla Rice with
Mango, Papaya and Banana in Lime Sauce
Sounds good--ah, but think about wrapping all of the spring rolls, the
noodles around the shrimp and the gyoza--then Hire me! It is
tedium, but someone has to do it. Several failed spring rolls
were hurled in the general direction of the dog's bucket yesterday as I
wore on my tenth hour of prep. I unwound at the end of the day--10pm,
by carving some acorn squash, for vases of scallion and carrot
flowers, and a watermelon to hold the dessert. I normally
wouldn't use watermelon so out of season, but I was in a local
supermarket the other day and the idiots has the watermelon marked on
sale for .33 each. I couldn't resist grabing two and fighting
with the clerk when they rung it up at .33 per pound. I got my
way and some cheap table decoration for the buffet. Keep you eye
on the prices and know what things are worth and the grocer can never
rip you off.
Tonight I stay at a local motel. Hotels.com
didn't have enough to say about the place--price dictated the
choice. I am only going to spend about 5 hours there- Just a
place to lay my head. I usually stay with friends when I must
stay overnight. But I will be returning very late and want to
sleep in. Unfair to them and the last time I stayed with them,
they insisted I have breakfast with them--it was embarassing. I
love them to bits, but they are young and foolish. They could
work real jobs and have more than they needed. Instead they
scrape by with as little as possable and work part-time at jobs they
hate. They rely on handouts and free furniture. They will
learn. Still, they have a cosy, if not cramped home and are
famously generous with their hospitality. Nevertheless, I will be
giving them a miss these next few times I work away from the island.
I can't help but feel a little apprehensive as I
travel into the heart of the city's wealth tonight. I have cooked
for the jet set before--small, intimate dinners and wedding banquets
and it has been casual, as tonight will be. But I am entering big
game territory here. There are several known caterers in the area
where I am heading. No doubt my price was a factor. And
they have had my food--cooked at a campground. Camping with
Jeeves: a 3 meal a day, gourmet camping experience that I created with
some friends as an auction item for the Northwest Children's
Fund. It has gone over very well.
We will see what happens tonight and what sort of
tip I make--not that I ever expect one, but when they do come they are
an indication not only of how much wine my clients have had with their
meal, but how much they enjoyed the entire experience.
I'd better put in some reading before the ferry hits
the mainland. I may rejoin this text later tonight when I can
rest again.
Shaw Island, Wednesday AM
Somehow I keep
loosing days. Yesterday was a blurr. I cooked the party and
it was a success. Got my check, gathered my things and
drove. I made it North in record time due to a lack of traffic on
the road. The fact that I could go 80mph didn't hurt
either. I stopped off at a Safeway to get some beer and ice and
chips before I got to my motel. Carefully chosen for price more
than anything else. I had to get ice to chill down the leftovers
I had from the party. about 8# of Tuna loin, and a huge chunk of
beef tenderloin. That being done I made it to the motel just
before the office closed for the night.
I was wired from the drive and post-game adrenaline
and so I drank a beer, ate chips--my dinner--and watched telly for a
while until I dozed off. Sometime around 2am I woke up to turn
off the tv and turn down the blower on the heater. It was too
loud, but it did help mask the traffic noise from the interstate.
Needless to say, I spent a restless night on a hard bed--murder on my
pulverized spine--kept awake by the freeway traffic. When I
finally did fall asleep I don't know, but I awoke with a
start--horrified to find out it was 9:30am. I had to be somewhere
at 10, which meant no relaxing breakfast somewhere nice. I
grabbed a coffee at Starbucks and drove across town. By 10:30 I
was heading the 50 miles towards home. I stopped off at a
friend's
wine store to pick
up a specialty cheese order I had delivered there. I gave him a
really excellent piece of goat's cheese wrapped in a chestnut leaf,
soaked in plum brandy and sampled some wine. I bought 3 bottles
and raced to catch my ferry.
Back home I unloaded the car and unpacked
everything. It was freezing outside, but the kids and I detailed
the inside of the station wagon and I washed out my giant ice chest and
my special box for keeping food pans hot or cold. I barely had
time to relax before I had to start making dinner--yup you guessed it,
buffet leftovers, and tuna steaks.
Today I start testing recipes for my next big
event--many of which I have never cooked before. I'd better get
some other work done before everyone gets up.
posted by: ChefNeal at December 10, 2003 08:01 |
link | comments |
MV Chelan, Wednesday AM
Off to teach a cooking class tonight. Things have been a bit hectic. Our
property
is on the market, and keeping it listed is a bit of a trial. We
haven't had any serious inquiries in a year and a half of
listing. I just don't think it is being marketed in the right
direction. That is finally about to change with an ad in
Unique Homes
magazine. However, I had to write the copy and help sort out a
photo which proved to be a bit of a debacle. Any way, it seems
like it is all being done now, and hopefully things are moving on.
Still, it is something which, at the moment, has consumed a massive
amount of my time and energy when it shouldn't have and when I can
least afford it.
I have been stressed
out this past week, not so much by the work I have--for that I am
grateful--but more for the type of work I have and the level of it. If
I were in a circumstance where I could just go get supplies without
spending a whole day doing it, then I could easily handle more
business--especially if it were enough that my wife didn't have to work.
Working out of the
house and taking care of the kids all day is really starting to do my
head in. I can't focus on any one thing and the dear ones are
getting the short end of the stick. I love being around and
involved in everything they do and that is great when there is nothing
going on. But when I've got the phone ringing all day, hours of
costing and proposal and menu writing to do, and bookkeeping--it all
gets a bit stressful. Especially since my office is in our
kitchen and our kitchen makes up 1/3 of our house--there is no escape.
So, I am headed off
to teach a class to day--a bit of an escape. I will have to spend
the night away and get up at 4:45 tomorrow am to return home. I
also have to do a major purchase for my next cooking job on
Monday. In order to get down to Seattle in time to prep and set
up I will have to have as much prepared as possible this weekend.
I think the
depressing cold reality is that I really should find a job working for
someone else, full time and give up working for myself for a
while. At least until I am in a position to make it work
right--with a separate space and office and a basis of operation other
than my cramped and dinky house. Of course that take a lot of
business to support as well. And it's hard when high-end clients
are quibbling over costs. I can forgive myself for caving on a
price Monday. I dropped a labor intensive high-end buffet from
$33 dollars per person to $25 because I needed the business and the
client hedged--I gave in way to easy. And I didn't change the
menu much to reflect the lessened money. Which means I'm paying
for my hotel room out of my own pocket in addition to not making as
much as I hoped for the job.
Yet I am held
bouyant by the fact that the dinner I cooked last friday for 6 was held
in the highest regard and my tip was almost a third of the total
cost. Nice work if you can get it.
The Christmas Eve
dinner is looking up. Some slight changes to the menu, but
nothing big and no quibbles on price--yet. Oh, if only people
would state and commit to a budget when I ask them up front, instead of
waiting until I pour hours into a menu and have it all polished to work
in a given circumstance.
I am looking out the
window as we glide towards the harbor-after a hellacious blow last
night, today has cleared off to be glorious. One of those crisp
winter days which cuts the breath as you drawn in, but quickens your
pace because it is so beautiful and clear and cold that the crisp surge
of chill energy revitalizes every cell and fibre in your body.
Once more into the breach. . . .
posted by: ChefNeal at December 05, 2003 08:15 |
link | comments |
