How it all began…


My new blog will follow my food obsession. No, it will not be articulate. No, it will not be well thought out. Because I have no patience to edit or reread. That’s for English majors. I, was an English minor.

Some of you may know, but I’ve recently got a new job. I have officially climbed the ladder of success. After having suffered through internship after internship with no pay, I am now receiving MINIMUM WAGE. But that’s not what’s important. What’s important, is the experience. That’s what I keep telling myself. I’m working in the raggedly yet super shiny metal kitchen at the W hotel on Hilgard Ave. No, not as a line cook but as a lowly food prep only a few inches better than the carrot peeler. Literally, he stands at the sink next to me. For those that will be eating at the Nine Thirty, all salads and desserts will have gone through my unsanitary hands. Yes, I am in charge of all desserts and salads on Thursdays and Fridays from 3 pm to 12 am.

I think most that read this know that I have been an avid food eater for awhile now. Only recently have I realized eating butter on a knife and a bread roll hand in hand isn’t the best for my figure. But because of the adament insistence of my Jewish roommate, Erica Fox, I forced myself to apply as an intern, with no experience, no knife skills, nothing. Surprisingly, he hired me. Probably so they could laugh at the idiot asian girl trying to cook as well as sexually harrass her with dirty Mexican words. So now I work side by side with Danny, the 20 year old Mexican boy who doesn’t speak English. It’s pretty quiet in our station, but we manage to get along. Between salad mixups and plating errors, we find giggles. Mostly he just laughs because I can’t use a knife. But I’m learning!


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