- Bottle opener in the pants. The standard uniform for female bartenders of happy hour places are the ubiquitous black stretch pants and a revealing top. Neither of those options provide a sanitary place to tote a bottle opener. Too often I see it tucked in the side, against the bare skin of the bartender. That is why I will only order draft beer or mixed drinks when I see that. Gross. Also note: pockets are also not acceptable places to carry bottle openers.
- Check holder in the pants. I saw this one just the other day. You know that sleek black folder that usually has a credit card logo on the front that your check arrives in? I usually only open these with a napkin. Too often I find them tucked into the pants at the lower back of a waiter. In the violation I witnessed this week, the waiter also had pants that were too low, so I saw the holder stashed immediately touching his underwear. Luckily he wasn't my server or the manager of that establishment would still be talking about the scene I caused. Gross.
- Refilling fountain beverages with used glasses. This one is not as obvious, but - if there is a glass that has been sipped from, it should not be placed anywhere near a fountain soda dispenser or beer tap. It's the same as going back to a buffet with a dirty dish, just an easy way to spread germs. I know it can burden a restaurant to use fresh glasses all the time, but I'd soon rather be given a disposable cup than think about what germs my glass encountered on that trip. This is made even more gross with a used straw sticking out of it.
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Sunday
I Didn't Order a Side of Bacteria with That!
As I get older I am definitely more conscious of germs, bacteria and other pathogens. From being in the food biz I've taken too many classes on cross contamination, hand washing and how to keep patrons from getting sick. Maybe this is why some things I see in restaurants & bars really bother me. Here are a few of the violations I see too frequently:
Thursday
The Next Wave for Oceana
The restaurant Oceana in NY always held a special place in my heart. NYT Off the menu reports it has moved! When I was in culinary school, I approached then sous chef Michael Schenk at a food fundraiser and asked if I might be able to do my externship at Oceana. He said that they were highly coveted positions and they usually asked people to 'stage' first before setting it in stone. Stage is a time for a young chef to test a place out, and vice versa, for free. Still a common practice and very necessary. The very next night I walked into the teeny kitchen at Oceana. I didn't dare tell anyone it was my first time in a real restaurant kitchen. My nerves were so shaky I could barely plate the hearts of romaine caesar salad. Being German, Michael Schenk gave lessons on how to pour German beer in between expediting orders. The kitchen was run by uber successful Rick Moonen. It was intense. Everything smelled delicious. They took pastry so seriously there was an entirely separate kitchen for it. It was brand new to me. It was surreal.
I persevered for over a month, about 4 nights a week. I learned to chiffonnade. I made taramasalata but never learned how to spell it. It was the age of 'everything' crusted tuna loin and I was in awe that someone worked inches from a deep fryer all night. Everything had to be perfect. They cared. They taught. They were never degrading. In the end they weren't enrolled in my school's approved program and I had to leave for another restaurant. I bought Paul there for dinner, it was comp-ed (yay! $$$) and the head waiter said he recognized only my eyes, which he would see peering through the service window. They used the old school method of head waiters and side waiters. The head waiters were all in their 50s and did not tolerate the 'can't have garlic, onions cut crosswise or greens that have not been pre-chewed for me' crowd.
My time there was my first exposure to late night imbibing with the guys - this was my first experience as the only female in a kitchen, one that would happen too often. Monkey Bar across the street, still there, still notorious for changing owners more often than the bar mats - was divine.
In school I won a contest to choose the name for the new student newspaper (a la carte) and won a free dinner to any restaurant I chose. Paul and I went back to Oceana and racked up a $300 bill. I ordered calvados with an apple tart for dessert and got a rewarding nod of approval over the reading glasses of the aging waiter. To this day when we encounter a similar method of approval, we call it the 'calvados nod'. We also went there for a few anniversaries. This is how I remember white asparagus is in season in late April - it was always on the menu at that time.
The inside of Oceana was made to look like an ocean liner. The walls decked with murals to make you think you were on the open sea. They were best known for a copper fish that hung above the second floor bar, all nestled in a narrow but tall townhouse. I don't doubt that the same quality will endure in the new location. Oceana attracts and develops culinary talents (Christopher Lee before he was a somebody!) and will continue to do so. Translating the character of a townhouse with a restaurant with so much history will be hard to mimic in a modern, redesigned space. Rose just let go of Jack and he is sinking to the ocean floor.
