Then Rosa entered the game. September 8, 2008
You know. I sit here and I write in my blog and think that the problems of the world of stick to me like a magnet. Not true. At any given time on any given day someone is underestimating someone. On Friday it was Antonio Rosa, my nephew. He sat on the bench for the first 43 minutes of his football game.
My sister called to tell me how great he did on his game so I called him to say congrats. His level of excitement was blah at best.
“You don’t sound excited.”
-”It was just a regular day” he responded in his usual slow drawl
I assumed that he was just being too cool for school with his response. Then Jessica sent me the link of the story written.
TONY ROCKED THEM BAMAS!
I read the article and grew increasingly excited by the minute. Turns out “Up to Rosa’s entry, and Eagles victory was far from certain.” Tony got his entrance to the game when two people got hurt. That part was unfortunate but the fact that he blew everybody’s mind when he entered is nothing to sneeze at. I’d like to think that Tony is just being modest and understating his role. If it was me I’d go out and buy a tee shirt with the newspaper article screened printed on it…. just in case someone missed.
I don’t get excited about football much and the only reason I know anything about it, is because my boyfriend in high school played and asked me to come watch. My friend Sherry sat there and tried to give me the gist of the game in ten minutes. I didn’t cheer when something good happened. I just sat there and acted too cool for school. So this is me now… standing on my seat… holding a sign… face painted and yelling until I’m hoarse.
“Go Tony Ro Ro! Go!”
Check it out yourselves:
| http://www.montereyherald.com/sports/ci_10403906?nclick_check=1 |
Seemingly normal day August 25, 2008
It seemed like such a normal day this morning and I guess it was. I got here and started what is my usual day. A little while ago I was getting ready to leave and and one of our managers came by. I thought we were going to talk about something else. We’ve been having a group of people come in stealing. I just knew that was what it was about. I joked with my bosses as we stepped in the back room because after all it was just a regular day.
He told us that our store manager passed away. All our mouths dropped. I just saw him. I know that’s what people always say but that’s all I could think. He’s been out ill but came in a few days ago. I asked him how he was feeling. “Better.” I wanted to say more but he seemed in a hurry and I was in the middle of something.
My shift was over so I started walking out to leave not really sure what to think.
“What a way to end the day. I guess I’ll go home and live…”
…Like you were dying?” replied Shawna and I just nodded.
Unfortunately it takes things like this to happen to make you realize… here today, gone tomorrow is not just an expression. Tell someone you love them today. Do that thing you were meaning to do because well… you never know.
We’ll miss you Jerry.
Golden Feeling August 21, 2008
I’m enjoying today. It’s a new holiday in Panama. One to celebrate the first Gold medal ever achieved by a Panamanian. I tip my chef hat to you, Irving Saladino. You put us on the map. Of only four Olympic hopefuls from our country, you got the job done. So many of us come from so far to make a mark and you made the biggest one of all. You inspire us to try harder, run faster, do better, to be Gold. A little black boy from Colon has become a rock star. It’s because of you que “Alcanzamos por fin la victoria.” That is we “finally reached victory.” That is the first line of our national anthem and today it rings more true than ever before. On this day and from this day forth go out and put a little Saladino in your step. Try your best. If it’s not good enough then try harder and you will see. It will all pay off. You will wrap yourself in your flag and know that where you came from brought you to where you are. You’ll get on your knees and thank the one who made it happen. I know I’m going to step my game up because the truth is people rarely remember silver and bronze but it’s hard to forget gold. Go for the gold.
