It was a hundred and ten today, which made it a hundred and twenty on the line. I always thought that part in the first season of Hell's Kitchen was funny--y'know, the one where Chef Ramsey turns off the a/c for the losing side, and they have to do their service without any? Every kitchen has fresh air intakes right over the power equipment, ('das so the line doesn't suffocate, but that's neither here nor there...)but with the heat and humidity rolling in overhead, grease from the fryers, the smoke and grill-black. I'm just damned glad we don't use the four-eye for anything except keeping a backup.
A saute station would be too damned much.
Nobody cares if we have water bottles in the freezer, and drinks in the Delfield. But Brioche says, "so...Jodi, you know you can go into shock if you drink really cold water when you're overheated?" To which, I didn't say much at all, because--right, I don't care if I go into shock. I want some water. I want it cold, and I want those little icicles, because--hey! It's HOT. I want to bring my internal temp down to a manageable level, do I LOOK like cryo-vac'ed soup?
Thank God, the day is over. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, at least it cools down at night.
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