I persevered for over a month, about 4 nights a week. I learned to chiffonnade. I made taramasalata but never learned how to spell it. It was the age of 'everything' crusted tuna loin and I was in awe that someone worked inches from a deep fryer all night. Everything had to be perfect. They cared. They taught. They were never degrading. In the end they weren't enrolled in my school's approved program and I had to leave for another restaurant. I bought Paul there for dinner, it was comp-ed (yay! $$$) and the head waiter said he recognized only my eyes, which he would see peering through the service window. They used the old school method of head waiters and side waiters. The head waiters were all in their 50s and did not tolerate the 'can't have garlic, onions cut crosswise or greens that have not been pre-chewed for me' crowd.
My time there was my first exposure to late night imbibing with the guys - this was my first experience as the only female in a kitchen, one that would happen too often. Monkey Bar across the street, still there, still notorious for changing owners more often than the bar mats - was divine.
In school I won a contest to choose the name for the new student newspaper (a la carte) and won a free dinner to any restaurant I chose. Paul and I went back to Oceana and racked up a $300 bill. I ordered calvados with an apple tart for dessert and got a rewarding nod of approval over the reading glasses of the aging waiter. To this day when we encounter a similar method of approval, we call it the 'calvados nod'. We also went there for a few anniversaries. This is how I remember white asparagus is in season in late April - it was always on the menu at that time.
The inside of Oceana was made to look like an ocean liner. The walls decked with murals to make you think you were on the open sea. They were best known for a copper fish that hung above the second floor bar, all nestled in a narrow but tall townhouse. I don't doubt that the same quality will endure in the new location. Oceana attracts and develops culinary talents (Christopher Lee before he was a somebody!) and will continue to do so. Translating the character of a townhouse with a restaurant with so much history will be hard to mimic in a modern, redesigned space. Rose just let go of Jack and he is sinking to the ocean floor.
Wednesday
KFC
Wasn't their motto, "We do chicken right"? Well, I can certainly see why they ditched it. I knew that KFC fried chicken is a guilty pleasure of Pinky's. He worked at Roy Rogers in high school and developed a taste for it, then most of the Roy's disappeared. He was kind enough to have it on nights when I wouldn't be home for dinner - and dispose of the packaging before I got home. The first time I took a bite (age 25 or so) the salt content knocked me over. Sometimes I would steal a piece of his if it was in the fridge. Luckily, it has been in the fridge less and less since we discovered I make pretty decent fried chicken (and slamming buffalo wings!).
Fast forward, present day, fast food is sometimes in our rotation after the gym. That can't make sense, can it? Well, if you're avoiding carbs, and it's 8pm - the last thing I'm doing after a long day is making dinner. Sometimes we head to Boston Market where it's easy to assemble a carb friendly meal (double side of creamed spinach or creamed spinach and broccoli or green beans), other times we might head to the salad bar of our gourmet grocery. Last night we went to KFC for their grilled chicken which is being promoted by Sandra Lee. That should have been a sign. I despise this woman mostly because she matches her shirt to the background decor on her show and it makes me want to puke. Pinky said he had KFC's grilled chicken when he was fully a bachelor one of the other million times we've tried to avoid carbs, and it was decent. Well. Last night's chicken was far from decent.
Have you ever seen a grill in a KFC? Nope. I submit that the chicken is flash grilled with the skin off for appearance sake, then frozen and shipped where it sits in a hot oven for hours until someone is silly enough to order it. If they left the skin on it would help the flavor, but not the fat content, and grilled chicken skin doesn't exactly adhere well to the meat. The piece of chicken was so small I thought they were doing a Cornish hen promo for a minute. Dry, sad, a shameful waste of an animal who gave its life for my stomach.
And the sides. Yikes. Pinky's green beans may have been green at some point, but were not when they got to his plate. Coleslaw was acceptable, and my corn on the cob wasn't awful, until they told me they only had ketchup packs of government invented margarine to smear on it. My side salad would have been acceptable if they provided anything other than a SPORK to eat it with. How very junior high of them. Wait, the food in junior high was better. The 'veal' patties weren't half bad when you piled it with every condiment available. I should have taken a cue from when I ordered the salad and they reacted as if the health department just walked in. I take it that is not a common request there. Blah.
Fast forward, present day, fast food is sometimes in our rotation after the gym. That can't make sense, can it? Well, if you're avoiding carbs, and it's 8pm - the last thing I'm doing after a long day is making dinner. Sometimes we head to Boston Market where it's easy to assemble a carb friendly meal (double side of creamed spinach or creamed spinach and broccoli or green beans), other times we might head to the salad bar of our gourmet grocery. Last night we went to KFC for their grilled chicken which is being promoted by Sandra Lee. That should have been a sign. I despise this woman mostly because she matches her shirt to the background decor on her show and it makes me want to puke. Pinky said he had KFC's grilled chicken when he was fully a bachelor one of the other million times we've tried to avoid carbs, and it was decent. Well. Last night's chicken was far from decent.
