Life In The Fast Lane Part 1

Chapter 263

Life In The Fast Lane

Part 1

Living life in the fast lane can be complicated at times, but the thing that makes it work is organization. I was more than glad to be back in the kitchen where I didn’t have to worry about acting and here I could be myself. I stepped out of the locker room wearing my clean nice white chef’s jacket that had my name embroidered on it that said Nate Carrion across the left pocket.

I wore a baseball cap that said Tangle Hearts with the shadow image of me and Mark on the front kissing turned into a heart. Stringum wanted us all to wear one too help promote our movie. Believing that we will actually be able to make the movie we want without all the cheesy sex scenes. Right now he wanted everyone to know about the movie. So when it hit the shelves it would stir our crazy world into a frenzy.

For the moment I put all that behind me, I didn’t have time anymore to focus on the movie. I took a deep breath and picked up the clipboard and begin my long shift, with no sleep, no rest worthy of calling it rest. Grabbed a cup of coffee and cringing about the taste, but I knew it would keep me on my feet, or I hoped it would. My reality soon set in as I made the rounds that this party was mostly resting upon my shoulders. Dad and all the fathers, and teens were put to work the moment we were done shooting.

I quickly set them to work. Finding out what needed to be done and what needed my attention first. Nothing of the meal was done, other than prep like. Bakers washed and ready to be put in the ovens, Chicken thawed waiting to be pounded flat, ham sliced, bread crumbs dried and ready to go right on down to salad and dessert. Everything was waiting on me to give the word go. I knew it was going to be a long day for me, but I didn’t have time to worry about that.

Once I had made the rounds checking my inventory and where everything stood. I divided up my team into categories based on what they can do and what they can’t do or learn to do quickly. The final count as of last night was 1,950 RSVP. With another 400 tickets that could be sold at the door, and another 200 tickets given away for gifts, prizes and important clients as well as staff. Equaling 2, 550 give or take. Chef Phelps stated that to plan on at least 2,600 stating if it wasn’t a buffet menu we would need an exact count and still do a few extra.

The number was staggering being as it was hard enough to do 50 covers by myself in a few hours, back then it was a lot. Now it is just a drop in the bucket after doing that three times a day feeding a college and then doing extra catering parties on the side. Yes, that was nothing compared to what I would be doing in the future, but still quite impressive for a teen chef to do it on any level, plus the fact and in truth I wasn’t preparing it all by myself, I had kitchen staff at my fingertips.

I organized myself quickly by placing everything that needed to be in the ovens I had at my disposal and prep space. I groaned inward that I need time to teach my crew first on what I wanted them to do. Even though I myself had only made each of the dishes once myself, and some of my personal prep cooks. Now I needed to re-teach it because Dad and the other fathers and teens that have never worked in a kitchen before or at least only at home at best didn’t know my menu, didn’t know one single thing how to get from A to B to Z without me teaching them.

So I quickly chose my team captains. The ones that have at least some of experience in the kitchen and have prepared or watched me prepare this menu. Like Kirk, Greg and the two Philips boys Luke and Martin. I sent Greg to the bakery with Bishop Earl and Bishop Sakes and few of the teen boys I didn’t know that came to help because of the free food mostly and the extra credit that they would get at school. I sent Dad and Mr. Vincent and Bishop Sakes boys Hank and West out to the workmen’s dining room.

Everyone else was busy as runners and dishwashers. Leaving Mark, and Eli in charge of them making sure everything was kept clean, from the tables, pots and pans and floors. In total, I had about 50 people working for me to make sure this fundraiser dinner went off without a hitch.

Chef Philips was my floater and Chef Mack was my lead go to boss making sure everyone had something to do and was doing it right. Landon was busy with the rest of the younger kids and few older ones plus a few male teachers loading up napkins, tablecloths, and centerpieces to take down to the event center. While all the women and girls were busy getting their hair, and nails done.

Franklin and his team of makeup artist had set up a beauty parlor in the high school gym for those that wanted a little something extra and finding everything they need in one central location; including makeup suggestions and hair coloring right on down to dress fittings, for a few extra dollars that would go to the school for teaching supplies.

Plus it took off stress off the only beauty parlor in town, having them join forces with our makeup artists who set up a nice little open shop inside the gym with several dress shops, and male clothing stores and few Halloween costumes for the kids.

