Danger Zone - Stage Style

Remember back in the fall when I introduced you to the danger zone that was the razor sharp cabinet which decided to slice my finger practically in two?  Well, I still have the evidence of that danger zone and am hoping that the danger zone of a restaurant I work in now will not bring me any lifelong scars like that one.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm not a wimp; I simply prefer being intact and having pretty skin.  Sue me if you think I'm in the wrong profession for that.

Today, I introduce "Danger Zone - Stage Style."  And, I'm sorry, but I can't help but put another link to the Kenny Loggin's music video.  It's just too awesomely 80's for this child of the 80's to not bring it up again.  Back to the point - the kitchen is a dangerous place, especially a commercial kitchen.  There are virtual landmines everywhere you look.  Here are just a few examples of the dangers I have encountered so far:

- The mandoline (which I have mentioned before):  If you don't believe me, why don't you try slicing a wet potato on a mandoline and when it slips and the blade thinks your palm is the potato, we can talk about it then.  Yes, I have seen this happen.  And no, not to me, thankfully.

- Gas flames:  I heart working with gas flames.  It makes all the difference in the world to me when I am cooking.  However, it doesn't come without dangers.  Besides the regular danger of a gas explosion, it's also easy for things close to a gas flame to catch on fire.  Like, for example, me.  Yes, about a month ago I caught on fire.  Or rather the towel tucked neatly into my apron caught on fire (sorry mom and dad) and it took a minute for me to realize that the large flame was now attached to me.  No worries, though.  I grabbed it, threw it on the ground and stomped it out.  All the Chef de Partie had to say was that I was allowed to get a new towel.  I didn't have to use the one that was now essentially burned to ashes on the floor.  Oh, thanks.

- Stairs:  So, sure, stairs are not unique to a kitchen.  In fact, most kitchens don't have stairs.  However in Paris where real estate is small and pricey, many restaurants are multi-story, including the kitchens.  My restaurant is no exception.  The pastry room is in the basement along with the chambre froide (walk-in fridge), freezer, fishmonger, and pantry.  So, suffice it to say I do my fair share of running up and down 14 (yes, I counted) concrete stairs every day, one of which has an eerie looking red stain that freakishly resembles blood. 

And might I add that if you don't run up and down the stairs everyone seems to think you are a sack of lazy bones.  Sometimes I just want to scream, "There's barely anyone having lunch here today and we've done our entire mise en place, I think it is ok if I walk down/up the damn stairs!"  But, that is neither here nor there so sorry for the aside.

I try not to think of that stain as I carry huge, heavy copper pots full of boiling butter down to the pastry chef or when I am carting buckets full of bright orange fish soup that seem all too oddly eager to slosh over my body if I happen to trip and fall.  

I must admit - I had a fall last week.  Luckily, by the grace of God, I happened to not be carrying anything at all.  I'm not quite sure what happened but I have reason to believe it has something to do with the ugly as sin and way too big shoes I am still forced to wear.  Needless to say, the fall was not too pretty.  I flew into the air, landed on my back, one leg twisted up behind me and my shoulders/arms hanging on the rails on the wall.  This meant the next day I could barely move, especially my back and right shoulder, but at least no one saw me and at least I wasn't carrying the aforementioned boiling butter at the time.  Honestly, I feel like in my fight against the stairs I came out on top since I didn't contribute to what I maintain looks like a rather large blood stain.

- Broiler: Not an electric broiler like many readers might be used to.  This thing is called a Salamander and looks somewhat like this

except it has righteous flames that flare non-stop in order to heat, reheat or even cook some of our fish dishes.  Now, I used to be scared to have to stick my hand in between the rack and the flames (a gap that only a hand can fit in).  I quickly got over that once I realized that: 1) I really had no choice and 2) no one else seemed to come away with a charred hand.  What is scary is when it starts to act up.  For weeks straight, it would shoot wildly large flames down and out of the salamander, accompanied by freakishly scary loud booms.  This is the only time I have been somewhat scared for my life while in a kitchen.  I figured if the thing blew, there was really no chance, no time to get out.  That doesn't mean that I stood extra close to it, though, as I don't have a death wish.  Instead, I would stand as far away from it as I could, trying to act like I nonchalantly wanted to watch the people in the garde manger make the same dishes I had made hundreds of times.  Don't worry, a fix-it man was eventually called and now I'm back to sticking my hand under it with little fear.

- Knives: Now, this one seems obvious and it is. However, most people think of the knife as a danger to oneself. Cutting something too fast or not paying attention and nicking oneself is, of course, one of the dangers a knife can pose. However, there are other dangers as well.  If someone leaves a knife, say, in a sink full of otherwise non-cutting utensils and you stick your hands in it. Ouch. To me, however, the scariest thing about knives in the kitchen is other people's carelessness. You can be cut (or stabbed come to think of it) by someone else who is wielding a knife. I saw this the other night. Two very experienced chefs were working side by side. One turned to the other to show him something in his hand and SLICE went a knife into one of his fingers. Not a pretty sight.

I might be jinxing myself to say this, but after re-reading this post, I feel pretty good about having just one cut, one fall, and only one instance of being on fire so far in my stage.  Let's hope it stays that way for the remaining 5 weeks!