So much better – the shift went soooooo much better than the afternoon!
The evening was ten times smoother than this afternoon and I was surprised because Friday nights in restaurants are usually crazy. I got to work the amuse bouche station alone (with the chef in charge, but no one else) and we really got into a groove.
There were a few moments where I didn’t understand his French, but no major problems. In fact, I even surprised myself with how much I understood. He was very complimentary at the end and so was the Chef de Cuisine: “Bon travail, Amy!” Yippeeee!!!
Needless to say, I came home wired and happy. It took a few hours to unwind and a few glasses of wine. Every muscle in my body was aching, but luckily there’s no lunch shift on Saturday. No wonder why French chef’s have such a high suicide rate. How can they keep this type of work up for 12 hours a day?
Two days down, 88 to go. But who’s counting?
P.S. Thanks Gill for your last comment – you’re such a sweetie! Jeorg – soup is on me when you come to Paris!