Thievery and such… February 28, 2008

So let’s talk about stealing. Theft. Shrinkage. Five finger discounts.  It’s a problem in any business.  I was watching American Gangster and I thought his solution to the problem was really interesting. Everybody in his drug lab was stark naked. No pockets- no shrinkage.  In my industry that solution would not work. It would also be very unsanitary. I tell you one thing though, the hairnet business would boom. LoL Anyway working with food there is a need to taste to make sure it’s ok but where does a taste turn into stealing? My company defines a sample as two ounces. Anything more than that and you’re stealing which is a fire-able offense. No warning. Just termination.  I will illustrate examples of different ends of the spectrum when it comes to this problem.

Thirteen Cents…

A lower level member of the management team was prepping for breakfast.  He took several sheet pans of apple-wood smoked bacon out of the oven and decided to treat himself to a few pieces. I can’t really blame him. Have you had that kind of bacon? Stop reading and go buy some now.  It is so worth the trip. No big deal right? Wrong. Our store manager came by and asked him what he was doing. His response was ” Just prepping for breakfast and eating a couple strips of bacon.” Next thing he knew he was upstairs getting fired. My boss who sat in as a witness came directly downstairs to warn us of what had just happened and not to let it happen to us.

My friends Tom had a severe reaction to the news “Jesus Christ! What ever happened to a warning?” My bosse’s response was one of those that you didn’t want to hear.  “They don’t have to warn us.  We signed a document stating we read the handbook.  That was in the handbook.” 

Numb shock doesn’t begin to describe how that made all of us feel. Every other place I’ve worked we were chowing down all day long.  We never thought about it but we were stealing.  It’s something about knowing someone got fired for thirteen cents worth of bacon that changes you.

Thousands of dollars…

 One weekend I was off which is huge because I never get two days in a row. When I came back half our meat department was gone.  Reason: They had been fixing themselves t-bone steaks and tenderloins for lunch every day for three months and never paid a dime.  When four people eat expensive cuts of meat everyday for three months that comes out to be a lot of money.  The department had been in the red for a combination of reasons but theft was a big part of it.

So who likes thieves? I don’t.  Although, my mom taught me that you can trust a thief more than a liar since you can count on a thief to steal and you can’t distinguish when a liar is lying. Well I think all of us are thieves in our own way. Eating grapes at the supermarket, stealing change from the toll machines, taking an extra newspaper when you only paid for one, or taking towels or washcloths at hotels. We can’t say

“Oh that’s different.”

because you are affecting someone in some way.  Although it seems like my boss was being harsh for firing that guy he was trying to send a message. Everybody was scared to death to even taste stuff.  No one thought their job was worth the bite.  

Some of you may have noticed I changed the name of my blog.  I was inspired to write this because I stole the title from an ex coworker.  At first I was indignant that it was different and I wasn’t really stealing but when you got rid of all the words only one was left. THIEF.  I don’t want to be that. I want for people to have at least a moderate amount of trust in me like they do at the Self checkout.  No one watches you like a hawk.  They trust that you won’t steal. and although they do check your receipt I’m sure not so trust worthy people walk out with stolen items. That’s not me though. Thirteen cents of bacon, Thousands of dollars worth of meat, Michael Greene’s title.  I need to remove myself from that list. So here I go: Michael, I’m sorry.  Shelf Life is yours. I’ll stick to being original.

 Feeling a little better,

andiepandie31 

Got Beef? February 25, 2008

I have a lot of beef. No, not meat. Beef as in problems with other people. Mainly customers but from time to time my coworkers will make my eye twitch with rage.  I’m kind of an angry person. I’m also a smart ass. A passive-aggressive angry person but angry nonetheless.  Like Scrappy Doo, always ready for a fight. I can’t help it though. You’d understand if you knew my mother or my sisters. Sure, your sitting there thinking “They are perfectly lovely people Andrea, why would you say that?” Have you ever tried to talk to Liza before her morning coffee? Have you ever said anything Jessica without getting a smart answer? Anyway I’m chasing rabbits. I do that a lot. It’s when you start a story and then go in a different direction, then change directions yet again and end up with three separate endings. Anyway…. I’m doing it again. I have beef with a lot of customers. So I’ve created a list of things you should probably stick to when out and being helped by anyone.  I’m sure they feel the same way.

1. Get off your cell phone. Seriously. PUT IT DOWN. Whoever you are talking to can call you back. You are conducting business right now. I hate getting the finger. You know the finger, you’ve probably given it. When you put your index finger up to say hold on. You know what I do when I get the finger? Walk away and never come  back. Someone else can help you. I have other stuff to do.
2. Don’t argue with me. I work here. You shop here. What makes you think you know more than me about what we carry? What makes you think I’m lying when I say I can’t do that? Don’t argue, you’ll lose.
3. Don’t ask me if I’m new here. This usually comes after I say I can’t do something and they ask if I’m new followed with ”because someone else did it for me.” I say, “Really what is their name because they broke the rules and I need to inform my manager.” I don’t really tell on the person but I love seeing someone sweat at the thought that they might be getting someone in trouble. It makes me smile with my heart.
4. Don’t ask me how much something cost when the price is in front of your face. Enough said.
5. GET OFF YOUR CELL PHONE. Did I mention this already? Oh, well cause it’s an issue for me. HUGE ISSUE.
6. Don’t be a sample whore/crumb bum.We talk about you. Like dogs. No…really, like a dog. One lady demanded more samples one day and had a piece of cake on her face. I didn’t even tell her she had something on her face. She wasn’t being nice, just greedy so I let that cake crumb ride. Don’t get mad at me though, My boss saw it first and chose to ignore it because she was being so rude to her. What can I say, You catch more flies with sugar that vinegar.
7. If you ask me a question, don’t interrupt me while I’m answering. It’s rude.
8. Don’t say you are just looking if you are planning on buying something or asking me 50 million questions.Sometimes I say “Hi! How are you?” and the customer will put their hand up and say, “I’m just looking”I think to myself….ooohkaaay. TWO SECONDS LATER they say “Ma’am can you help me?” and I want to say “Fine thank you and yourself?” Do you see the disconnect here?
9. Preorder, preorder, preorder.I can’t stress this enough. Do you know how many people get mad because their husband or son’s favorite cake isn’t in the case and I think to myself ”Did you just remember that you gave birth to your son 5 years ago today.” Don’t get me started on holidays. You and 50 other people want a Boston cream cake for Thanksgiving and we only have 25. You do the math.
10. Hang up the phone.I’m sorry. Actually, no I’m not. 3 out of 10 customers are on their phone so I’m going to mention it 3 out of 10 times.

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I feel so much better now that I got that all off my chest. Thanks for listening and remember the rules.

Chef Andiepandie31

The Rise and Fall of Lonna Krall February 22, 2008

*Names have been changed to protect the permanently scarred*

          Lonna Krall was a 5’ 2”, big chested, Virginia Slim smoking, bleach blonde front end Deli Manager at Trio.  We first met her as a sales rep for a company that carries cured meats and cheeses.  She knew the owners from high school and they offered her a job at their new store.  It was apparent to us from the very beginning that she had no idea what she was doing.  For starters her attire was not appropriate.  Her low cut tanks, carpis and heels were, while cute, not kitchen friendly.  And don’t get me started on her hair.  She wore it down which again was cute but when dealing with food the Health Dept. requires that your hair be restrained.  Ponytail, hat, hairnet – they don’t care but it can’t be all out.  Although some of us liked Lonna very much we all had a certain degree of annoyance for her blatant disregard for kitchen rules and etiquette.

            Anyway one day she suffered a tragedy through a series of events that made us all smirk.  1^stone of the amigos made chicken stock in the steam kettle, empties it into a large cambro, picture over-sized Tupperware, and set it on the floor in the cooler to cool, which by the way is an improper cooling technique but I’m not going there.  Lonna enters the cooler looking for something and finds it on the top of the metro rack and since she can’t reach it, she decides to climb it to get what she needs.  That is what I thought step stools are for but again, don’t want to go there. So here is this little woman in espadrilles and carpis climbing a rack and on her way down steps directly into the cambro of near boiling stock and is immersed to the knee.  Now here is where a bad situation gets worse.  Once out of the cooler Lonna sat in a chair in agonizing pain surrounded by employees trying to comfort her.  A chef that worked in seafood suggested she put some mayonnaise on it to soothe the pain. Ok, I’m no doctor but to me mayo is good on sandwiches not on burns.  The doctor later said what started out as first degree burns turned into second degree burns thanks to… you guessed it the mayo. 

            “Who told you to do that?!?!” the doctor demanded

            Lonna came back to work a week later in long pants and close toed shoes with a hat on her head.  She wore bandages on her ankle and toes where her burns were the worst.  Workman’s Comp denied her claim because she was, wait for it, not in proper work attire. Seriously guys this story cracks me up.  It’s one of those full circle things.  It reminds me of a poster I saw. 

            “Some people’s sole purpose in life is to serve an example to others of what not to do.”

Hold the mayo,

andiepandie31

Single Chef and the City February 14, 2008

12/8/07 

A couple of months ago someone asked my Dad how his girls were doing.  Here is how that conversation went:

How’s Liza?

-She’s fine, She just got engaged.

How’s Jessica

-She’s fine, She is about to get married in a couple weeks.

How’s Andrea

-She’s fine, She has two jobs.

 

My mom was not happy. In fact she was mortified.  I, myself,  thought it was really funny. My life is all about my work right now. I mean, I do date but the thing is I am very picky.  A guy once tried to pick me up at Wal-Mart with the line:

“Hey shawty! What yo entrée is?”

I was in my chef’s jacket and needless to say he didn’t get my number.   I want to be in a relationship. I really do but I’m so focused on work right now because it teaches me lessons for life. Things I know that make me a better person and one day will make me a great wife. You can’t rush some things because you will ruin them. I want to get married and dot, dot, dot but I’m in no hurry.  Cooking has taught me something not even my Mom could teach me – patience. 

The first time I made Hollandaise sauce I was told to put to egg mixture over a double boiler, keep it on low and stir continuously until thick. After about five minutes of whisking my arm was dog tired to I decided that I was smarter than the recipe and I would speed things up a bit. I cranked the heat up and started whisking at warp speed only to end up, not with hollandaise sauce but, with scrambled eggs.

$@#%!

-”What happened” said Chef Jerome

I messed up

-Start over

Ok

Most of my relationships have turned to scrambled eggs and hit the trash just like my sauce.  It’s no big deal but those were not right.  I’m at a point where I have learned the lesson and now I’m standing there at the double boiler just stirring away. Slowly, with the fire in low, just waiting until its ready.  I hope my Mom realizes there are worse things my Dad could have said and the fact is he is proud that I’m such a hard worker.  So while Jessica enjoys her Eggs Benedict and Liza’s sits in the window waiting for the server to pick it up- my plate is just not ready. Slowly, steady, I stir. I want it to be just right.

So my tip for you (like you haven’t already guessed) is

Take it easy. Don’t be in a hurry.  Anyone can make scrambled eggs, only some can make Hollandaise.

Keep stirring,

andiepandie31

 

Laundry Baskets February 14, 2008

8/14/07 

When I was eight years old the US invaded Panama to capture our president and dictator Manuel Noriega. On Dec 21, 1989 during Christmas break my world was turned, not upside down, but slightly sideways as I awoke to find my parent at home, instead of at work, glued to the television.  In the weeks that came to follow we became prisoners of our town or Pedro  Miguel as we couldn’t leave or we would be shot. Although my father always kept the house full of food and surely he had prepared for this, My
eight year old mind told be we had nothing to eat because we were out of comfort food. Cereal, bread, milk, ect. We had two refrigerators and a deep frezzer full of meat, rice and other staples but I missed my luxuries which up until then I had considered a right and a nessecity. You know how kids are. If you don’t have what they like then you hear “There is nothing to eat” and they really believe that.  I remember going to the mini mart in Paraiso, a town five minutes away, with my mom to get some things. The place was completely empty. There was no food. One day we heard news that American soldiers would bring food. Some of the other families in the neighborhood had not prepared as well as mine and they were down to the wire. The mothers grabbed their laundry baskets and headed to the soccer field in the middle of the neighborhood and we stood, and waited for them to come.

Stood
Waited
Then waited some more

I remember thinking about how I thought they would arrive and found myself staring at the sky thinking they would drop it from overhead.  Interestingly enough, it was like a big party or something. They stood
 around, talked, laughed and held their laundry baskets hoping that when they went home it would be filled.

Turns out, they didn’t come that day.

I’m not sure when or where it happened but they did bring food. They gave us their food. MREs or Meals ready to eat. I can’t remember how long we ate those things but if I had to guess I would say at least two weeks.   Maybe more. Some say they taste nasty but I love MREs. They had an entree with a side and even a little pouch of dessert. For me it was like an  adult craker jack box because there was always something really cool in there, like a tiny bottle of Tabasco, sometimes gum. Finally, I got my snacks back, so to me we had food again. Some people, especially chefs, tend to put too much emphasis on food and how it taste – the quality and flavor. If its edible then it’s food. Gourmet has nothing to do with it.

In college my suitemate did a unit for her education block and wrote to receive MRE’s for a class demo. They sent her so many that she gave me a whole box. I sat on bed and opened one. As I started eating I felt transported back to my life as an eight-year-old kid growing up in Panama. The twenty year old me felt gratitude for the first time for what they did. Sharing their food. I realized the impact of what they did.

You would have think that would have done it for me but I would get another lesson in hunger.
When I was sixteen my church youth group planed a “Feed the Poor.” We came the night before and made sandwiches and packed the lunches with juice boxes and fruit. I remember there being an extra tangerine and I tore into it. My friend Anasha said why don’t you just put in a bag. I shrugged.

“It’s no big deal”

We laughed. And it was no big deal, until the next morning. We set out at six to deliver the 100 bags we had packed. Our first stop was Calidonia. A place I had been before while on shopping trips with my mom or friends but I saw a new side to that place that morning. Our youth group leader called out Desayuno! Meaning breakfast and people started coming out of nowhere. I was so overwhelmed I had to catch my breath. I just started handing out bags along with my friends but soon we had to leave.

“Andrea let’s go.” they called out.

A woman grabbed my arm and begged me to stay.

“Just one more bag.Please for my father. He can’t walk.”
I’m sorry
“Please young lady, please”
I’m sorry”

I was the last to get in the car. “We had to leave. There are other places we have to go” Sheryl our group leader explained.

“One more bag turns into twenty, we had to go.”

We left and headed for Avenida Balboa, a street with a view of the ocean where my friend Ronny saw a woman crawl out of the sewer. He gave her bag and her face lit up. He later said he would never forget that image. While driving by Curundu, Darcye handed a bag out the window to a man walking and got a shock.

“No way! Oh my god, no way”
What Darcye what?
“That used to be my baseball coach when I was little.”
Ah man.

That was when it became too much for me. Who were these people we were helping. How did it get this way for them? Could that be me? Yep. It could. I slumped back in the chair and became withdrawn. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but stare ahead. I didn’t and couldn’t say a word. Sheryl noticed my changed.

Andrea…..Andrea…
“Andrea’s upset” said Shaunica

Looking back I remember a grin on her face. She realized the lesson for the day was being learned and she knew would never be forgotten. When we were finished we went to McDonalds although I don’t know how we ate. I for one was not hungry and not sure how I would ever eat the same way again.

So no moral this week, just one word of advice. The next time someone on the street asks you for money for something to eat
Think.
Think of what I’ve said.
Think of the empty laundry baskets and the woman from the sewer.
Think of the last time you were really hungry… then think about what
it would be like to compound that feeling with not knowing where the nextmeal will come from.
For me – just think.

Still thinking,
andiepandie31

Rainy day February 11, 2008

Lunch at a grocery store is busy. No, really. I didn’t think it woul be so bad but on my first week at J. Jane’s I realized how many people got lunch there. Same at Trio. So anyway, one day in the middle of rush while we were slinging out sandwiches and chocolate cake the ceiling started leaking right over the salad bar. We all were startled by it but kept working while someone got a bucket. Soon the ceiling had water pouring out of it in several places.

My boss looked up. “What the hell is going on?”

I just stared up in awe and the manager went to call someone. Not even he was sure where it was comming from and how to make it stop.

Trio was built in the middle of a rich community. On both sides of city hall there were small shops, restaurants, a spa, and of course the local neighborhood grocer- Trio Market. Above the shops were four
stories of condos that started at a quarter million dollar. Yeah, I know.  Pricey.

Seems our neighbor directly above us was a rich kid whose parents had bought him a “fly pad”. We all later found out the morning of said incident he turned on the water to have himself a bath then decided to get high and ended up passing out.

That was at seven a.m.

By eleven thirty we were flooded and frankly, freaking out. All the food had to be thrown away because the water was a contaminant. Half of the deli and produce cleaned up and went home because until the water stopped and everything could be thoroughly cleaned we were not fit to serve food. A
maintanance crew was brought in and holes were drilled in the ceiling to help drain the water and relieve the pressure it was putting on the roof.

I’m not sure if he was required to pay for the damages incurred on the roof but if I had to bet, knowing the owners, he wrote a big fat check. Or at least his insurance did.

The moral of the story:

Don’t do drugs. You might ruin a good salad waiting to happen.

Stay sober,
andiepandie31

The Cardinal Rule pt 2 February 10, 2008

12/28/06

Already I’m getting mixed reviews about this one. My friends think it funny
but my family is appalled. I write these to tell you the truth about my
life working in a kitchen. You have laughed with and at me and so if you
are shocked by some of the behavior I see, I guess that is fine too. It is about getting a
reaction.
For the record, should they have done it, no. Do we do things like that all the
time- no. I am sorry they did it because I believe in the golden rule and it
just wasn’t right but if someone that is as easy going as my coworker can get so
angry and tamper with someone’s food think about the hotheads or those who
have no conscience. I want you guys to share in my life and learn from my
experiences and that includes times that I or anyone else haven’t been on their best behavior.
Bottom line is don’t upset people that hold the power- in any business. I
was inspired to write about my naughtiness because I had a layover in Denver
on my way here to California. Denver had suffered a severe blizzard and the
airport had only been open again for a day or two when I arrived so there
were plenty of people stuck at the airport. The flight attendant warned us
to be nice to all airport personnel because if we weren’t they would tell us
our flight was full even if there were seats available.

“Don’t tell them I told you but it’s just a tip from me to you.” he said.

I thought about little dirty tricks in my industry and decided to tell you about a couple of them so it would serve as a lesson. I have other stories about stuff like that. Some are far worse. From selling stale muffins to rude customers to the Chef over salting an “idiot’s” fish just to piss him off.

Just be aware that these things happen,

andiepandie31

The cardinal rule February 10, 2008

12/28/06
If you have ever seen the movie Waiting, you know there is a scene where a
customer is extremely rude to her server and sends her food back. In the
back her food is taken through a series of “alterations” and sent back to
her. A disgusted trainee looks on in disbelief but as a veteran explained
to him nonchalantly:

“I know what we did may seem harsh – but she broke the cardinal rule; don’t
&%$ with people that handle your food.”

I know all of you out there know better but just in case you want to act
crazy next time you go out to eat I’ll tell you a couple of stories to
change your mind.

One of them.
 
