One Stupid Fish and how it damned near messed up my day

I like fish, I really do and I especially love to fish and cook fresh fish but yesterday was a day when I wanted to wage war against the lifeless fish in the kitchen freezer.  I will get to that in a bit.  First I must backtrack because this tale involves several lessons in how little things can cause a entire breakdown in an otherwise wonderful kitchen machine - the staff.

Many good writers like Tony Bourdain (Kitchen Confidential) talk about how one screw-up on a line can affect the entire kitchen.  It could be someone having an off sort of day and not focusing or it could be a simple misunderstanding or as in my particular case the inability to properly articulate in another language a set of particular methodologies that desperately needed to be implemented.  That being said, yesterday was not the day to be La Maestra de la Cocina.

We are coming into the hot season which precedes the rains and for a busy kitchen without air conditioning things can heat up pretty fast in more ways than the obvious.  We had an event for 85 to cater and of course the prep would start early.  This was not going to be a buffet service but rather the full meal deal with proper service which while nice I find rather impractical at times.  There were two menus, one for the adults and one for the children.

Guatemalans can have a strange approach to food and this has to be one of the hardest adjustments for me to make being more classically-oriented.  For example I would never serve an entree accompanied by potatoes if I had already served a potato soup.  I would never serve a shrimp bisque if the main course was fish.  But because these are the catering menus as requested by the clients I have to set aside my opinions and run with it.  Unfortunately though sometimes the look on my face can be misinterpreted and when one is dealing with a culture that can be quite sensitive and proud one has to learn how to deal with their staff proactively rather than reactively.  Yeah right, and monkeys will fly out of my butt.....hahahaha.

No, I am not the wicked bitch of the kitchen nor would I ever want to be thought of that way but there are times when my patience can be sorely tested and yesterday was the day. 

I had worked the morning breakfast shift so my trusted, genteel and wonderfully talented cook Manuel could be rested for the impending slam we would go through later.  My mind was stoked for the prep, our order of prep and I felt calm and confident and then the one glitch in the matrix happened at 1:55 p.m. - a late lunch arrival. 

I do not mind making lunch late in the afternoon but what I do mind is a customer who is in a rush, orders the fussiest thing on the menu and expects two courses in a half-hour.  The latter course being fish that is frozen solid.  So this is where the "fun" begins....and believe me, it was anything but.

Firstly, I should not have made that icky face and rolled my eyes.....but I could not help it because at that time my head was into the hours of prep ahead of me and the execution of 85 plates.  Evelyne, one of our camaristas who also does wonderful kitchen duty on occasion caught my look and the poor woman panicked.  This was not my intention for this to happen but it did.  Onelia, one of our wait staff who is also quite adept in the kitchen followed me to the freezer and we selected a fish but as soon as my back was turned she proceeded to defrost it in hot water.

My emphatic NO must have echoed throughout the cavernous kitchen and I grabbed a large container, got some ice and put the fish into that with some water to properly defrost it.  All this time not realizing that the client was in a rush - this was not articulated to us in the kitchen.  Evelyne in the meantime had turned on the oil and had placed fries into it and I knew immediately that this was another big mistake as oil not heated will saturate whatever hits it, thus making for an awful experience for the diner.  I removed the fries. 

I grabbed some veg and started chopping while Onelia heated up some water for them.  They would be finished off in butter, salt and pepper in the frying pan.  Onelia put together some soup and bread to take out to the customer who by this time had said to our receptionist where is my food?  Our receptionist comes into the kitchen to ask when the entree would be ready and I schooled her on frozen fish and that it takes time to defrost properly whereby she and the other two staff say that they can nuke it.  Well, you can probably guess what my opinion of that was and no, it is not fit for printing.

Manuel, my ever-capable second in command finally arrives and we get into a small war of words over the fish and how to deal with it.  Now my Spanish is quite passable but when flustered for some reason the necessary words elude me and of course there is going to be misunderstandings.  I believe the word stupid was uttered by me but no, it was not directed at my staff but rather the goddamned fish that was mocking me with its lifeless eyes, tempting me to beat the shit out of it and declare an all-out war against it.

