I’m 5’4” what’s the deal!?

I am considering enrolling into one of these culinary schools, can anyone share any recent resources such as recipe books or other learner resources so I can better prepare myself (not looking for answers or anything like that, please DM me for email address if you have anything you would like to share with me.

I understand culinary school isn't for everyone so I am not looking for any negative feedback on these schools, thanks in advance.

Thumb/palm/index finger. On a a oven rack at 425°F. Don't buy this brand.

Should I go to culinary school or should I just get a job and work my way up I someday want to work in a high end restaurant I’m 18 and graduate in may what should I do

"Exotic" ingredient: check Appeals to rich, white demographic: check Cheap: check

Just watched the price of a jar I use personally skyrocket on Amazon. Dunno if it's supply issues or Foodie FOMO, but we tried a small taster on FoH and they were weirded out, but loved it. Rich/buillion factor.

Dilutes well with ketchup and/or hot sauce. Happy Jeffin'

This happened a while ago at an old job:

I truly believe that at most levels of this job, just about anybody can do this work. Degenerates and rejects of all kinds can and do perform fine work in kitchens if they a) can handle the pressure, and b) want to work hard. You can teach just about anybody how to sling food in a rush and clean up as long as they’re willing to do it, but they have to be willing to do it.

Essentially, this one high school kid was my fucking bane. I even hated how much I hated this kid. It made me angry to think about how angry I was getting about a kid who was barely old enough to drive, but I would consistently be shit on by my bosses and have my competence questioned for his tasks not being done, or trying to find him somewhere in the restaurant to tell him to get back to work, or make sure that he hadn’t done the most minimal and poor interpretation of a task I gave him and immediately gone back to fucking around, or just doing his job myself because I was so fucking tired of micromanaging him constantly every day. I campaigned so hard to get him fired, but his dad is BFFs with the owner so it wasn’t even seriously considered by anybody who had the authority to do so.

So one day, I asked him to sweep the prep hall. He did a shit job, I tell him to do it again. Somehow there’s even more shit on the floor than last time. I call him over and I just lost it and yelled at him, said he should be fucking embarrassed, does this look clean to him, why the fuck would I have to ask him to do a simple job three times, all in front of a good amount of staff who were hanging out around there. Honestly, horrible as it is, it felt kinda good to just shit on him.

But I was talking to a coworker/friend I worked with there, and he said I went too far, that he’s just a kid and I should have just asked him to do sweep again. I do think there’s some truth to that; it’s fucking embarrassing to beef with a high-schooler and to be that enraged by a legal child. But part of me does think this kid just… fucking, sucks so fucking much that he deserved worse.

So, what do you guys think

For real though... Always see posts here about balance and time off and stuff.

Best thing I started doing was talking about my work performance being closely related to my personal time to recharge during the first interview. I don't dwell on it or drag on, but I touch on things like consistent schedule, the occasional weekend off, and asking about protocol for requesting time off.

Some have acted dodgy and others have flat out said that won't happen. Either way, saves you a lot of headaches down the line.

I did it, I’m out. I feel alive. Thanks chefs, it’s been a slice. Here’s to new adventures.

Title is pretty self explanatory.. I have been struggling handling stress lately while line cooking and am becoming a monster. I'm really trying and ill spare details but my kitchen situation makes it very hard. Thumper always said that momma says 'if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all' and I'm trying. Really could use some advice

So, everywhere I've worked, they typically have some sort of dish that involves chopped up chicken, oil, and a pan. And all these places, they always show me how to do it, and they always do the same thing. Heat up the pan, heat up the oil, then throw in their portion of chicken. They do this for that sweet sweet sear right?

Now, my problem with this is that raw chicken and hot oil in a pan, sticks until it forms that nice crust, and when you're just dumping it from a portion bag, it's just a clump of chicken in the middle of the pan with like 25% of it actually getting the pan exposure until they twirl it around with the tongs, etc etc.

What I do which everyone gives me shit over but never explains why is: room temp pan, oil and chicken at the same time, spread the chicken out evenly with tongs, medium high heat, and then dont touch it at all until it has the golden crust, then flip it all and do whatever veggies it calls for. Is this heresy? Please lemme know lol

About a year ago, my friend group decided to set up a food not bombs group in our city (free vegan street kitchen thing). Bit of a shaky start, but eventually we got into a groove with some regular dishes. None of us have any industry training, but the cooking group have all learned some damn good recipes that are cheap, tasty, and nutritious. In fact, it's the flavour we take pride in - many of us have had to rough it before, and while most soup kitchen/charity trucks around here will keep you fed, having something cooked with attention to flavour is so damn uplifting. I Get used to knocking out a consistent, tasty ginger sesame fried rice, become the fried rice girl, and everything is well in the world.

And then it happens. A group contacted us, asks if we'll do a serve at some rally. We foolishly agree, and then later find out it's going to be something like 200 people there.

Now is a good time to point out that there's 3 of us doing the cooking, and usually 2~3 other people helping with prep. Not today though, the other two cooks are busy at their place making their own meals for the event, so it's just me and a friend helping with prep for the rice.

