Oh hey Brooke, you know the flan that you were working on all day yesterday? The ones that you stayed late to finish because I called you after I left to say that I needed 25 more? Well, they're all wrong.
Why? Well, you used the wrong size ramekins...yes the ones you were told to use were wrong. Also, you baked them in the wrong pans. What's that you say? When you first started making the flan here those were the pans you were told to use? Interesting.
So yes, even though you showed the first batch to your boss and he didn't say anything, they're all wrong. So, we made the other girl you work with remake them at 4am, which is why everyone hates you now.
Thanks - love ya!
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Conversations and Exclamations
These are just a few of the ridiculous things that have been said to me at work recently:
Delivery Guy: Irish or Jewish?
Delivery Guy: Irish or Jewish?
Brooke: Excuse me?
Delivery Guy: Irish or Jewish?
Brooke: Me?
Delivery Guy: Yeah
Brooke: Both actually… (walks away while DG babbles on about how I look “just like” this teacher he once had)
A person blatantly asking about my ethnicity isn’t really anything new, but I’ve still never really gotten used to it. I just can’t figure out what’s so interesting about the way that I look that they feel the need to ask me about it in such a boorish manner. I will give him credit though, in that he is the first person to ever ask me if I was Irish AND Jewish in the same breath. However, it’s also possible that he knows that the owners of the bakery are Jewish, and as I’m obviously not Hispanic like most of the other workers, they may have just assumed that I’m related to the owners. Either way, its still pretty amusing.
Office Worker: (yelling) Are you pregnant???
Brooke: Very actually
Office Worker: Really?
Brooke: Yeah, I’m 7 months now
Office Worker: I had no idea!
Driver: (to another worker) Oh, you've got to let her go first...ladies first. Plus she's white! White women always go first, ha ha!
Brooke: (stunned silence)
This happened one day when I was trying to push a cart full of stuff out toward the outdoor freezer. In order to get there, you have to go out of this garage-style door in the back of the bakery. Usually there's no one there, but apparently there was a party going on and there was a logjam to get through the door. One of the drivers was there and started babbling on and on about how they all had to stand aside to let me through because, not only am I a woman, but because I'm white. He seemed to be joking (he certainly was laughing a lot), and just making fun but I'll tell ya, it sure did make me nervous!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Baking With Baby
Everything has been coming along pretty well at work. For a long time now I've felt like all I do is eat, sleep and go to work. I assume that this is a fairly common experience for both pastry chefs and pregnant women, and since I finally told my bosses I am excited to tell you as well (if you didn't already know) that I am now both. Yes it's true, Dave and I are very happily expecting our first child, who is due on June 9th. Although if my friend Lisa has any say in it, the baby will be born a day early so that they can share a birthday. Joint birthdays are special, just like narwhals and unicorns.
I was very nervous to tell my bosses about my pregnancy, but apparently I didn't really need to worry about it at all as they've been very understanding so far. When I told Mr. Calm he just said, "Oh, so you'll need what, like 2 days off to have the baby?" "Yeah, something like that." Hilarity. Also, as you may know I've been feeling like I don't really fit in with the rest of my co-workers. One especially (of course, the only one who speaks a modicum of English) appeared to spend the entire month of December swinging wildly between liking me and hating me to the point that she would only communicate with me through our boss. However, now that they all know I'm preggers, I'm practically the most popular person there. I guess it's true, everyone loves somebody who is pregnant.
I was very nervous to tell my bosses about my pregnancy, but apparently I didn't really need to worry about it at all as they've been very understanding so far. When I told Mr. Calm he just said, "Oh, so you'll need what, like 2 days off to have the baby?" "Yeah, something like that." Hilarity. Also, as you may know I've been feeling like I don't really fit in with the rest of my co-workers. One especially (of course, the only one who speaks a modicum of English) appeared to spend the entire month of December swinging wildly between liking me and hating me to the point that she would only communicate with me through our boss. However, now that they all know I'm preggers, I'm practically the most popular person there. I guess it's true, everyone loves somebody who is pregnant.
