I was invited to Bin 54 yesterday for a working interview for the position of Pastry Chef.
This is my account of the evening:
I made Crème brulees, tempered chocolate and covered truffles, made an ice cream base (I didn't get to freeze it so as of now I have no idea how it turned out. This is a concern only because I used honey instead of sugar, which I have done before successfully, but not with this same type of recipe.)
A few other things included kicking myself for Still not knowing Spanish, and plating desserts for service.
I sat down with the Chef towards the end of the night to chat. The wait staff brought me a glass of wine, which was very nice. We talked for about 30 minutes, during which time I sipped my wine, while simultaneously becoming very aware of how little I had eaten in the last Oh, 8 hours.
He offered me the job, and I accepted.
It was while we talked logistics that the food to wine ratio really started to get out of hand.
Now, I want you all to understand, I was not drunk.
I suppose maybe I would have been had I not been so incredibly, conversation drowndingly , nauseous.
As it was, I was making every effort to breathe steadily and not make any sudden movements, while also trying to remain engaged in conversation, this alone is difficult enough, but I also had to have some sort of a plan, if it should happen that I could not keep it together. This, my friends, was terrifying.
The conversation came to somewhat of a close and I mentioned that I needed to get home to eat something, to which he replied that there was still 15 minutes left until service was officially over. No wait, THIS moment was the most terrifying. Go back into the hot kitchen and stand around with everyone for 15 minutes! That was not part of my plan.
I had to come clean. I told him I hadn't eaten enough and *hand to face in embarrassment* that I wasn't going to be able to go back to my station.
Whatever he thought at that moment, he was perfectly kind, and asked what he could bring out for me to eat. I'm pretty sure I don't need to explain this, but the idea of having a plate of steak and mashed potatoes in front of me just then, did not sound great. So then he offered a crab cake, still no. Lobster ravioli, …umm can I take a rain check on that one?… but seriously I can't fathom eating that right now.
Uuuuhhhhg. I wanted to crawl under my patio chair.
I assured him that I just needed some water and went inside to grab my things.
Apparently I handled myself well enough for him not to change his mind.
He shook my hand, and said “see you Monday”.
-Christie