Stringum liked the idea of make a buck when and wherever he can, but today he was busy playing Mr. Tate. Having spread the rumor that Stringum was taking care of business in Salt Lake where we were having the fundraiser; which was a believable story with the main event being held in less than 42 hours.

I had started with the twice bakers. Having Kirk and Eli put them all in the ovens it would take 5 to 6 rounds to cook them all. With an hour apart from each round with the ovens I had available to me. Once they were cooking I set my watch and begin the 42-hour count down.

The prime rib would have to go in the ovens no later than 2 am in the morning, so they cook slowly and still be tender and juicy and not overcooked sitting in the hot carts. I wanted them all at least rare to medium rare, by serving time.

Because you can’t take a well-done roast and turn it back to medium, but you can take a rare to medium or medium rare to well done. So I was going for in-between hot rare and a close-medium rare, allowing me plenty of time to cook them here and the rest at the event center and finish cooking or reheating them to perfection. I was trusting Mr. Philips knowledge that it was possible to do this. We both had a lot riding on this.

Once the bakers had started I moved on to my next category, which was the cordon-bleu’s knowing there was a lot of prep to make them. I had Kirk and Martin set up the station out in the dining room. Being I couldn’t fit everyone inside the kitchen with only three prep stations, Chef Mack’s wife was already spread out to taking half the kitchen making the seven layer salad and prepping like a crazy person. Running a ten person crew including the additional help I have given her.

The bakery was crowed as well with Greg and our head barker Lyle using every surfs plating up deserts and getting them ready to be loaded on to the waiting Si mi for the first trip of things going down to the Event Center. It was like a mad house with people running in and out the back door pushing food carts covered with plastic. Chef Mack’s wife was also hurrying so she and her staff could be down there, with everything they need, which only left me my personal chef’s prep table.

Stating there was no way I could pound 2,550 chickens and turn them into cordon- bleu's and also prepare 2,550 twice baked potatoes, prep my German green beans, prep my candied carrots. All on my little prep station, and thank god I didn’t have too and solved my mass chicken production by simply doing it all out in the workers dining room now that it was closed for the remainder of winter.

I pulled out 6 large meat tenderizing hammers and a big box of food cart liners and took them out to the dining room. Having Kirk and Martin bring out all the thawed chicken from the fridge and 5 large food cart dollies and trays to put them on so once the chicken was flattened, rolled with ham and Swiss cheese they would be able to put them on the large sheet pans and put them directly into the freezer so they can be firm enough to bread.

Once I had enough to start my instructions, I had them watch how I wanted them to do it. Laying the chicken breast on the long tables in the dining room that had been scrubbed down and sanitized; lining the chicken to cover part of the table skin side up or shiny side up, enough for a good demonstration. Then laid the plastic liner on top of the chicken and beat the hell out of it feeling dizzy from the lack of sleep and lack of energy. I shrugged it off by shaking my head, but my body trembled a little.

Dad asked if I was alright. I quickly nodded that I was faking a smile. I knew Dad didn’t believe me, he knew me too well that I was suffering from sleep desperation, but he didn’t say anything afraid that it would make me look weak in front of everyone and knowing there was nothing he or I could about it.

Knowing I needed to put my big boy pants on and work my way through it. I then turned over the chicken and placed the slices ham on the chicken and the Swiss cheese and rolled it and set it on the tray explaining to them to fill the entire sheet pan.

Giving me 100 cords per tray, and put the tray on the food dollies so Martin or Kirk and put them into the freezer so we can bread them when they are nice and firm. Dad said simple enough and everyone grabbed a hammer and divided the table into small groups creating an assembly line passing out assignments on who would do what allowing everyone to get a turn.

Mark cranked up the radio and everyone quickly went to work. I left them to it, and made my rounds, then started prepping twice baked potatoes. Doing my garlic, onions, shredded cheddar cheese and most important my ranch dressing. Everything was made from scratch using Chef Philips recipes. I only had about 30 to 45 minutes before the first batch of potatoes were out of the ovens.

Thank god for Chef Philips and Chef Mack making sure I had enough to start with, giving me the time I needed to teach my crew what they needed to know to help prepare my menu. Plus the fact I had to find time for the last deliveries for the stuff I would need, or I wouldn’t have had all the chicken, all my roasts of prime rib, 10 cases of potatoes and the rest of my carrots. Plus everything else I was short on when the final count was in. My job was to check it in then let my brown little mice put it away so my other mice could prep it.