In other, more culturally interesting work news - have you ever heard of Rosca de reyes? I went into work on January 6th and as I was doing my morning tasks my co-worker Callie offered me some hot chocolate. I thought that was fairly nice but I didn't want any at the time so I declined, although later I wished I hadn't. About half an hour later she came around and offered me a piece of a ring cake covered in fruit and asked me if I knew what Rosca de reyes was. I definitely did not, and she explained to me that it's a Hispanic holiday (Dave also later explained to me more about the Epiphany and the 12th day of Christmas, etc) and that everyone gets a piece of the cake, which apparently you're supposed to dip in hot chocolate or coffee. Also, if you find the "baby Jesus" in your piece of cake (choking hazard does NOT equal Brooke safety!), then apparently you're obligated to invite everyone present to a dinner where you serve tamales. It also means that you've been blessed, but they seem to focus on the tamales. So guess who wound up finding the baby Jesus? That's right, their super-pale, Jewish co-worker! They were all highly amused, and while Callie assured me that I don't actually have to bring anything in on February 2nd (the designated tamale day), I'm totally up for it. I can't promise it'll be tamales, but I love cultural traditions and want to fully embrace the hilarity of me finding the little figurine in my cake (and thankfully not choking on it). Another co-worker joked that now I have 2 babies, the baby Jesus and Dave's and my baby; I'm sure they'll make a great team. I imagine them either becoming a crime fighting duo or running a Jewish detective agency. What? It could totally happen.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Brothers, New Nicknames and Poor Life Decisions
I find it hilarious when my co-workers, who insist that they don't speak English, sing along perfectly to Katy Perry songs when they come on the radio.
It is definitely interesting now that I work in a predominantly Spanish speaking workplace, and by "interesting," I mean 30% hilarious, 45% frustrating, 20% confusing and 5% increase of burritos eaten while at work. I have one new co-worker, "The Whistler", who I sometimes think likes me but most of the time I'm pretty sure he hates me. When I ask him for something he has this frustrating tendency to look at me like I just ran over his dog. Dave doesn't think I can tell if someone likes me or not when there's such a big language barrier in the way, but I disagree. You can't deny those looks. Sometimes, if I'm using something that he decides he needs to use (and of course his needs are more important than mine), he will literally walk over to my station, take it out of my hand and walk away! It doesn't happen often, but it's so shocking when it does that I really don't know how to respond. After all, I can't yell at him when he, "doesn't understand me." Although I get the feeling that he actually has selective understanding of language, because when the two bosses (brothers) talk to him in Spanish, he claims not to understand them either so go figure.
I call him The Whistler because, well, he has a tendency to whistle shrilly or sing what I can only assume are mournfully sad Spanish songs for upwards of 6 to 7 hours a day. It's pushed me to the brink of insanity so often, that I've taken to keeping my iPod in my shirt pocket every day and as soon as he starts going I immediately plug in. I don't really want to tune the whole bakery out because I think that you can miss a lot that way, but its so bad that I'm afraid I might eventually snap so maybe being a little clueless is acceptable for retaining what little sanity I may have left.
As I mentioned before, my two bosses are brothers, which is interesting because they couldn't be more different in their managing style. They never actually work together (and I can see why), instead they each take turns running the business every other day Monday through Saturday. I feel like it might be weird to run a business with your family member without actually working together, but at the same time, who wouldn't jump at the chance to have your own business where you only have to show up 3 days a week? I tend to get along with each of them fairly well, which is lucky since they and their parents (who run another wholesale bakery at the same location) are the only ones who speak English as a first language; but, like I said, they are very different. The first couple of hours in the work day are always the worst, that's when we have to get all of our immediate work done to go out on the delivery trucks. The one brother, J, seems to be able to take this in stride, figuring out ways to get things done. However, C is one of those people who feels that lots of yelling and harassment are the best way to get work out of people. Needless to say (but I will, because this is my blog), it can be very stressful. For example, here is a real conversation that took place between myself and J (Mr. Calm). I had just dropped a gingerbread house piece that needed to go out that morning (an actual piece that would make up the house, apparently they were putting it together themselves). I started to freak out and was apologizing vehemently, expecting to have an example made out of me in front of everyone:
J: Is this the part where I'm supposed to freak out? Do you want me to do it now, or later?
B: Um...later is good.
J: Okay, how soon can you get me a new piece?
B: Well I'd have to make another batch of dough...
J: Okay, can you get it to me within an hour?
And off I ran to make some new gingerbread dough, I don't think I've ever made it faster in my life. As I was handing him the newly boxed piece, he said:
J: Were you just trying to test your packing job? Seeing if it would break or not?
