Very late to the party here as I just caught up but, as someone who's spent a large amount of time grilling on a Josper, there's certainly a Dark Art to bread on those. The darkness comes from the 100 you burn before it starts to make any sense.
16 parts and you’re only getting stronger at this style of memoir. Enjoyed the characters in this one. Also, I’ve made it a habit of listening to your main pieces and I think you’re also improving from a VO perspective. Strong work here amigo great job
I think as chefs we all can smirk at the most obscure situations. I’m really not sure many others understand. I was describing dying a pastry chef green to someone recently. It all seems quite matter of fact to most chefs, but the sheer horror on their faces as I told how he was tinged verdant green for three days made me realise that chefs have a particularly grotesque sense of humour.
When I tell people I miss the kitchen days of my youth, I mean the banter. Not the grill and fryer burns up and down the arms, not the days so long on the feet that the arches scream, not the gallons of sweat or the grease smell that a thousand showers at 1,000,000° can’t wash out... it’s always the people, the ones with impeccable timing who can dish and take and it don’t mean nothing.
You certainly do! I just recommended you so others can get to know you. I have a teenie amount of subscribers but their smart enough to read a great pieces!
I love love love your writing . I also love food. I’m also anxiety-stricken getting ready for a long trip and trying to deal with and figure out Substack. I will return. Thank you for this!
Damn! You survived intack and with humor! This piece has forced me to feeling I owe you to move up to a paid subscription just to get rid of my PTSD for a being a short order cook in a tiny diner
Part 16: As good as the last steak you cooked
Very late to the party here as I just caught up but, as someone who's spent a large amount of time grilling on a Josper, there's certainly a Dark Art to bread on those. The darkness comes from the 100 you burn before it starts to make any sense.
16 parts and you’re only getting stronger at this style of memoir. Enjoyed the characters in this one. Also, I’ve made it a habit of listening to your main pieces and I think you’re also improving from a VO perspective. Strong work here amigo great job
I think as chefs we all can smirk at the most obscure situations. I’m really not sure many others understand. I was describing dying a pastry chef green to someone recently. It all seems quite matter of fact to most chefs, but the sheer horror on their faces as I told how he was tinged verdant green for three days made me realise that chefs have a particularly grotesque sense of humour.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When I tell people I miss the kitchen days of my youth, I mean the banter. Not the grill and fryer burns up and down the arms, not the days so long on the feet that the arches scream, not the gallons of sweat or the grease smell that a thousand showers at 1,000,000° can’t wash out... it’s always the people, the ones with impeccable timing who can dish and take and it don’t mean nothing.
Kitchen banter is truly missed in my life, as I cook alone. Thanks again Will, beautifully read too.
Laughed out loud and also winced at this 😅
Well-written - great stories that stimulated my memories - some good, and like you, some very, very funny!
You certainly do! I just recommended you so others can get to know you. I have a teenie amount of subscribers but their smart enough to read a great pieces!
I love love love your writing . I also love food. I’m also anxiety-stricken getting ready for a long trip and trying to deal with and figure out Substack. I will return. Thank you for this!
Damn! You survived intack and with humor! This piece has forced me to feeling I owe you to move up to a paid subscription just to get rid of my PTSD for a being a short order cook in a tiny diner