The clock was like a green-eyed monster, as it ticked away eating every single minute of my time. I couldn’t watch the clock after the last hour flew by which only seemed like minutes. I took a deep breath, and focused on my task at hand, feeling weak and very tired. Wanting nothing more than too lie down and close my eyes, feeling my eyes drupe slowly and having to shake myself drinking more cups of coffee and lots of coke a cola just to give me a little pick me up.

I couldn’t afford being seen weak; I couldn’t afford the luxury of climbing into bed. Everyone was counting on me to make this fundraiser a big success. I told myself over and over, I can sleep when I have everything done.

Everyone was working hard, as we had a quick little lull because we ran out of chicken that wasn’t thawed. So I switched out some of my chicken guys and had them help me with twice bakers. While the chicken was thawing in the sink under running water, and only need a few to bread the ones that were ready, after a quick demonstration of the breading process.

I ran into a problem of not enough pans and conferred with Chef Philips that we didn’t have enough hotel long pans to cook the chicken and the twice bakers. Plus the seven-layer salads. We decided that we could cook the cords in bigger batches if they stayed on the sheet trays. Then transfer them after they were cooked to the hotel pans that would fit in the chaffing dishes since we would then have the pans back from the seven layer salad as well as the ones from empty pans from the bakery.

It was more work but there was no other option, which meant more work for me and my kitchen staff. I was told to add a cookie sheet liner so we could transfer the chicken easily so it wouldn’t stick to the sheet tray.

However as much as I would have had liked to do the same for the twice bakers, it would be impossible to transfer them once they were hot, making a big mess of them that they wouldn’t look pretty when served. Yet I could do it before cooking them, saving me, even more, hotel pans for the chicken, so I would have something to start with for them and the twice bakers.

I also had to hold back 10 hotel pans for the chicken tenders, and the fries for the kids or anyone that wanted chicken tenders and fries. I was glad that I wasn’t cooking them today, they were going to be cooked on need bases, and would be put on the semi the moment they arrived so I could have the space I need in the big walk-in coolers and freezers.

Everything was working on rails once everyone knew their duties, but for me, that clock monster on the wall told me we were hours away from being done. It had only been two hours, and all we had accomplished was 500 servings of chicken, 250 servings of twice baked potatoes and had potatoes cooling and piling up. There was no way we could work any faster with 8 guys huddling around the only two big mixing bowls scooping out potato skins.

Chef Philips asked if I figured out my problem and the obstacle I was facing. I had a huge headache popping 4 extra strength Tylenol asking me if he needs to step in.

I shook my head no, said that I was fine and that I made the mistake of doing everything at once, based on how much I could get done quickly. He said looking at the clock and helped me work out a time schedule, using approximate times it takes for my crew to pump out product. That I should stagger my cooking times so that the product I was cooking will meet the demands.

Everything is about organization and timing; potatoes take approximate 45 minutes to an hour. It takes my team 20 minutes per pan to scoop out the potatoes. It takes me approximate 15 minutes to mix them and season them, and another 45 minutes to re-fill the potato skins per tray.

Which meant I was cooking too many potatoes at once because I was trying to do it all at once in a single hour; thinking I could cook them all in 5 hours. Wasting more then I was making having them turn cold and harder to scoop out. I groaned inward looking at the clock monster on the wall; realizing it would take my team 5 to 7 hours alone just for the twice bakers using a staggering cooking method. 

Quickly calculated that if I did 8 trays of potatoes using a double stack oven, that, that would be plenty of potatoes for them to do before the next batch would be done, with a 10 to a fifteen-minute window.

I didn’t like it, because it meant we were going to be here just cooking potatoes and turning them into twice bakers until 10 or 11 o’clock tonight or longer. I was making more progress on the chicken then I was on the twice baked. 

Which was good, because that meant I could use that crew elsewhere, then there was this other problem. I needed to find time to go down to the event center and make sure everything was on schedule. Not to mention I had to inspect the pumpkins and the decor and make sure my bakery and my salad staff had everything they needed before they turned in for the night.

Living in the fast line is harder then it looks, but like they say you push yourself until you can’t push yourself anymore and dig deeper until your either dead or succeed.