Diary of a Pastry Assistant

So this is what it comes to. My first post ever about being booted from a kitchen. It happens all the time, if not to you, it’s happening to the cooks next you in the kitchen. Sometimes it’s the best thing that could ever happen to you, sometimes it’s the worst, and sometimes it’s as bittersweet as the caramel you slightly burned the other day.

It happened to me today. For the first time ever. Sure, there have been times where it’s been mighty close to happening, but this is the first time I’ve had a chef pull me aside and tell me that I’m out. And you know what, it stung like fuck. I’m the type of person who isn’t used to being rejected, isn’t used to accepting an A-. So this was a weird, but logically sound, event.

And the odder thing is, this is what I’ve been wanting for the longest time ever. I’m over-worked and under-payed, like most kitchen employees, and I hated the position I was in - no camaraderie, no talking, pure ass-fucking hard work. ANd this still feels like a slap to the face. And to be honest, I’m still processing why.

There is something ingrained in cooks’ DNA that causes us to feel that the kitchen we work in and the quality of our performance is commensurate with our worth as a human being. It’s just the case, and as far as I can tell with kitchen culture, it’s something that’s going to be around for a very, very long time - if not forever. Being fired from a kitchen - whether you hate the place or not - is comparable to being told that you’re worthless and have nothing to contribute to society. It fucking sucks, but that’s the code that we operate on.