Dre
Happy Fourth of July! July 4, 2008
So it’s a holiday and you guys are bbqing or chillin or whatever and I am working. I have plans with a friend when I get off. I guess I’ll see how that goes. Since I have to work on a lot of holidays I’ve made a conscious decision to have fun no matter what. The main thing is always festive headgear. I’m wearing a really tall hat that is very cat in the hat meets yankee doodle and star shaped beads around my neck that are red, white, and blue. The customers really dig it. I’ve gotten a lot of compliments. I’m not sure why. Is it really the hat or is it that I’m secure enough to wear a silly ass hat to work and act like it’s normal. When the regional president came to walk through the store in march I was wearing a headband with shamrocks on them. They said “Let your…Sham Rock!” He stopped and told me he liked them. Thankfully I work at a place that allows you freedom to express your creativity and be yourself, much like the US. So on this day that we celebrate freedom have fun and be free. When this day is over know that you are free to do as you please within reason. That’s what being American is all about. Well guys, my break is almost over so I’m going to put my silly hat on and go back to work. Have fun and be safe today!
~andiepandie31
Dear Daddy, June 11, 2008
This is a letter I’m sending to my Dad for Father’s day. It may seem that there are a lot of grammatical errors but I wrote it the way I would speak to him, as they call it back home; flat. A broken English dialect with the Queen’s English, mixed with Spanish, all spoken in an island accent. I hope you enjoy.
Dear Daddy,
Happy Father’s Day! Hope you passing well. Tranquilo, as you say. I just here chillin. I got the stuff you sent for me with Jessica. Thanks! I love it all. I not doin too much today. I off from work already and I going just relax for the rest of the day. I making croquette for dinner today. Just like you showed me so long ago. You taught me so many things. I remember them all. Remember when you showed me how to make Coo Coo? Would you believe when I was in Culinary school at one of our fancy Grand Buffets guess what them had to eat? Coo Coo! On the menu they called it Fungi. I thought to myself , ” No way! These people all excited about this, that’s old news, my father showed me how to make this when I was ten.” I never told you this but I wrote a essay about the oven you did buy me that won me a scholarship for school. They essay was about how I loved to bake and how you bought me a convection oven to I wouldn’t have to mess with the gas one. The people was like? You mean an Easy Bake oven. “No,” I said, “A real oven” I guess they thought it was strange to buy a nine year old an appliance. You have done a lot of things for me that have seemed strange to others at the time but you were trying to shape me as a person. Remember when we went to eat at Playa Corona? I wanted to order a lobster and Ma said no. She said it was too much food for me and I might not like it. You her told if I wanted to try it, then I should. How will she know if she like it if she don’t try it? As you sat there eating your plate of fish you asked me if I liked it? “Yes Daddy, I love it” I ate it all. Man I can almost taste it now. You know I have always carried that with me. Whenever there is something I think I might like I try it because like you said how will I know if I like it. You know Daddy it’s no wonder I’m a chef. You love food and hard work. That’s what I do all day every day. Jessica told me about the day you spoke with me on the phone and when you got off you said “Andrea does work hard ah?” That made me feel so good. You told me you were proud of me at graduation. That made me feel so good Daddy. I just was want to impress you because you impress me. You are a good father Daddy. You are a great father Daddy. I love you so much. Happy Father’s day. Alright then. Bien Bien.
Love,
Lupi
Take me out to the Ballgame June 9, 2008
Ok, so I was cleaning out my inbox and realized I never posted this piece sent out via email on 7/27/07. Anyway here it is.
Ok so I got a new job…well two but I’m not ready to discus the other one
yet. I work part time at a fine dining establishment on the garde manger
station or you could just call me the pantry chef. I make salads, prep
desserts and plate them when the order comes in and if I do say so myself it
looks like it came straight out of the Top Chef kitchen.
The restaurant is a little like Hell’s Kitchen minus the incredibly insane
executive chef. There is a lot of :
“Yes Chef.” “Two Minutes Chef”
Sometimes… he yells. My chef is firm but not abusive. He also cuts me a
lot of slack. I like to tell myself that it is because I’m new or because
I’m only there two nights a week but deep down, I know it is because I’m
female. And all I can say is
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!
