Me, Maladroite?

I don’t typically consider myself a clumsy (maladroite in French) person. I can hold myriad one legged yoga poses for minutes. I used to flip around on a balance beam without falling for goodness sake. Why, then, oh why was last week such a disaster at the restaurant in terms of me dropping things?


In a span of just two days, I dropped the following and I’m fairly sure it did not go unnoticed:

Cutting boards - We use really heavy and huge cutting boards. The name of the game in the restaurant is to be as quick and efficient as possible. So, despite their size, we try to bring four of them all at once from the dishwasher to the kitchen. It’s not an easy task, but can be done. That is, if you don’t run into a protruding countertop which prompts them to all fall to the floor with a crash. As one of the chefs came in to see what had happened, she laughed and called down to everyone who was wondering what in the world that noise was and joking said, “We’ve lost the stagiare. She’s a goner.”

Microwave oven plate - You know that glass plate that is a permanent fixture in a microwave? Well, the restaurant where I work no longer has one of those thanks to me. In a pinch, we had to reheat something in the microwave (which is on a shelf taller than I am), and as I went to pull the item out the glass plate also came out and crashed to the floor in dozens of pieces.  Yep, right in the middle of lunch service. Silence and stares followed. Oops.

Sliced green onions - I tried desperately to save the just sliced green onions by flinging myself against the counter as they tumbled to the floor between me and the cutting board. Problem is, once you have flung yourself against the counter there is no real way to grab the tiny pieces of sliced onions. So, you have to submit to the pain, take a step back and watch them all fall to the floor (or stick to the fridge that is positioned under the counter). To add insult to injury, a chef de partie said as she looked from me to the floor, “C’est dommage. C’était bien fait.” (That’s a shame, they were done well). I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that they don’t offer up the words bien fait to the stagiares often. Double whammy – not only did I just throw away perfectly good produce (aka money), but I also had done a good job cutting it.

Salt - Minutes and I do mean minutes later, I knocked a salt container over on the same chef de partie’s cutting board. I furiously hurried to put the salt back in the container before she saw me, but to no avail. I smiled and shook my head at her, intimating that I have no idea what is wrong with me today. Her response, “Pas grave. Calme-toi.” (Not a big deal but just calm down). Problem is, I was calm. I wish I had been frazzled and that could explain my clumsiness, but it just was not the case.  The clumsiness was a product of something else; I just don't know what.

Ice cubes - Then at lunch that same day, ice cubes were available for our drinks (I know, weird to see that in France). Being the American I am, I happily went to grab a huge handful of ice and it slipped out of my hand. I nonchalantly tried to pick it up off the floor and act like nothing had happened. I am fairly sure everyone was thinking, “What is the American stagiare doing exactly,” before they went back to their meal of ketchup covered pasta.

Oil - Later that night during dinner service as I grabbed an oil mixture to dress a plate, it went flying out of the little pot it was in and spilled all over the container where we hold condiments. By this time, I was getting good at acting like nothing had happened. I made no expression and simply left it there. Later I caught a break where no one was looking to wipe up the mess anonymously.

Scallop - Still later that same night as I was cooking the scallops, one flew off my spatula behind the plancha (griddle). After quickly grabbing a replacement, I so wanted to leave the little lost scallop behind the cooking device. I mean, who would ever see it? However, I started to think that was not such a good idea. It could attract bugs or animals or start to smell, maybe.  That would prompt an inquest into who had dropped it back there and then just left it there to boot.  No, I could not leave it.  I would have to go in after it when no one was paying attention. A few minutes later, I did just that and luckily no one noticed as I tossed it into the trash.

I guess if I continue my maladroite-ness, I have at least learned to hide it better than when I began.  Here's, though, to hoping that was just a freak couple of days and from here on out I will be as graceful in the kitchen as a bird in flight.