Back in the Swing of Things

I am not a good sales person. While my job at the water park doesn't necessarily require me to be one, it helps. I just can't do it, though. When people ask me how much the cabanas (basically a big tent with a fan) cost, I tell them, then offer free alternatives. I try to give them as many different free options for seating as possible because honestly, I think it's the nice thing to do. The guests have already paid however much money to get into the park, why pay more just to sit in the shade? This job has also shown me how much of a natural born gopher I am; my lot in life is to follow and serve, at least for now. I'm okay with that, too because I know that we can't all be leaders. I finished reading Kitchen Confidential today and it made me long to be an underling, a line cook or sous-chef at some restaurant. The fast paced nature of it sounds wonderful compared to my job right now and while people say it must be great to get paid to do nothing, I have better things to do with my time than sit around with my thumb up my ass. Things like actually working. Or cooking.

Tonight, after over a week of not cooking, I finally made something I'm proud of. Unfortunately there are no pictures because my camera doesn't have batteries, but I'll put up the link to the website I took it from. Tonight's menu was roasted basil shrimp, which was really good and surprisingly easy. The hardest part was butterflying the shrimp, a skill I definitely need to hone better. I found it interesting that the soup/ sauce that you make with it is more alcohol than anything else. Not that I'm complaining, I like being able to taste the alcohol, I just thought it was different. Since I had already used all of my white wine I used rum that was leftover from a party, a good substitute in my inexperienced opinion. It was either that or whiskey, which I know would have thrown the flavor off.

The only regret I have with this dish is the bread I served with it. I love and cherish bread; it is the staff of civilization. Due to my lack of knives, though, I had to abuse my bread in order to eat it, violently tearing it with my hands instead of properly slicing it. Bread, like meat, can't be man-handled; you have to treat it nicely. That goes with most food, really. Food can be like a needy, spoiled child that requires constant coddling and affection. Not that I mind because if you do it right, you'll find yourself ascending to sensual Nirvana where only those that truly care go. And speaking of bread, I have not baked in far too long so that is what I'm going to do on my day off tomorrow. I'll have batteries by then, too, so you'll be able to see my work. I'm quite proud of my bread, but there's always room for improvement. So until tomorrow, peace out.

Roasted Basil Shrimp