Have you ever seen a grill in a KFC? Nope. I submit that the chicken is flash grilled with the skin off for appearance sake, then frozen and shipped where it sits in a hot oven for hours until someone is silly enough to order it. If they left the skin on it would help the flavor, but not the fat content, and grilled chicken skin doesn't exactly adhere well to the meat. The piece of chicken was so small I thought they were doing a Cornish hen promo for a minute. Dry, sad, a shameful waste of an animal who gave its life for my stomach.
And the sides. Yikes. Pinky's green beans may have been green at some point, but were not when they got to his plate. Coleslaw was acceptable, and my corn on the cob wasn't awful, until they told me they only had ketchup packs of government invented margarine to smear on it. My side salad would have been acceptable if they provided anything other than a SPORK to eat it with. How very junior high of them. Wait, the food in junior high was better. The 'veal' patties weren't half bad when you piled it with every condiment available. I should have taken a cue from when I ordered the salad and they reacted as if the health department just walked in. I take it that is not a common request there. Blah.
Tuesday
Not Pure Premium Packaging
Not many products have memorable packaging. Sunny delight does. Philadelphia cream cheese does. Bombay sapphire does. Now, imagine Philly cream cheese in a red tub instead of it's classic silver rectangle. Imagine Sunny D looking like a gallon of milk. And Bombay sapphire, imagine that as a behind-the-counter fifth of a liter instead of it's gorgeous blue glass. This entire departure from recognizable packaging is what Tropicana did. Old packaging on the left, new on the right. When I first saw the new carton at a meeting last month, I thought it was a generic brand. On it, 100% orange is more prominent than Tropicana. I likened it to a bland, white label black print store brand of canned beans. The only intriguing part of the new package was that the orange pour cap now looked like the outside of an orange. "Interesting, I wonder how much that adds to the price?" I thought.
I know, too much obsessing over a carton. Same juice and that's all that matters, right? Not to consumers. Tropicana is ditching the new packaging and returning to the familiar. Smart. Click my witty title for full, journalistic write-up.
Sunday
Worst Review Ever
I often delight in the ridiculousness of comments on Epicurious. People write about how they changed the recipe and then review the changed recipe. I'm guilty of it myself. Here, is something I would NEVER confess to online:
05/18/02A Cook from Racine, WI
After reading the reviews I just had to make this for a company dinner. I needed enough mushrooms for 8 people which took me nearly 8 hours to find in area woods, never having looked for these before. At dinner everybody just loved the dish. However, its what happened about 30 min. after that was the problem. I'll just say having 8 people trying to use the bathroom at the same time was very embarrassing. I later found out that in this area we spray for insects which makes the wild morels undigestable by humans. Next time I'll use portabello, that is if anyone will eat it again.
05/18/02A Cook from Racine, WI
After reading the reviews I just had to make this for a company dinner. I needed enough mushrooms for 8 people which took me nearly 8 hours to find in area woods, never having looked for these before. At dinner everybody just loved the dish. However, its what happened about 30 min. after that was the problem. I'll just say having 8 people trying to use the bathroom at the same time was very embarrassing. I later found out that in this area we spray for insects which makes the wild morels undigestable by humans. Next time I'll use portabello, that is if anyone will eat it again.
The last line should read, "That is if anyone will eat my cooking again." The cook notes she'd use portobellos next time. I think a great substitute for morels would be dried porcini. Both have a meaty earthiness that portobellos just can't shake a stick at. Props for foraging for mushrooms, though. The original recipe is for fettuccine with morels, asparagus and goat cheese. It is something I'd like to serve at a spring, asparagus themed dinner. Here will be the first course, asparagus soup with Parmesan custard.
Friday
The Rain Delay is Over
I can't believe it's been more than 3 weeks since my last post. My sincerest apologies to my swarms of readers. What have I been up to you ask? My captive husband was best man at his brother's wedding in Minneapolis. With that union one of my favorite men married one of my favorite friends. A match made in heaven, a real star couple. Look for a full report on the state of the food in Minneapolis here soon.
