Page 2 of 11 FirstFirst 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ... LastLast
Results 26 to 50 of 254
  1. #26
    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Location
    I smell poutine!!!
    Posts
    12,403
    I had 1/100th of the adventures in this thread, can totally relate to the rest, and decided early enough that cooking wasn't what I wanted to do if I didn't have to. I do IT now.

  2. #27
    Join Date
    Dec 2005
    Location
    Posts
    12,472
    Quote Originally Posted by riser3 View Post
    I had 1/100th of the adventures in this thread, can totally relate to the rest, and decided early enough that cooking wasn't what I wanted to do if I didn't have to. I do IT now.
    If I’d known cooking was this exciting and this much fun I’d have done that instead of fighting wildfire.

  3. #28
    Join Date
    Dec 2010
    Posts
    375
    Quote Originally Posted by gravitylover View Post
    And I thought I did some shit. Dude!

    Where's your restaurant? I'm coming for a visit next week.
    Is it in NY or upstate NY?

  4. #29
    Join Date
    Feb 2013
    Location
    Methow Valley
    Posts
    1,121
    Who cares about the restaurant name? I want to know how the name papapoopski came to be.

  5. #30
    Join Date
    Sep 2009
    Location
    Down by the river, Terrace, BC
    Posts
    3,609
    Shit damn papapoopski, keep it comin. Damn entertaining read sir.
    “I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different.”
    ― Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country

    www.mymountaincoop.ca

    This is OUR mountain - come join us!

  6. #31
    Join Date
    Mar 2006
    Location
    General Sherman's Favorite City
    Posts
    22,163
    Quote Originally Posted by tetzen View Post
    Is it in NY or upstate NY?
    Oh the hell you didn’t...
    I still call it The Jake.

  7. #32
    Join Date
    Oct 2006
    Location
    Bellevue
    Posts
    5,682
    [QUOTE=Shredhead;6111609]
    Quote Originally Posted by papapoopski View Post
    As a young cook in Aspen I worked my way up


    I had to leave that town. So much sin. [\QUOTE]

    Little Nell, early 90’s?
    Cokey Mcblowjob??


    Great stories!

  8. #33
    Join Date
    Mar 2017
    Location
    Missoula DMV
    Posts
    981
    This novel is comin’ outta nowhere


    Sent from my iPhone using TGR Forums

  9. #34
    Join Date
    Feb 2005
    Posts
    13,803
    Here, 25 minutes of meal prep:

    https://www.heavy-r.com/video/213428..._With_Her_Ass/

    This IS very NSFW. Or other culinary adventures.
    Last edited by MakersTeleMark; 10-29-2020 at 02:21 AM.

  10. #35
    Join Date
    Oct 2006
    Location
    Bellevue
    Posts
    5,682
    Whatever that is doesn't seem like a good addition to this thread.

  11. #36
    Join Date
    Feb 2005
    Posts
    13,803
    Quote Originally Posted by abraham View Post
    Whatever that is doesn't seem like a good addition to this thread.
    Taste the rainbow. This is the 1st time in TRG history that a tread title has been edited to exclude NSFW. Prove me wrong.

  12. #37
    Join Date
    Jun 2020
    Location
    Tremontaine
    Posts
    79
    Love the stories; keep ‘em coming! As other said, this could be on the big screen.

  13. #38
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Posts
    6,555
    Hungry now.

    Thanks for sharing pps.

  14. #39
    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Location
    I smell poutine!!!
    Posts
    12,403
    Quote Originally Posted by Meadow Skipper View Post
    If I’d known cooking was this exciting and this much fun I’d have done that instead of fighting wildfire.
    The shenanigans were fun at first, but cooking wasn't my passion, or even something I was going to be more than just good at, but not great at. Once I figured that out, goofing around wasn't as fun anymore. I have a lousy sense of smell, so I miss out on subtle flavors. Nobody wants to pay the top dollar for food cooked by a guy who can't really taste the entire profile, and worse, can't always taste if something is past it's sell by date. And institutional or chain restaraunt cooking never appealed to me. While the whip cream pie on the last day has been around forever, the OP story is way beyond any of the silly stories I have. Mine are child's play. Even the time I had to spend scrubbing whipped cream out of the intricate woodwork inside the old Deja Vu in Burlington due to a whipped cream pie gone wrong. Anyway, this thread isn't about me.

