Why The Silent Treatment.
BECAUSE THERE’S NOTHING GOING ON. Nothing. Is. Happening.
Perhaps it seemed far more exciting to me at the beginning of the season – when, you know, cooking a three-course evening meal, with options, and canapes and a cooked breakfast was some kind of challenge – but now it’s really not that impressive.
I mean yes it’s still a lot of work but once you’ve done it… thinking… checking the calender… 93 times (woah!) it becomes water off a marmottes’ back. I suppose you get into a rhythm and a routine and you know it’s possible and you just get on with it.
And after a while when there’s little snow you get into another routine… partying. That’s what seasonnaires do apparently. They hit it from both sides.
So I thought I’d pop in and say ‘hi’ and explain that the reason that I’ve not posted much recently is simply because there ain’t that much to say.
We’ve had some great guests – who’ve been great fun – and I’ve messed around with the menu a few times to keep me on my toes – a few spatula’s thrown against the wall here and there but nothing too outrageous. There was this chap who’d booked the chalet out for him and his friends and he was the last to come down for breakfast and I just couldn’t cook him a bloody poached egg!! I must have gone through fifteen of the fuckers – throwing them against the wall but I just couldn’t get a good one out. Which is ridiculous as I’ve have eleven in the pan at one time and they’ve all come out great – but that morning I was still wasted from the night before and these eggs were not playing ball. Anyway eventually he got an apology and two pretty perfect poachies – and I went back into the kitchen and cleaned up the fourteen that got away… off the wall.
And then there was curry night – which is always pretty manic because there are so many elements (any you’re still doing starters and another option for main) and if you go wrong with anything then you’re ‘in the weeds’ and they take some getting out of! So my chickpea dish was utterly fucked because I hadn’t sweated the onions off for long enough – and you’ll find once one thing goes wrong it can all start to fall apart. Which it did… for a good ten minutes. So after chucking half a curry in a huff I had to go and get some air and be ‘very professional’ and come back in and sort it out and just get it done. I’m still finding that bloody curry!!! Got everywhere.
So there’ve been ups and downs but really I’m pretty proud that I’ve held it together, and got to a level where I can say: “yep I can feed eighteen people a three-courser with options – night on night – and feel like it’s not much bother”.
But I am me – and I can get stressed out when some things don’t play fair – and that’s normally when still pissed. Those fucking poached eggs did not help the hangover…