you got hella veggies, hella dressings--man, you hella prepped.

It's Sunday. I am not responsible for doing anything whatsoever today. Last night I ended a 37-hour work week and I have the same schedule this coming week. But today is my day off.
Cooks have fucked up hands. Grab enough piping hot saute pans, scrub enough blackened bain-maries full of tomato basil soup that's been in the steam table too long with steel wool, pull enough steaks and skewers of scallops off the grill with your bare hands, and you'll find that moisturizing lotion just doesn't do anything for you anymore, because your hands have become more like tools--more similar to knives and spatulas and wooden
spoons than actual human appendages.
Work is cool, even though I work with an unnamed person who complains about every aspect of the restaurant business. This cook... he's a nice guy, but he's really got that classic back of the house versus front deal going on. Every time we get a special order for something--to bake some french fries or just make a sandwich a different way--he thinks the waitresses are the ones ordering this food, trying to piss us off. Yeah, I hate making shrimp tempura. It's probably the worst item on our menu because it takes ten to fifteen minutes to make and requires all of one cook's attention. But Jesus, man, if we get an order for it, it's our job to make it!

I kind of want to go to the Southside again. I might today for lack of anything to do. The city of Pittsburgh is made fun of for being an old city with no college age people. And it's somewhat true unless you go to Oakland or the Southside where all those young, artistic types are. That's where you'll find the weird vintage clothing stores, the discount music emporiums, the super crescent fresh coffeehouses (though Prana in the Strip is still my favorite, they've got better coffee). Yeah. Today is nice though. I can do whatever I want and have time to cook dinner. I got home so late last night that I made fettucini with sweated onion, garlic and rosemary tomato sauce, and pork chops breaded in flour and Old Bay with rosemary. Seriously, you can buy those shitty two-dollar packages of six thin-sliced pork chops and turn them into the most tender pieces of meat imaginable if you know what you're doing. Hardcore.

~why don't you add
a little more chicken base
this is a tasty sauce