Work out portions and figure i'll need about 5kg of rice, an obscene amount of spring onions (shallots are expensive, and the flavour is close enough), 10 ginger roots and 4 bags of frozen peas, plus whatever donated veggies i can fit in.

One problem though - all i have to work with is a 6 cup rice cooker and a small wok on a home gas stove. At best i can cook about 15 serves at a time, and that's pushing it.

I figure the best plan of attack is to do a few batches of rice, prep all the fresh veggies, seasonings, and sauces, and then just run batches on the rice cooker as i work the wok. Put on some suitable music (mouth sounds, mouth silence, and mouth moods all on shuffle) and get into a rhythm. But a few hours in, and repeating the same dish, again and again, i feel something build up inside. I'm dancing more and more as i cook, singing louder and louder, yelling at the tofu to fry faster. Each batch is blurring together, I'm losing all sense of time, and it starts to feel like a bad trip stuck in an endless loop of pain. A thought starts to leak in. "You're not done when the food is, you still gotta clean up too". My soul is starting to break under this realization. Then it hits me, I've been browsing this sub for the stories for years, i know exactly what comes next.

Probably 4 hours in at this point, i walk into the garage, and i scream. I've never made a sound so full of primal anger and frustration before in my life, but there is a pain that needs to leave my body, and it can only escape through cries of agony. There's a silence after, i realize i scared off all the birds in the trees around the block. Come out, my friend is staring wide-eyed. "You good?" she asks, "Never better" i reply. The pain, still present, has diminished, and i can get back to cooking. It may have cost me my joie de vivre, but at least the fucking rice is cooked, packed and covered, ready to head out.

I have no idea how you line cooks in busy restaurants do this shit on the regular, but i have to thank you all so much for telling me about the walk-in scream. I underestimated just how much it helps, i could feel the anguish leave my body with that scream.

I'm sticking to the street serves from now on.

Let me set the scene: my new big boss is Dana, (not real name for privacy reasons) and the new manager we have is Sara.

Long story shorter: Me and Sara don't obviously get along. She is super strict and obviously has her way of doing things, but what I noticed recently is that she lives to give me verbal orders, complicated ones, and not write it down due to my autism or at least re explain so I can understand easier.

Well, today (as well as the past few weeks) I STILL get complicated verbal orders. I calmly explained that to please write it down, or re explain it. (I have a notepad I use too, and have used it btw)

Well, Sara gets short with me. Another point today is that there were fries in the oven that were done, and fries that were not done and no one told me about. (They tend to exclude me from conversations, Sara and the Lead) I pulled the fries out and they weren't done, and then Sara said something snarky to the effect of, "do those look done? Sometimes I don't understand sarcasm, but today I completely understood, so with a straight face I said ,"no, obviously not. That comment was very unprofessional the Way you said that," and put the fries back in the oven.

Ok, now that that's out of the way, on to the main reason I'm typing this!

I get news today, just before second rush that I'm being transferred back to grab and go. The conversation went something like this:

Lead: you're being transferred back to grab and go.

Me: how come?

Lead: I've noticed you're strengths are stronger in that department

Sara: yeah, besides, I need someone who can take instructions and carry them out without being told step by step. .

Me: oh, ok. (Getting the feeling Sara can't handle my autism and isn't very accommodating) Well thank you for letting me know!

Turns out she doesn't like to accommodate people like me and prefers non autistic people.

So, yeah. That's the whole spiel. .

I'm not looking for advice. But if you have any, it is welcomed. Thanks for reading.

I found this gem from a few years ago. Makes me miss my old coworkers and appreciate the good times amongst the soul-stealing grind.

Hey chefs, I've been struggling with the balance of the restaurant and my life. How do you guys make the time for relationships and family? It feels lately like I have to pick one or the other.

I have an interview for a kitchen position in a MD casino. Just moved to the area what should I ask for pay wise.? And what should I expect as far as the job goes

Hi, not sure if this is allowed but I need to try. I am looking for a job as a line cook or dishwasher in montreal. I have 3 years of experience working part time in a breakfast restaurant. One year of line cook in a Pub. Looking for part time (20-30h) Tips to find one are welcome too. Thank you all

Background: I'm a mid 40s woman who's been cooking since I was 14. I consider myself an excellent home cook. I have always been praised by my family for being "the best cook". I'm dating a man (52) who used to be a high end restaurant owner. He trained at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. He is pretty easy going, though...says he fell in love with me when I made HIM tuna salad sandwiches. Says no one makes HIM food, and he really appreciates it.

He likes to be in the kitchen with me when I cook, but I hate it! I'm so insecure when I cook for him....a feeling I'm not used to; cooking was my flex! He is always complimentary, but I wonder if there's silent judging or a repressed desire to tell me how to do something, or what I'm doing wrong. Last night I finally had to tell him to stay out of the kitchen. I think his feelings got a little hurt. He says that the kitchen is a teamwork place and he only wants to help... even if that's just doing dishes. In my last marriage (18 years) my ex husband just sat on the couch and I'd do my thing and bring it to him. That's what I'm used to, but maybe I need to adjust my thinking.

