Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Dickhead Chefs?

So a new dish we're trialling at work has braised lettuce on it.

Essentially I get a nice Cos or Butter Lettuce or even a Radicchio and I cook the living shit out of it in butter and if I'm feeling a bit funky that day, maybe some mollasses.

However the new waitress is a bit of a health freak balanced out with a mild drinking problem.

Now, this dish is banging. The only thing we're still working on is lowering the Cost On Plate.

But Miss IAteAPieceOfCeleryWithSaltReducedCottageCheeseForBreakfast, has a problem with this.

"What the hell Chef!! You've just taken a perfectly healthy food and ... And ... BASTARDISED it!!"

"No. I took a perfectly boring food and made it better."

When I want healthy, (and I often do, because it helps clear the guilt from the weekend benders and all the drunken 3am cupboard raids) I eat at home.

Going out is for splurging. No I am not going to cook healthily in my restaurant all the time. I am already quite well adjusted to the minds of the Soccer Mums of North Melbourne County and I do oblige accordingly.

But when I go out, I don't want what I can make at home. I want different, I want exciting, for fuck's sake I want FAT!

There is nothing wrong with salad. Just like there's nothing wrong with good old missionary position.

Doesn't mean you want it every single night...

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