C'mon, Chef, 5 more minutes, please...
About 9:30 Chef Tony stops the class, tells us to pull our product out of the ovens, don't bother cleaning, and to leave the premises due to a tsunami warning. There was some initial shock in the class, people milling around, jabbering, lots of "what?" and "huh?" being thrown around. Soon people are checking their cell phones for information about our impending doom, offering up conflicting information about the nature of the warning. Meanwhile, I'm checking the temperature of a teabag stuffed chicken I've had in the oven for about an hour. The chicken was at about 150 degrees. 5 more minutes and I can call it done. Just 5 minutes.
Once the class settled down and began pulling and wrapping half prepared food for service tomorrow (should tomorrow ever come), it occurs to us that it's somewhat ridiculous to be stocking away food for tomorrow should a tsunami turn out basin of the City into a lake. But we put our food away, I waited for my chicken to get to temp, and we cleaned the kitchen before leaving anyway.
On the way out I wondered aloud to one of the Baking and Pastry program instructors what a tsunami would do to proofing dough. We decided that a torrent of sea water might change the hydration of the dough and that you'd probably have to start the dough again.
Outside, Zach, Red and I are near tears making jokes that I can't commit to this blog due to the level of lewd profanity.
So, is that dedication? In the face of possible calamity of a proportion I've never known I'm worried about my chicken getting up to temp before I bail out?
About 9:30 Chef Tony stops the class, tells us to pull our product out of the ovens, don't bother cleaning, and to leave the premises due to a tsunami warning. There was some initial shock in the class, people milling around, jabbering, lots of "what?" and "huh?" being thrown around. Soon people are checking their cell phones for information about our impending doom, offering up conflicting information about the nature of the warning. Meanwhile, I'm checking the temperature of a teabag stuffed chicken I've had in the oven for about an hour. The chicken was at about 150 degrees. 5 more minutes and I can call it done. Just 5 minutes.
Once the class settled down and began pulling and wrapping half prepared food for service tomorrow (should tomorrow ever come), it occurs to us that it's somewhat ridiculous to be stocking away food for tomorrow should a tsunami turn out basin of the City into a lake. But we put our food away, I waited for my chicken to get to temp, and we cleaned the kitchen before leaving anyway.
On the way out I wondered aloud to one of the Baking and Pastry program instructors what a tsunami would do to proofing dough. We decided that a torrent of sea water might change the hydration of the dough and that you'd probably have to start the dough again.
Outside, Zach, Red and I are near tears making jokes that I can't commit to this blog due to the level of lewd profanity.
So, is that dedication? In the face of possible calamity of a proportion I've never known I'm worried about my chicken getting up to temp before I bail out?