I’ve heard the way he talks to the guys. It scares me. HE scares me but I
know he means well. He just wants me to be a better cook. He sympathizes
with the fact that I went corporate and as a result walked away from my
passion, my life. During my interview he asked me what the best dessert I
ever made was and at a loss I blurted out-
Tres Leches.
-Tres Leches, that’s simple and really good if done well. I’d put it on my
menu. (insert my smile here)
We also bonded at the fact that I was from Panama and he had been offered a
job in Bocas del Toro, Panama. I felt like I was hitting it out of the
park.
On a side note, I ran into an old customer of mine from Trio. He asked me
when I would start cooking at this new place.
Well… they have me doing this (this, meaning stocking shelves) and I don’t
have time.
-What?!?! That’s like making Barry Bonds the batboy! Well maybe one day they
will see what they got in you.
I smiled. Mostly because I didn’t know who the hell Barry Bonds was and I
was too ashamed to ask. Later a friend told me and I smiled some more.
Aww, he thinks I’m Barry Bonds! I realized I hadn’t completely sold out if I
still had people savoring my Cuban style rice pudding or my suspiro cookies.
Anyhow, I digress. I spent a lot of time trying to be one of the boys but
realized the heat that comes with being male is more than I can handle. He
dosen’t let them half-step. EVER. When Miranda isn’t there I am the only
female cook and Chef doesn’t allow the men to curse or be sexually explicit
around me. I wasn’t used to that. I thought I had to put up with it to be
respected when in reality it was slowly starting to turn me into a potty
mouth kitchen @#$%. Trust me, I’ve met the type; it’s just not cute.
Walking into this restaurant I was expected to know certain things and found
myself being quizzed on a regular basis.
Andrea, what are the measurements for fine dice?
Ok then I need you to fine dice these jalapenos.
Make a 1/5 recipe of anglaise. (Anglaise by the way had been my nemesis at
Trio. I couldn’t get it right. I always scrambled the eggs. I got it right
on the first try that day and I was soooooo proud of myself! Again big
smile)
What are the four appropriate ways to thaw frozen food?
Can you chiffonade this romaine?
Argh!
I knew it. I knew it all. I just didn’t think I would have to prove myself
on an hour-by-hour basis. I also didn’t realize that new job = new mistakes
to make.
A party of 30 came in and they all ordered the same salad. I got out a big
bowl and started making it. After plating them I put them in the window.
30 House salads up!
-Thank you House. (They thank you when you’re finished with the name of the
dish)
He steals a piece of lettuce off one and eats it.
-Wait did you taste this?
Yes chef
-Taste it again
As I’m chewing I start to kick myself
-What do you taste?
Pepper, chef
-Throw this out and redo them, FAST!
Embarrassed and flustered I struggled to redo them.
Lesson learned. Be careful with the pepper.
One day I was fine dicing the jalapenos, which by the way is 1/8 by 1/8 of
an inch. I was happy as a clam that I was getting to work on my knife skills
when my hands started to tingle. By the time I was done my hands felt like
they were on fire. It hurt so bad I couldn’t think straight. I asked my
sous chef and he was like
Aw man, I should have told you to wear gloves.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda, I thought.
He told me to go ask Chef what I should do to make it stop. Chef said that
there wasn’t anything I could do and it should go away in half hour. EIGHT
HOURS LATER my hands were still burning. From time to time I would run it
under cold water to get some relief but it was only temporary. As soon as
my hands were dry the fire would start again.
Lesson learned. Wear gloves when chopping peppers. You can’t punch someone
when your hands hurt.
Later that night I was cleaning the sink out and decided to flush it out
with the hot water on full blast. When I was done I cleaned the shelf above
the sink and my arm touched the pipe. It was scalding hot!
Ow!
I jerked up and slammed my hand against the metal shelf.
@#$#$#@#@$%$#@%#$@%#$@%#$@%$#%@#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I sighed. The last time I was there I was too close to the oven and burned
a patch of skin off my arm.
Barry Bonds was making rookie mistakes.