  15. #40
    Join Date
    Apr 2004
    Location
    Southeast New York
    Posts
    7,902
    ^^ Yup that's why I lost the passion for restaurant cooking, my sense of smell sux.

  16. #41
    Join Date
    Feb 2005
    Location
    the most beautiful place in the whole wide world
    Posts
    1,822
    I think this is Anthony Bourdain's ghost (RIP Anthony)

  17. #42
    Join Date
    Sep 2005
    Location
    PRB
    Posts
    24,134
    Quote Originally Posted by MakersTeleMark View Post
    Taste the rainbow. This is the 1st time in TRG history that a tread title has been edited to exclude NSFW. Prove me wrong.
    The thread title was never edited, it never had NSFW in it.
    "fuck off you asshat gaper shit for brains fucktard wanker." - Jesus Christ
    "She was tossing her bean salad with the vigor of a Drunken Pop princess so I walked out of the corner and said.... "need a hand?"" - Odin
    "I'd eat a bag of Dicks and wash it down with a Coke any day." - iceman

  18. #43
    Join Date
    Dec 2008
    Location
    Salida, CO
    Posts
    1,275
    sell the TV rights to Netflix

  19. #44
    Join Date
    Dec 2011
    Posts
    288
    I appreciate al the reply's from everyone. I do read them all, usually multiple times. Connecting and interacting with people is not a great skill for me. I need to write to unscramble all of the shit in my head.

  20. #45
    Join Date
    Apr 2006
    Location
    Tahoe
    Posts
    1,425
    You are an excellent writer - its not just the content of the stories but the way they are told. I think you missed your calling.

  21. #46
    Join Date
    Dec 2011
    Posts
    288
    Cooking school

    I went to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park NY. It sits right on the Hudson River. It is a little downriver from The Roosevelt and Vanderbilt mansions. It is a beautiful oasis of food, a culinary utopia. Nearby is the city of Poughkeepsie. When I was in school Poughkeepsie had the highest murder rate in the country. I stayed on campus. The average age at that time was 27 and about 85% male. I was 18 when I began. None of my classmates took me seriously due to my age. One of my classmates was aWW2 vet. He was a big badass dude that just wanted to make bread. He was in his 70's or so. He didn't last long in school but I have a lot of respect for him.

    I loved my time there. I stayed on campus during the week and went back home every weekend to cook. School was Mon - Friday. Work was Fri - Sun. Friday mornings would have me up at 5am class until 4 or so. I would run from class in my chef whites straight to my car. Speed like hell for about an hour, e brake slide into my spot in the grass at the restaurant, run to the door and straight onto the line. There was no locker room or clock in. We just worked. Cook then clean until midnight or so then cook all day Saturday and Sunday. Sunday after work I’d speed like hell back to school, piss off my roommate for waking him up then back to school.

    It wasn’t hard to pass classes but it was very hard to do well there. I always did well enough academically. Up to then learning just meant memorizing things to transfer from one point in time to a later point in time. That wasn’t knowledge or wisdom or common sense to me. That was just downloading and uploading data. I came in to school very naive but I had built a lot of muscle memory working for years in a kitchen. I could handle a hot pan. I could handle the heat. I could handle pressure. Other guys struggled when it came to learning new things because they had to absorb so much newness. I could absorb the new info because I was raised as a worker so I didn’t have to think about the physical aspect. Others were more experienced or had more raw talent but I was hungry. I took class seriously and ate it up as fast as I could get it, even if I had no idea what I was doing. Outside of school others would rise much faster than I for their personalities. I rose up out of determination.

    To the son of a that famous winemaker - You asked to borrow my bike to ride into Poughkeepsie to see the sights. No fucking way. You borrowed someone else's and traded it for drugs. Ass hole. Your rich parents must have made a generous contribution to school because there’s no way your mouth had any business talking back to the chefs. When we got to the higher classes you couldn’t handle shit on the line. You crumbled under the pressure and blamed your partners around you. When you talked back to the wrong chef you were thrown out of school not because they were against you, you did it to yourself.

