played basketball on my day off and was sweating through my shirt before we even had proper teams. kitchen heat just sits on you, this was different, i could feel my breathing catch up when i stopped running instead of staying hot for another six hours. calves were tight walking back but i liked being tired from something nobody was paying me to do. ate the sandwich id brought in about four bites and immediately wished id made two. one of the guys offered chips and i took way more than the polite amount. got home, showered, lay on the couch with wet hair and woke up an hour later with one shoe still beside my head. solid afternoon.

new kid on prep got through the rush without someone jumping in to finish for him and kept pretending it was no big deal. i know that face, i probably still make it. told him his station looked good and he grinned for half a second before getting all professional again. felt good watching him settle in, especially because the chef in my first kitchen wouldve found one dirty corner and made that the whole story. then i got home and my roommate had eaten the leftovers id labelled, so my generous spirit lasted exactly as long as the drive. he said he thought the label meant it was available. it was my NAME, man. incredible interpretation.

trying to work out why the breakfast potatoes taste better halfway through service than in the first pan. same cut, same seasoning, but the later batch gets more time sitting before it hits the heat and the pan itself is properly hot. i tested a small amount at home and got impatient waiting, which tells you something about the reliability of the experiment. roommate ate both versions and said potato is potato. useful panel, very rigorous. i can still taste the difference in my head, the crisp edge without the middle drying out. keep scribbling timings in the truck menu notebook even though im nowhere near having a truck. at least the potatoes don't require financing.