We've also been moving. Into our first house. Check out my other rarely updated blog to see some photos of that project. I made my first meal there the other night. What a treat. I feel like an abused child that has been chained to a radiator (and Justin Timberlake wasn't my man like in Black Snake Moan) who has just been let free. The kitchen in our apartment of many years used to be a closet. Need I say more? It's 8 feet long and 3 feet wide. The refrigerator resides in the living room it's so small. Tiny, old electric stove. No room for flipping flapjacks or pizza dough. The trade off was worth it - endure that kitchen to live with my man. Food is my career, that's how much my man means to me. Now... I get the great husband in a kick ass kitchen. A gas stove with high power burners and slow simmer options. A warming drawer. 3 racks in the oven instead of one and now my half sheet pans will fit in them for baking. A dishwasher. A huge sink and oodles of counter space. All in sparkly stainless steel. Wow golly gosh I wanted to cry. When I was plating salads I was flustered for a moment because I was about to plate one and deliver it and repeat which is what I had to do before when serving guests. Now I put all the plates on the counter at once! Imagine the possibilities!
My first meal was quick because we were moving boxes and furniture. I bought some good quality ravioli, ditto vodka sauce, crab meat and some basil pesto. I simmered the sauce, added the crab and some pasta water - plated and drizzled some pesto over. Terrific! Not gourmet but classy. Tonight we drank dark and stormys on the sun porch relaxing after a long day. Bourbon with spicy ginger beer - yumm. Living in a normal size house, yeah - I'll take it.
We've also been moving. Into our first house. Check out my other rarely updated blog to see some photos of that project. I made my first meal there the other night. What a treat. I feel like an abused child that has been chained to a radiator (and Justin Timberlake wasn't my man like in Black Snake Moan) who has just been let free. The kitchen in our apartment of many years used to be a closet. Need I say more? It's 8 feet long and 3 feet wide. The refrigerator resides in the living room it's so small. Tiny, old electric stove. No room for flipping flapjacks or pizza dough. The trade off was worth it - endure that kitchen to live with my man. Food is my career, that's how much my man means to me. Now... I get the great husband in a kick ass kitchen. A gas stove with high power burners and slow simmer options. A warming drawer. 3 racks in the oven instead of one and now my half sheet pans will fit in them for baking. A dishwasher. A huge sink and oodles of counter space. All in sparkly stainless steel. Wow golly gosh I wanted to cry. When I was plating salads I was flustered for a moment because I was about to plate one and deliver it and repeat which is what I had to do before when serving guests. Now I put all the plates on the counter at once! Imagine the possibilities!
My first meal was quick because we were moving boxes and furniture. I bought some good quality ravioli, ditto vodka sauce, crab meat and some basil pesto. I simmered the sauce, added the crab and some pasta water - plated and drizzled some pesto over. Terrific! Not gourmet but classy. Tonight we drank dark and stormys on the sun porch relaxing after a long day. Bourbon with spicy ginger beer - yumm. Living in a normal size house, yeah - I'll take it.
Monday
Eating Live - Tossed Edition
Thanks to the connectivity of my new Dell XPS laptop I am now free to report on the goings on of my gullet regularly, and from anywhere.
Just getting to brunch at 3:30 PM. An artfully self prepared container from Genuardi's salad bar. 3 sections consisting of romaine, spinach and field greens topped with olives, hard boiled eggs and chick peas (ceci for our European friends). Some shaved "parmesan" an blue cheese dressing and I was happy. Section 2 - slices of broccoli and cheese stromboli. Yes, I had to give my salad a side dish. Section 3- cantaloupe, honeydew and strawberries dressed with poppy seed dressing. A sweet and light finish to a nice lunch.
I make it into the car, place the bag with salad on the front seat just a tad off kilter and WHAM! The top popped off the container and the salad exploded in the bag. Luckily since it was all in the bag I was able to salvage it. There's no consoling the taste buds once you've had strawberries mixed with green olives. Chickpeas and poppy seeds probably weren't meant to get married either. Could be worse, I could be riding with a salad grenade as my navigator.
Just getting to brunch at 3:30 PM. An artfully self prepared container from Genuardi's salad bar. 3 sections consisting of romaine, spinach and field greens topped with olives, hard boiled eggs and chick peas (ceci for our European friends). Some shaved "parmesan" an blue cheese dressing and I was happy. Section 2 - slices of broccoli and cheese stromboli. Yes, I had to give my salad a side dish. Section 3- cantaloupe, honeydew and strawberries dressed with poppy seed dressing. A sweet and light finish to a nice lunch.
I make it into the car, place the bag with salad on the front seat just a tad off kilter and WHAM! The top popped off the container and the salad exploded in the bag. Luckily since it was all in the bag I was able to salvage it. There's no consoling the taste buds once you've had strawberries mixed with green olives. Chickpeas and poppy seeds probably weren't meant to get married either. Could be worse, I could be riding with a salad grenade as my navigator.
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