    For my 20th birthday my roommate bought me a bottle of goldschlager. I chugged the whole bottle in 15 minutes, as one does. I painted the walls of the community shower with vomit. To this day I cannot stomach the smell of that vile concoction.

    Speaking of those community showers. I found a butter wrapper in the showers one day. Not a four oz stick. A pound of butter. That’s a lot of butter. Why the fuck was it in the shower?

    For some reason my roommate and I were the only males on the floor of the only female wing of the dorms. I never met a single one of them. When we entered the hallway we could hear the doors lock. I never meant harm to anyone. I was always polite to others. I imagine that the screaming coming from our room when we played mortal combat about ripping heads off and “I’m gonna kill you” didn’t help. We would get pretty drunk and eat boursin cheese. I would’ve done the same in their shoes.

    In my Wines and Spirits class we tasted wines from all over the world. I knew nothing about this world of wine. I bought whatever was the cheapest beer in the store. Natty light was a step up from the other brands. My palate was bombarded and confused. You want me to taste, kerosene, leather and cat urine? These wine makers are full of shit. I was 19. Because it was an educational setting I was allowed to taste as long as I spit. Yeah, sure. I did learn a lot.

    On one of those classes we made our way to the auditorium. Our very strict instructor introduced us to a rep from a liquor company, told us to behave and then left. After the wine instructor leaves the liquor rep tells us that we’re going to have some fun. We each have 10 wine glasses in front of us. He tells the students to pour samples on the liquors which were sambuca, tequila, jack daniels, captain morgan etc. Why the fuck were we tasting this? Each glass was poured so that the surface tension created a slight dome above the rim of the glass. And then we drank. Some people passed out. Some threw up in the bushes out front. If you present me with a challenge I will rise. I drank all of it. I could barely see going back to my dorm. Thank god I threw up . That liquor rep should have been charged with manslaughter. My brother came to visit that day and couldn’t wake me up for several hours. He asked what the hell I was doing in that school. Well of course since my brother is in town, we went out drinking that night. We rode the wheeled carts from the loading dock into Lake veloute. We slept on the shore of the hudson river by the train tracks and only woke up because the tide came and soaked our shoes.

    My friend across the hall in the dorm got a new roommate one day. Let's call him Ricky. Ricky was about 6'6", combat boots, shaved head and liked to pass the time tattooing himself. Ricky was not of this world. We got along fine but Ricky was a scary dude. I met his mom, sweet enough lady but I sensed a dark side. Ricky and I used to play diving for beers in the Hudson River. Throw a can in, then dive after it. Thrilling stuff. We decided to swim across the river one day. I learned about river currents. We made it halfway out and found ourselves getting pulled downriver pretty far. We were getting pretty exhausted. A guy out for a ride picked us up in his boat. We were very lucky. He gave us ritz crackers and told us we were stupid. We agreed.

    I had left for SC and upon my return learned that Ricky fucked up. He and a companion went to NYC to buy crack. Ricky flipped out stabbed the crack dealer and his companion, took the money and crack and came back to school. I can't confirm this story but apparently many police were called and dragged Rickey away. WTF Ricky, I met your mom fer christ sake.

  22. #47
    Join Date
    Dec 2011
    Posts
    288
    More from cooking school

    Chef P. was about 5’ tall but his personality filled the room. You did not fuck with him. If you stepped out of line he would cut you down with old school wrath. Underneath his armor was a heart of gold. He talked about the financials of cooking at home for he and his son. I remember his voice softening when he spoke of those times.

    My partner and I were assigned fish consommé that day. Oh god the fucking holy grail of cooking school. It was one of those things that could be fucked up pretty easily since we had very little experience making it. We followed the recipe. My partner disappeared as we put it on the stove. You ass hole you just left me to die in the jungle. I feel like I went blank, you do not disappoint Chef P. I don’t know how but the consommé came out perfect. I have never made a consommé since then that was so crystal clear and pure of flavor, It was like a miracle in that pot. Mt ass hole partner came back just at the end before Chef P came back around. Chef P looked at it, tasted it and spoke in a low, slow voice. “Dis is veeery good my young cooook” It was ominous, accusatory. We didn’t say anything accept, “yes, chef” By the way those two words are the only real vocabulary you need in a lot of kitchens. Just shut the fuck up and say yes chef. If you fuck up say yes chef. If chef compliments you, yes chef. If you are caught having sex with the hostess in dry storage, yes chef. If chef sees you dumping a body off a bridge, yes chef, (I'm kidding, but still, yes chef is appropriate in that situation) and so on and so forth.