The next day I looked at my arm and I had a bar shaped burn on one side and
a big bruise on the other. Oddly enough, I smiled. I had war wounds to
show off again. My hands and arms used to be full of scars where I had
burned and cut myself all in the name of the game. They have healed and
most have them have faded because during the day I work in a safe, plush
environment. Also you can’t burn yourself with a pricing gun.
My moral for today:
Whether you are a rookie or Barry Bonds – find a reason to smile.
Not taking herself too seriously,
Andiepandie31
Answers to Lou’s question June 8, 2008
My brother in law, Lou, asked me what I do on an average Friday night. In true Lou fashion it was an excellent question. I don’t do much when I’m not at work. So my dear Lou to answer your question I:
1. Clean. There is however so much cleaning I can do. I live in a one bedroom condo.
2. Play with one of the cats as the other one doesn’t care for me much. I got Chica to keep Kitty Jones company. Too bad for me, Chica doesn’t like me. Too bad for Chica, Kitty Jones hates her. They fight constantly. What was supposed to be a story book relationship of two cats frolicking through the house is actually an hourly brawl. I think Kitty Jones resents me for bringing home another animal. I just can’t win.
3. Listen to music. Right now I’m listening to the Beach boys. Earlier… Christmas music. God only knows and Carol of the Bells, thank God for the Ipod Shuffle.
4. Watch way too much TV. There are my first tier favorite shows like King of the Hill. Then there are my second tier favorite shows like the trashy goodness that is reality dating shows. You know the ones, Rock of Love, The Bachelor, Flavor of Love, and my new favorite Farmer wants a Wife. Then there is “make-you-feel-better” TV like Maury which I watch when I think my life sucks. Then I end up with hurt feelings when a girl who brings on 5 guys for a paternity test has an understanding and supportive fiancee. I shake my head in disgust. SHE’S ENGAGED!?!?!?! Damn… my life really does suck.
5. Stare at my phone wondering why no one loves me and willing it to ring. If it does it’s usually Shaunica. I love her so. The only downside of her calling me is that after twenty or so minutes of lovely conversation she tells me a horrible “Marine story” that leave me with a dropped jaw. I have limited her to one story per call. I can’t handle more than that.
6. Talk to my sisters. With your wife we exchange witty banter, call each other idiots, press the keypad on the phone to annoy each other, she lectures me on whatever problem I’m having, she berates me for not interjecting at the appropriate times with “mmm. , really? , you don’t say. , shut yo mouth!”, we talk about Hell’s Kitchen then tell each other we are spent and hang up. With Liza I sit there and listen to her fabulous stories, she encourages me, then she usually has to go to do something awesome. After I hang up I usually throw up. I have a condition called I-hate-my-life-itis that causes me to vomit when I come in contact with someone who seems to have a perfect life. In case you are not hip on my sense of humor the last two statements were meant to be a joke. GOD! I’M SO MISUNDERSTOOD!
7. Cook. Usually in the buff but since burning my chest while cooking bacon have since used a bib apron. If I’m not cooking I’m reading a cookbook to get my next meal idea. I’ve been known to mutter the phrase “giggity goo” while reading.
8. Make crafts. I made a journal last week. Before that picture frames. I am expecting my friend Shawna and her daughter Shelby soon so we can turn an old cocoa powder tin into a waste basket. I have one in my bedroom that she thought was cute so I’m gonna help her make one for her room.
9. Make plans I don’t follow through with maybe I’ll go to the pool today, maybe I’ll work out today, maybe I’ll blog today, Maybe I’ll finish one of the five books I’ve started, Maybe I’ll… you get the picture.
10. Wait for the weekly phone call from my parents. With my Dad it’s a short and sweet two min call. He gets out what he wants to say, he asks me if I’m ok, then gets off the phone. You never know how long the call with my mom will last. She usually has a lot to say which is good because I am usually in the mood to listen a lot.
