Restaurants, Kitchens and Bars... Oh my!Many years ago, I went out with a chef. Kitchens are merely vice dens with food. You couldn't move for people bonking and snorting coke in the store room. And the things they did with the food...
My personal vice was chocolate mousse - I remember it being very calming in all the chaos around me. I think they put things in it.
Tell us your stories of working in kitchens, bars and the rest of the nightmare that is the catering trade.
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chthonic, Fri 21 Jul 2006, 9:58)
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Hot Kebab ActionUpon arriving in Manchester, I secured a job at a local Turkish Restaurant (bottom of Princes Street - "Topkapi"). After two weeks of swilling rancid lamb fat down the drain, interspersed with chopping onions, I was invited to accompany Mehmet and Altan for an evening's drinking. We started out at the local pub, to be greeted by the landlord gesticulating wildly and saying words to the effect of "you're not coming in here, you fucking snide bastards". Fortunately, Mehmet knew of a more welcoming establishment...after several pints of pissy lager in Piccadilly 21s, Altan pointed at a blonde lass on the dancefloor and whispered "cowfoot, get me that girl". My half-hearted refusal was countered by Mehmet pulling up his shirt and displaying a 9" bowie knife. I managed to get to the bar, bought the blonde a drink and persuaded her to sit down next to my two colleagues. Then I left, and signed on the next day.
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wotofco pissing in your swimming pool, Sat 22 Jul 2006, 17:24,
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