    For some reason Chef P. wasn't in class one day. He met with us for 5 minutes to give us an assignment then left, we still had to feed the students. It turned into lord of the flies. Some of the older guys argued about who was leading us as a group, loud arguing ensued, a food fight broke out. What the fuck were we doing? This is Chef P’s kitchen. If he came back would have awakened the angel of death. We somehow got food out to serve to the other students He didn’t return until we were serving. We were all covered in various foods. He eye fucked us all and not in a good way. I felt like I escaped death that day.

    Another Chef P. lesson. He taught us how to truss a chicken. He was careful and methodical in taking us through the steps, speaking slowly and calmly. He then started over to show us again but this time at full speed. He worked so fast I could barely see his hands. When he was done he said, When the chicken is done like this...IT WILL NEVER COME APART!!. He screamed this at the top of his lungs and threw the chicken across the kitchen. It hit the wall hard, and it did not come apart. We were all wide eyed and silent. This guy was fucking crazy. I loved it.

    I was assigned to cook a bunch of cauliflower for Chef P’s class. We learned banquets in this class. I overcooked the ever-loving shit out of the cauliflower. Of fuck. I sheepishly told Chef P. He remained calm. He didn’t cut me down like I thought he would. He told me to cool it, mix in a few bread crumbs and parmesan, place the mixture into muffin tins, then make a Mournay sauce to cover the top. I learned a valuable lesson that day about not freaking the fuck out when presented with a problem. The problem would be there whether or not I am calm, frustrated, angry, drunk, screaming or whatever. I had a choice on how to handle the problem. Thanks Chef P.

    Chef O was my Garde Mange instructor. We made things like pate en croute, cold prepared meat dishes, cured fish, extremely classic food that nobody serves anymore. Chef O was teaching us how to make a savory tart dough. He began by simply preparing the wooden table. He was perfectly silent. He washed it with water. He dried it with a towel. He sprinkled flour on the table then worked the flour against the table just with his hands. The flour stuck to any moisture left behind. The guy wasn't doing much but for some reason it came across with such force to me. It was like watching a zen master work. Perfectly efficient in his movements and without saying a word he taught me the importance of preparing each step. Such a subtle thing but it came across as very important to me.

    Chef O recognized that I was not surrounding myself with those that would benefit me in life. My partners were useless. I tried my damndest in class. He asked me to come with him to get a few supplies. In the dry storage area he asked what I was doing after I graduated. I said I didn't know. He told me to work for the best chef that I could find.

    So I did. Eventually.

    Stupidly simple advice but I needed it. It was the act of him reaching out to me that mattered.

    At that time, every three weeks a new class comes in and a new class graduates to send an ever revolving army of young cooks out into the world.

    I graduated and watched my classmates disperse to all corners of the world. I went back home to repay my cooking school debts to the owners of the restaurant.


    I have many more stories from my time there.

  23. #48
    Join Date
    Dec 2005
    Posts
    4,441
    I said it before and I’ll say it again - this is what I thought reading “Kitchen Confidential” was going to be like considering it’s best seller status/cult following.

    You have a gift for writing if you can put up posts like this on a ski forum with what feels like minimal effort. Coupled with the authenticity of your stories it makes for engrossing reading - I’m already yearning for more.

  24. #49
    Join Date
    Dec 2005
    Location
    Posts
    12,472

  25. #50
    Join Date
    Sep 2018
    Posts
    2,031
    I was a bartender from when I was 16 till I graduated college. Best job I ever had. So many insane stories. But I can't imagine doing it now. I'm not sure I'd still be here. More power to ya Papa, and I look forward to the rest of the stories, especially the ones when you are older, and especially when it gets tough. Owning a restaurant is really, really hard, especially the last 6 months. Keep venting man, and keep at it.

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •