10am, I place my punch card in the machine
The chatter of the printer signed me in.
Racing down the concrete staircase
I blur by Barrington, wearing his
Pill cap hat and cleaning his glasses
On his side towel.
"Morning!" I say,
"Good morning! Just in time, Lawrence isn't in yet!"
I sigh of relief, I grab a jacket and bolt into the change room
A whole change room to myself. Aren't I lucky?
The perks of being the only female in the kitchen.
The jacket was always too big. I roll the sleeves 6 times.
I push my socked feet into my steal-toed shoes
Pull the laces tight. Wrap my crisp white apron around my hips.
The strings go around twice.
Lawrence refused to order me a jacket that fits,
"Why? Just wear the small one! I'm not ordering a jacket JUST for you..."
Hair in a pony tail, cap on. Big Eddie needs his lunch.
I jog myself back up the concrete staircase.
Lawrence enters, "Good morning Sunshine!" he says.
6 feet and 5 inches tall he stood. Spiky grey hair
His red framed glasses and torn jeans made him look
like he once was apart of a garage band...
And refused to let go of the dream
I popped open the walk-in fridge,
The lock was busted so I chalked the door
I saw my breath as I searched for what
would be become Big Eddie's lunch.
A squeaky black trolley acts like my shopping cart.
Big Eddie will arrive at 1:00pm. Make a move.
A quarter wheel of Parmesan. "Made in Italy" on the white box.
Plump violet figs, poke their heads up out of the
Foam crate like new born sparrows with yellow beaks.
Prosciutto - 3 new legs! Must be an Antipasti bar coming up I thought.
Rapini...Oh asparagus??? No Rapini.
"Anything you need help with?" Barrington asks as he grabs a box
"I'm roasting peppers, want me to save you some?" he offers
Jag also joins the frigid meeting room...
And leaves again with a sack of potatoes.
Ass.
I step out. A humid kitchen.
A burst of steam from the combi-oven
I walk through the cloud like a super hero
Pot in one hand...
Wooden spoon in the other...
Chicken stock, rolling boil
A heavy pinch of sea salt rains down on
Young rapini
The sweet char of blistered red capsicum
Barrington slices the Prosciutto. Drag and click
The meat slicer struggles under the pressure
With a chisle, I stab lightly into the Parmesan
Flicking savoury chunks from the centre.
A piece of me with Frank the Bread Guy's
Dinner rolls...
Frank delivered the bread every morning
Olive oil skin, dangerous smile. Arms like
Tree trunks and dusty brown hair...
Eyes dark as night
Frank was my secret love...
However it wasn't much of a secret as I
Fumbled like a school girl when he entered
Focus...
Big Eddie and the boys will arrive in no time
I plopped figs into a cold bath of water
Bobbing like buoys in an ocean
Or maybe more like a bird bath
I butterflied chicken breast
Slices of prosciutto, shredded asiago
Lawrence whipped eggs for me
Barrington motored through fresh parsley
His massive boxer fists dump handle fulls into
Lawrence's eggy cheesy mix
Setting it beside me...ready for Eddie.
Vine ripe Roma tomatoes
Discs of rounds lay on a glass plate
Robust olive oil lapping over the edges
Haphazard shards of torn basil leaves
Balsamic reduction I made yesterday drawn over tomatoes
With ruby red skins...like sticky sweet ink
Screaming hot pan
Chicken breasts sear and sizzle
Marinara, home made by me bubbles
Slowly
A beaten hotel pan my chicken
Lined up military fashion
"Shall I assist you?" Asks Lawrence
I smile, "Yes chef...you're swell!" I say in approval
"Swell indeed!" as he rubs his rounded abdomen
I chuckle. He ladled the Sunday gravy
And pushed it into the oven.
I walked over the the espresso machine
A double shot sputtered out
As I sip I pluck the figs out of their bath
Gently I press them dry
"Like velvet babies, they look lovely today.."
I mutter to myself,
"Eddie and the boys will enjoy them,"
A strand of hair feathers across my eyes
With an upward huff I blow it out the way
A door slams.
Big Eddie here...already?
No, little Eddie. Junior.
"How's my favourite Hawaiian?"
A jolly laugh from both sides. He leans over
A double kiss and a fist bump.
"Fantastic, practising my hula dance for this weekend..."
I reply.
Carmine and the lot waltz in. Round one of the boys.
"Time for me to make magic! Talk to you soon Ed!"
Rolling boil. Stratchetella. Turn down the flame
Don't boil the Stratch!
Rickey, grandson-in-law slices the crusty baguette
Olive in a bowl. Balsamic in a bottle.
"Big Eddie is here, came through the back! What are they having?"
I look up from peeling cool peppers. A jelly texture between
My hands. Crushed roasted garlic waits to be tossed
With smokey capsicum and grilled onions.
"Stratch, Caprese - minus the Mozz. Haha!
Saltemboca, grilled pepps and onions,
His eyes widen.
"Rick! Get the wine! Oohh! Larry Larry Lorenzo!"
James - Jimmy calls out.
Tony and Chris throw their jackets on the counter.
I remove it.
A brotherly hug and a hard slap on the back of
Lawrence's chef coat.
"Fresh figs, parm...Romain lettuce with red wine vinegar and olive oil"
I complete.
8 men. Family style.
Platted main.
It's one of the boy's birthday.
Gelato gets scooped.
Empty bowls, plates, and glasses come back
Barrington hopes that they don't ask for seconds
Means a good lunch for us! As he always whispers in my ear.
Then out of the corner of my eye,
There stood a man.
Tinted glasses, with gold frames
Buttoned up t-shirt. Blue with fine white lines
Forming squares across this round body.
Grey slacks and semi-polished black shoes.
Pale white skin, thinning hair and a white-as-snow
Mustache.
His chubby face glowed. I rarely saw his eyes.
But I knew they were smiling.
His weathered hands reach for my face.
With his finger and thumb he pinches my cheeks
And pulls me close.
A hug and a double kiss..first the right
Then the left.
"This Girl right here! Oh my...that's my girl! You! You! Everyday! So good you cook!"
I blush and try to pull away. Too shy to say anything else other than,
"Thank you, I love that you love my food,"
He kisses my face again and slips his palm into
My palm.
He squeezes it shut and slowly saunters away.
I unfold my hand and there it was. A crumpled $100 bill.
And a note...
"Lovely lunch...Thank you - Eddie"
xo,
A Girl who likes to Cook
The chatter of the printer signed me in.
Racing down the concrete staircase
I blur by Barrington, wearing his
Pill cap hat and cleaning his glasses
On his side towel.
"Morning!" I say,
"Good morning! Just in time, Lawrence isn't in yet!"
I sigh of relief, I grab a jacket and bolt into the change room
A whole change room to myself. Aren't I lucky?
The perks of being the only female in the kitchen.
The jacket was always too big. I roll the sleeves 6 times.
I push my socked feet into my steal-toed shoes
Pull the laces tight. Wrap my crisp white apron around my hips.
The strings go around twice.
Lawrence refused to order me a jacket that fits,
"Why? Just wear the small one! I'm not ordering a jacket JUST for you..."
Hair in a pony tail, cap on. Big Eddie needs his lunch.
I jog myself back up the concrete staircase.
Lawrence enters, "Good morning Sunshine!" he says.
6 feet and 5 inches tall he stood. Spiky grey hair
His red framed glasses and torn jeans made him look
like he once was apart of a garage band...
And refused to let go of the dream
I popped open the walk-in fridge,
The lock was busted so I chalked the door
I saw my breath as I searched for what
would be become Big Eddie's lunch.
A squeaky black trolley acts like my shopping cart.
Big Eddie will arrive at 1:00pm. Make a move.
A quarter wheel of Parmesan. "Made in Italy" on the white box.
Plump violet figs, poke their heads up out of the
Foam crate like new born sparrows with yellow beaks.
Prosciutto - 3 new legs! Must be an Antipasti bar coming up I thought.
Rapini...Oh asparagus??? No Rapini.
"Anything you need help with?" Barrington asks as he grabs a box
"I'm roasting peppers, want me to save you some?" he offers
Jag also joins the frigid meeting room...
And leaves again with a sack of potatoes.
Ass.
I step out. A humid kitchen.
A burst of steam from the combi-oven
I walk through the cloud like a super hero
Pot in one hand...
Wooden spoon in the other...
Chicken stock, rolling boil
A heavy pinch of sea salt rains down on
Young rapini
The sweet char of blistered red capsicum
Barrington slices the Prosciutto. Drag and click
The meat slicer struggles under the pressure
With a chisle, I stab lightly into the Parmesan
Flicking savoury chunks from the centre.
A piece of me with Frank the Bread Guy's
Dinner rolls...
Frank delivered the bread every morning
Olive oil skin, dangerous smile. Arms like
Tree trunks and dusty brown hair...
Eyes dark as night
Frank was my secret love...
However it wasn't much of a secret as I
Fumbled like a school girl when he entered
Focus...
Big Eddie and the boys will arrive in no time
I plopped figs into a cold bath of water
Bobbing like buoys in an ocean
Or maybe more like a bird bath
I butterflied chicken breast
Slices of prosciutto, shredded asiago
Lawrence whipped eggs for me
Barrington motored through fresh parsley
His massive boxer fists dump handle fulls into
Lawrence's eggy cheesy mix
Setting it beside me...ready for Eddie.
Vine ripe Roma tomatoes
Discs of rounds lay on a glass plate
Robust olive oil lapping over the edges
Haphazard shards of torn basil leaves
Balsamic reduction I made yesterday drawn over tomatoes
With ruby red skins...like sticky sweet ink
Screaming hot pan
Chicken breasts sear and sizzle
Marinara, home made by me bubbles
Slowly
A beaten hotel pan my chicken
Lined up military fashion
"Shall I assist you?" Asks Lawrence
I smile, "Yes chef...you're swell!" I say in approval
"Swell indeed!" as he rubs his rounded abdomen
I chuckle. He ladled the Sunday gravy
And pushed it into the oven.
I walked over the the espresso machine
A double shot sputtered out
As I sip I pluck the figs out of their bath
Gently I press them dry
"Like velvet babies, they look lovely today.."
I mutter to myself,
"Eddie and the boys will enjoy them,"
A strand of hair feathers across my eyes
With an upward huff I blow it out the way
A door slams.
Big Eddie here...already?
No, little Eddie. Junior.
"How's my favourite Hawaiian?"
A jolly laugh from both sides. He leans over
A double kiss and a fist bump.
"Fantastic, practising my hula dance for this weekend..."
I reply.
Carmine and the lot waltz in. Round one of the boys.
"Time for me to make magic! Talk to you soon Ed!"
Rolling boil. Stratchetella. Turn down the flame
Don't boil the Stratch!
Rickey, grandson-in-law slices the crusty baguette
Olive in a bowl. Balsamic in a bottle.
"Big Eddie is here, came through the back! What are they having?"
I look up from peeling cool peppers. A jelly texture between
My hands. Crushed roasted garlic waits to be tossed
With smokey capsicum and grilled onions.
"Stratch, Caprese - minus the Mozz. Haha!
Saltemboca, grilled pepps and onions,
His eyes widen.
"Rick! Get the wine! Oohh! Larry Larry Lorenzo!"
James - Jimmy calls out.
Tony and Chris throw their jackets on the counter.
I remove it.
A brotherly hug and a hard slap on the back of
Lawrence's chef coat.
"Fresh figs, parm...Romain lettuce with red wine vinegar and olive oil"
I complete.
8 men. Family style.
Platted main.
It's one of the boy's birthday.
Gelato gets scooped.
Empty bowls, plates, and glasses come back
Barrington hopes that they don't ask for seconds
Means a good lunch for us! As he always whispers in my ear.
Then out of the corner of my eye,
There stood a man.
Tinted glasses, with gold frames
Buttoned up t-shirt. Blue with fine white lines
Forming squares across this round body.
Grey slacks and semi-polished black shoes.
Pale white skin, thinning hair and a white-as-snow
Mustache.
His chubby face glowed. I rarely saw his eyes.
But I knew they were smiling.
His weathered hands reach for my face.
With his finger and thumb he pinches my cheeks
And pulls me close.
A hug and a double kiss..first the right
Then the left.
"This Girl right here! Oh my...that's my girl! You! You! Everyday! So good you cook!"
I blush and try to pull away. Too shy to say anything else other than,
"Thank you, I love that you love my food,"
He kisses my face again and slips his palm into
My palm.
He squeezes it shut and slowly saunters away.
I unfold my hand and there it was. A crumpled $100 bill.
And a note...
"Lovely lunch...Thank you - Eddie"
xo,
A Girl who likes to Cook