Manuel's eyes took on a menacing glare and it was the first time in working with him that I felt he was very angry.  I stood my ground and I said that I refuse to treat a fish the way that they would.  I know to some it may sound silly but I will not work with food in a substandard fashion nor will I ever send out what to me would be a substandard plate.

The fish is finally cooking, the client has his first course but the clock is ticking and I can tell that Manuel is pissed off, I am pissed off, the client is probably wondering what the fuck mayhem is ensuing - get the picture?  Then my cell phone rings and it is my cohort Andrea calling me from Guatemala City asking me what the fuck is going on.  Manuel had snuck out of the kitchen to call her and was threatening to leave and why?  Because my frustration was being misinterpreted.  Hearing that got me flustered.

Being the one "in charge" often-times creates a sense of isolation especially when one has to make some tough decisions that not everyone is going to like and when one's body language and words are not being fully understood a simple matter can turn into a small disaster in fast order.  On a day when lots of work was ahead this was not the time to be tested nor questioned and no, this had nada to do with my ego but more the sensitivities of those who worked with me and how resistant to needed change they could be. 

Compromise, when working in a new country, dealing with a culture different to yours is necessary but there are times when it must be demanded that your approaches and reasons for such be respected as well for after all, it is the primary reason as to why I am here.  As I said to Andrea who is a culinary school graduate, would you abuse a fish in that way?  Would you serve shit?  To put it succinctly these sorts of issues one can find in restaurants all over Central America and why - for the simple fact that they have known no other way and as we all know bad habits once ingrained are hard to break.

In the end the somewhat cooked fish got finished in the nuke.  I felt so demoralized.  After the client left I got back on the phone to Andrea and I stated my frustrations especially when she said to me that that was how things were done.  I told her that those things needed to be changed.  I reminded her of the dismal state of affairs I had walked into just one month ago and that if egos are gonna get bruised on occasion then so be it.  I reminded her that I had total respect for my staff but that I would not tolerate my methodologies being questioned for they were necessary and needed. 

In other words, why the hell was I here if the same old shit was going to continue.  I felt like packing up my knives and catching the first plane back to Canada but then I realized just how stupid on my part that would be and this great hotel with its wonderful, hard-working staff would be left to flounder and I was damned if I was gonna let one stinking fish fuck up a set of plans that have been working thus far.  More to come of course but with the right execution and pacing.

In the end Manuel and I were able to set aside this glitch and get down to the business of the catered affair.  We realized that our first duty was to our clients and the hotel and that we were professionals.  We established our rhythms and even though precious time had been wasted we were more than capable of pumping out the food on time.  That the diners were not ready to eat until an hour and a half after we had rushed to the finish line?  That issue is for another telling for that issue of not respecting the kitchen is universal and not just here.  If diners only understood the pressure that we are under to produce tasty and fresh food while soaked in sweat?  Civilians have no clue as to what we sometimes go through.

Manuel and I hugged and even though I wanted to strangle the painfully slow prep lady we had brought in to assist (for every potato she peeled I peeled five) I could not for she smiled at me so well and so nicely I could not be angry with her but at the end of my time last night I took her aside and in front of Manuel told her that she has much more to learn and that if she is willing I will invite her back more often to assist us.  Manuel was happy about that as I could see his frustration with her last night as well. 

So what lessons have been learned here?  For one, waiters must inform the kitchen immediately if a client is in a rush so that way the chef can tell the waiter to urge the client to order something else....something that takes less time but will be satisfactory.  Second, if there is a gap in communication, don't wait to deal with it, take care of it immediately so there are no further misunderstandings.  Thirdly, sometimes you just gotta let shit slide even if you do not agree with it because my friends, life can be a shit sandwich and we have all on occasion had to eat one.

Damn, ain't life a blast in the blast-furnace called a kitchen?  Hells yeah and I would not trade it for anything except maybe a good wave, a fat cheeseburger and a cold beer.