Can you chef-folks give me some advice or encouragement? I really love this person...a love of food brought us together...I don't want something silly like this being a bigger issue than it is!

I'm 5" and had to get a ladder to safely put away these pans. Glad I drank an energy drink this morning.

The place is a counter service burrito place (not a chain). Loads of prep gets done in the morning, then the hood fans get turned off for the rest of the day. The thing is though, when more ingredients are needed or somebody orders a quesadilla, we use the gas stove. Sometimes some minor prep work goes on late so there will be 2-3 burners going for long periods of time with no hood fan on. If it gets particularly busy there can be multiple quesadilla pans going, a few burners heating food, and a salamander going, and I am the only motherfucker there who thinks maybe turning on the hood is a good idea.

I've asked about it and expressed concern and gotten generally lukewarm response. One time I went to the back and found the air literally hazy with smoke from a burned quesadilla and the dude back there (been working here for 6 years) didn't want me to turn on the hood fan because "it's not a big deal". Another time, prep went on into the closing shift and the two ladies back there had like 5 burners running with the back door shut and the hood fan off. I swear to god walking into the kitchen felt like I walked into a rainforest it was so hot and humid and I guess nobody gives a fuck? I was just trying to hold my breath when I went back there because that air had to be toxic as shit. But the kitchen is open to the service area so I guess I, and the customers, are getting it anyways.

I asked a manager why they turn the hood fan off, and apparently it is because the gas water heater in the office becomes a carbon monoxide hazard when the door to the office is open. The thing is the door to the office is always open and I have no idea why because the only reason to go back there during the day is to get rags or aprons. I said it's pretty fucked up that we don't use the hood fan and I don't want that stuff in my lungs. She said it's better than getting carbon monoxide in my lungs, and when I pushed further, she brushed it off with "I have bigger things to worry about" and ended the topic. No other workers have seemed concerned about it at all. I haven't brought it up with the owner yet.

I mostly just throw on the hood fan and shut the office door when I have to be in the kitchen for longer than a few minutes at this point even though it seems to annoy people and it quickly gets turned back off after I leave. The job is really enjoyable, most of the people are cool, the pay is great, and scheduling is super flexible around college so I don't want to make a big deal about it, but man. I've always been a stickler for ventilation in the workplace, and this one thing is really pissing me off. I don't want to be "that guy" though.

I dunno, what do you all think? Rare occasions like I mentioned earlier aside, there is normally not a lot getting cooked during the shifts I work so I guess I kind of get it. But man, come on. Just leave the damn hood fan on until close like every other fucking restaurant. Lord knows restaurant gas burners are probably making more carbon monoxide than that water heater is anyways.

Am I making a big deal about nothing or is this as fucked as I think it is? Is it worth trying to push? Nobody seems to feel strongly that they want to keep it off, it's just like the culture here has that as the "norm" and nobody wants to change it. They seem puzzled as to why I think it's wrong to be burning gas with no ventilation. Winter is coming fast so I'm sure the "it's too cold to leave the door open or run the fan" is coming soon, too.

I'm a shift leader, and have written up this one cook multiple times for NCNS'ing because she won't show up, and then literally an hour before her shift is supposed to be over call in claiming she's so sick that she slept through her alarm. Whenever this happens, she goes to the KM and shows him her phone records that say she did indeed call out, and he removes the write up from her record. Am I wrong on writing her up as a NCNS? There isn't a write up option for a call out. At what point is calling in excessively late worth the warning?

ETA: many of you have suggested that KM allows this because he is fucking her. Could be, absolutely not going to stake my paycheck against that idea. However, my personal theory is that it is because he has been tweaking (amount of drugs involved in tweak unknown) about needing more employees and genuinely believes that if you have an unreliable trainee you "just have to teach them to love their job and they'll want to shape up" and therefore treats them far better than his fully trained ones. To the point that new employees are always cut on time even if we are in the weeds and they are being helpful. So I think he's trying to teach her to love her job in hopes that it will magically make her stop doing shit like this.

There have to be elites who bring it. Just wanting to hear stories about the food they made or other aspects of them

Time to vent boys, I work in a chef agency that staffs temp chefs around my city and on Monday I was sent to an events kitchen in a 5 star hotel. Place was dirty and disorganised but that's besides the point.

I had to assemble canapes for a banquet and send them down to the pass. The entire evening the sous and the head were berating me to work faster (they would tell me to make a dish, then 30 seconds later shout at me asking where the fuck is it when they know they have to be refreshed in the oven for 1 min to heat up).

At some point the sous asked me to make him 12 gyozas. I flash them in the fryer and bring em over. He looks at me and asks me if that's 12. I look down then at him and confirm yes. He starts to count them and tells me it's 11, we go back and fourth at this fucking tiny tray of gyozas until I try to invoke pattern recognition in his coke fried brain by arranging them in 4s to show it's 12. And for the first time ever in my life I shouted in a kitchen as I'm a relatively calm guy. He tells me to shut up and bring him one more.

I go back and bring him one more gyoza and by the time he already plated the 12 and looks at me with a dead stare saying he meant 13. He eats the 13th gyoza and sends away the plate of 12.

Angry regards, Temp chef.