My coworker was making brownies one day and was over at the induction burner melting chocolate and butter together. Because of where she was standing she could not see half of the counter and apparently a customer was standing there waiting to get her bread sliced. When she finally saw her someone else
was helping her but she still ran up and started apologizing but the customer was
really rude to her and treated her as if she was not even worth her time.
“Hand this to her” she said to another coworker with an attitude and walked away.
 She was already having a rough day so her attitude really upset her. Without even thinking she took her bread out of the bag, rubbed it all over her butt and ran it through the slicer. She instantly felt the situation had been rectified and handed her the bread with a smile. Unfortunately she left that chocolate on the burner unattended and severely burned it and ended up ruining $300 worth of
brownies. Karma got both of them. 

One of our own.

Our chef used to allow people who worked in food prep to get a free
sandwich, no sides- just a sandwich, when we worked a full shift. One of the
new cashiers from in front found out about it and didn’t like that at all
and decided to put an end to it by complaining to management everyday for
three weeks. She didn’t work in food prep but decided to (pardon the pun)
put salt in our game anyway. She stood around up front all day while we
worked with hot stoves and ovens. I’m not sure why she felt she deserved
the same privileges as us but the next day she got her wish and we were
informed that we had to pay for our food.

Interestingly enough she still came to the back and ordered food from us
everyday. The same people she had ratted out and painted as thieves. When
she did the sous chef took her sandwich and rubbed it all over his “private
area” wrapped it up and served it. Those who were there served it with a
smile and laughed. Those of us who found out later also laughed with
satisfaction. In our minds she deserved it.

The moral of the story should be obvious. But in case you don’t get it,
here goes:

“I know what we did may seem harsh – but she broke the cardinal rule; don’t
&%$ with people that handle your food.”

Be good,
andiepandie31

Published February 9, 2008

8/17/06

Hey everybody!
Ok so I don’t really have a story for you today, I mean I do have tons of
stories but I’m working on 3 projects at once and I’m just trying to graduate. Expect to hear a lot
more from me come mid september. I just wanted to tell all of you that I
submitted one of my stories to the school newspaper The Scoop and they
decided to print it. They even gave me my own column!!! A day in the life
of Andrea! I guess I was meant to leave school with a bang. So thank you to
all of you that wrote back and encouraged me. Thank you for all your
compliments because without you I wouldn’t of tried it. My biggest thanks
goes to Wanda Bell for making sure I got on the newspaper staff and my
classmates for threatening to submit my writing behind my back. It’s funny
I thought I just wanted to cook. Turns out writing aint so bad

Love,
andiepandie31

Viniculture February 9, 2008

8/2/06 

When I sat down with my advisor to pick classes for my final quarter we
discovered I was 2 credits short of being considered a full time student
which is required to get finacial aid so she allowed me to chose a filler
class and I chose Viniculture.
Viniculture is the study of wine and wine production. To quote Dave
Chappelle:

“IT’LL GET YOU DRUNK!”

was the only thing I knew about wine. I wanted to learn practical
information to use in cooking as well as have an educated conversation over
dinner or at a wine tasting. (and who was I kidding, I would get to drink
on the school’s tab. Whoo!!)

So now every Monday I get to sit in class and sip wine. My teacher presents
me with a small plate with several cheeses; Bleu, Guryere, Brie, and/ or
Goat. As well as chocolate and dried cherries. One time we even got bread.
We look at the wine, then smell it, then taste it and take notes on it.
Then we taste it with the items on our plate to determine appropriate food
pairings.

It is a lovely time! Pity you weren’t invited.

The first day we drank I had a hectic day and forgot to eat before class, so
by the time I got done tasting 4 wines I was cheery to say the least.
Lesson learned, I packed a sandwich the next week. It doesn’t matter
though. Whoever I dial when I get out of class usually gets an earful of
tipsy talk. This class helps me deal with the fact that I am spread so thin
this quarter. It’s fun and interesting. I don’t even mind getting tested
because I like to see if I’m actually getting anything out of the class.

I friggin love it!

My tip for you is to go out and study up on something you find interesting;
even if it doesn’t fit in the curriculum of your life. It doesn’t hurt to
learn – it might however get you drunk.

In the wine aisle,
andiepandie31