So anyway that’s what I do on the norm. I used to go to midnight sushi but then the manager was rude to me and tried to force me to eat bad squid so I haven’t been back. I planned on posting a picture of my cats fighting but I can’t figure out how to do it. Shoot!
Welcome to My Good Life May 20, 2008
So my sister Jessica got married in October. Yea! I was a bridesmaid which was nice. If it had only been that simple then I would have no story to write but being “the chef” in the family means no matter what I’m expected to put on my chef hat and dazzle everyone. That was the longest and most interesting five days of my life.
Tim and I arrived at five in the morning after a 11 hour drive. We had worked up to the last min so we were very tired. After a quick introduction to my my family we hit the sack. After breakfast we began the task of baking and decorating cookies. We had four pound blocks of sugar cookie dough that we mixed and froze back in Alabama and packed in a cooler in dry ice during transport. Tim and I didn’t do much strategics that day. We were just cleaning, rolling out dough, pressing out cookies, baking, cooling, and stacking cookies. About three hundred of them. My sister said she had not realized what a huge undertaking it was until she came home and I had cooling cookies on every surface in the kitchen including a coffee table I brought in and wrapped in plastic wrap for extra space. There were cookies everywhere.
You know why it bugs me when people tell me they bake at home like I’m supposed to feel like we have something in common? Because we have very little in common.When you are at home and you bake cookies how many do you bake? 20? 40 at the most? Pastry chefs deal in volume. While I can appreciate the home cook for their wisdom in flavors and consistency, there is a very big difference in baking a dozen cookies for your family and three hundred cookies for and order. Jessica’s order was standard for me. I work at a grocery store though. There are chef out there that fill much larger orders. Anyway, I digress.
Later that night my whole family came over and got to enjoy our thirty or so fallen soldiers. The cookies had a narrow top so they kept breaking off. While not suitable for icing my family did not seem to mind.
Day two
Now that the cookies were baked We began the painstaking task of decorating them. First a border had to be piped, then they were flooded. Confused? Let me explain. Tim and I made Royal Icing out of powdered sugar and egg whites. This icing is ideal for decorating cookies because it sets hard. A thicker coat is applied around the edges as a barrier, a sugary dam if you will. We then added water to it to thin it out so we could “flood” the cookie. Luckily we had special helpers, my nieces Jannellis and Jasmeen used wooden skewers to spread the icing after we piped a blob each cookie. I demonstrated on one and then they were off and running.
“Just pretend it’s a coloring bookand stay inside the lines.”
I was proud, they were good little chefs. They washes their hands often and stayed inside the lines. That was our only task of the day since the thin icing takes 12 to 24 hours to dry.
Day Three
The end was in sight. All we had to do now was add detail work and package them and we were done! The detail work is always my favorite part of making sugar cookies. As my brother in law looked on he said “Man you must need a lot of patience to do this.” “Not really. It’s fun to me.” I said. Tim piped brown borders as I did scroll work in a lighter shade of brown. As I did the last one I asked Tim to take a picture. Thank God I was done.
The Cakes
That’s a story for another time.
Good Times
At the reception I ate, drank, danced and was merry. It was nice to have all my work behind me so I could focus on spending time with my family. Towards the end of the night my niece Jasmeen was sitting on my lap when my sister in law Jeanina came over and asked her why she wasn’t dancing to her favorite song. Good Life by Kanye West. We had been dancing all night and decided to take a breather.
“Is this really your favorite song? We should dance then.”
We got up and started dancing and when the chorus played she threw her hands in the air as the song said and I followed her lead. I started thinking about what it meant to live the good life. To me it’s when you love your job so much you work for free. When you have friends so nice they travel with you to also work for free.
Tim turned to me at one point during the trip. “Everyone in your family loves each other so much. My family isn’t like that”
“Hmm. Really? That’s a shame.”
It’s weird I think everyone is chasing what they think the good life is instead of consciously making their own life a good life or seeing what they have in front of them. Every time I start to forget I look at the picture we took that day we were working and it’s all good again. I’m not sure I have a moral for this story. I just wanted to tell you about how my nieces Miss Jasmeen and Miss Janellis reminded me of how good I have it.
My Nemisis March 11, 2008
There’s this guy named Daniel, not really but I can’t tell you his real name, and he’s a pastry chef. In fact he is the pastry chef that replaced Brian and me as the people “in charge” back at Trio. Now let me make this clear, I had no problems with this guy at first. To me he was just some guy that always wanted free cake boards from us. I was always very nice as was he. That was when I was the chef and I wore the hat.
Confused?… Sidebar
I used to work with this Swiss Chef named Oscar, not really but again can’t use his name. Anyway he was kind of a grouchy guy that didn’t like to be told what to do. He takes himself very seriously and had the store order him special chef hats that were unlike our black beanies. He wore a tall circular chef hat that you would normally see at a banquet or at a high end restaurant with an open kitchen. So one day someone did something to step on his toes and he completely snapped. “I AM THE CHEF! I WEAR THE HAT!” This statement is funny because it embodies the arrogant nature that most chefs have. Everyone, even managers started jokingly saying it when they were trying to say they were in charge. Sometimes they would say it for no reason at all just to mock the sheer ridiculousness of demanding respect from someone because you wear a nicer hat. I’m actually giggling right now just thinking about it.
When I first went off to work for my present employer I was terribly unhappy and desperately wanted to go back to Trio. Then one day my friend Angela, the assistant produce manager, told me she saw Daniel while at Trio the previous week and she had mentioned the fact that I would probably love to come back and he told her to send me on down. Although he was unaware of how much I made he also told her he would offer me a rate of pay that would have been a 50% increase of what I was making at the time. On cloud nine I rushed over to Trio and he told me a very different tale. First he asked my rate of pay and told me there was no way he could offer more than that. He went on to suggest that I was a slacker and couldn’t keep my case full. He commented that as a customer he always thought the case was “so empty.” Finally he gave me the names of a couple places I could go to find a new job. I stood there in disbelief while he insulted me. I never did anything to this guy. I didn’t even really know him. Why was he doing this? It was deceptive to pretend he had a job for me when all he really wanted was to give me a piece of his mind. I’m not sure why he felt so passionately about giving me his opinion of me. It’s not like he was an older more experienced chef. He was three years younger than me! I pictured myself punching him in the throat and dancing around him like Muhammad Ali but instead I left quietly and without a fuss or fight. You don’t have to act on all thoughts and there is more than one way to knock out an opponent. I was livid though. I felt like he had puched me in the face and I was down but not out. One of his employees later told me she thought he was intimidated by my reputation among Trio’s staff but if that is true it is so stupid! I wasn’t interested in showing anybody up, you guys know me- I just want to cook.
Nine months later my assistant manager came up to me and asked me if I knew a Daniel from Trio.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“Well he applied to work in the Deli. What do you think of him?”
(Insert Hallelujah Chorus here)
I smiled. “Well personally I don’t care for him but professionally speaking I think his arrogant ways and attitude would not be a good fit here.” My opinion was one of three that cost him that job. Daniel is my nemesis because he chose to judge me and express his opinion of me at an inappropriate time- a job interview. Ironically, I got the chance to express my opinion of him at an appropriate time – when I was asked. The next time I saw Daniel I smiled and although I wanted to say “EAT SHIT & DIE!” I said “Good to see you” (I really am too nice; that just kind of popped out! 
) He was as expected; unpleasant and condescending. I realized if continue to kill him with kindness I might eventually destroy my nemesis. Well, maybe not destroy… but you get the picture.
Be very careful of how you treat people when you wear the hat. You don’t know how long you will wear it and you never know who will hold the next hat you want to wear. Just a tip from me to you.
Dancing around like Muhammad Ali after a TKO,
La chef