B: I'd actually given it a little shake before to see if it sounded secure, but no, I didn't drop it on purpose.
J: Because you know, we usually try not to throw our boxes on the floor, even for testing purposes.
B: Well...science is important... (to which he laughed)
Not so bad, right? On the other hand, we were super-crazy busy on Thursday when I was working with C (Cranky McShortpants), and 300 decorated cookies had to go out. Unfortunately, the ladies who make the cookies hadn't gotten them ready to be decorated until that morning and just because they kept saying "cookies" to me as I walked by didn't mean that I didn't also have 20 other things to do on my list, in addition to other people making me do things that also had to be done by 6am. I got started on them as soon as I could, with the ladies yelling at me, constantly throwing different trays in front of me, deciding apparently on a whim, which ones were more important than others. Then C comes by and starts yelling about why they're not done yet. Of course the ladies blame me and I got pissed so I told him exactly what I told you, not that it really matters in the end. He just yelled and paced behind us until they got done, constantly asking other people why they weren't helping, etc.
I wound up being there for 11 hours that day, and it was so bad, and I was so terrified that Friday would be just as busy that I wound up volunteering to come in on Saturday. You see, there are these macaroons, and man do I hate the macaroons. The batch makes a huge amount, and the recipe they use makes a really stiff dough, so it's always really hard on my hand having to pipe all of them out. Anyway, they're not something that companies order every day, but when they do they always order a minimum of 20lbs and sometimes as much as 60lbs. I knew that I only had 15lbs left over from my last batch and there was no way I was going to have time to make more on Thursday. Because I was so worried that Friday was going to be more of the same, I stupidly volunteered to come in on Saturday to "just make macaroons." C of course said no problem and I consoled myself with how I was being such a good, proactive employee. Plus Dave was going to be out of town this weekend anyway, so it's not like I'd be screwing up our time together. Then C comes back and says, "So you're definitely coming in on Saturday, right?" I said yes, warily, and with good reason because then he tells me that he's decided to give someone else that day off because why not just have me do their work too? Awesome. Sure. So of course, Friday ends up being nothing like Thursday (probably b/c I was working with Mr. Calm instead) and I wind up not only making the macaroons, but making them in record time. This amused by boss immensely because, as he pointed out to me, I'd now volunteered to come in on a Saturday for no reason. Saturday really didn't wind up being so bad as its their slowest day of the week (this is what happens when almost all of your clients are corporations), but no one likes going to work at 3am when they normally wouldn't have to. Blergh.
What's amusing to me, is that on Friday their Dad walked by my station and said, "Today sure is different than yesterday..." to which I laughingly responded that yes, it was, thinking that he was just talking about the workload. Then he says, "My sons are pretty different from each other, wouldn't you say?" He then asked me if I noticed that their Mom only comes in on the days that Mr. Calm is working. I actually hadn't noticed and he laughed saying that she never comes in to work in the office when Cranky McShortpants is there. His own Mom won't even come in because he's so crazy. Kind of funny, kind of sad, eh?
By the way, I made my first personal baked goods sale over Thanksgiving! A friend of ours asked me if I could make her a lattice-topped cherry pie to bring to her holiday celebration and apparently it went over gangbusters. Anyone want to start placing their orders for next year?
It is definitely interesting now that I work in a predominantly Spanish speaking workplace, and by "interesting," I mean 30% hilarious, 45% frustrating, 20% confusing and 5% increase of burritos eaten while at work. I have one new co-worker, "The Whistler", who I sometimes think likes me but most of the time I'm pretty sure he hates me. When I ask him for something he has this frustrating tendency to look at me like I just ran over his dog. Dave doesn't think I can tell if someone likes me or not when there's such a big language barrier in the way, but I disagree. You can't deny those looks. Sometimes, if I'm using something that he decides he needs to use (and of course his needs are more important than mine), he will literally walk over to my station, take it out of my hand and walk away! It doesn't happen often, but it's so shocking when it does that I really don't know how to respond. After all, I can't yell at him when he, "doesn't understand me." Although I get the feeling that he actually has selective understanding of language, because when the two bosses (brothers) talk to him in Spanish, he claims not to understand them either so go figure.
I call him The Whistler because, well, he has a tendency to whistle shrilly or sing what I can only assume are mournfully sad Spanish songs for upwards of 6 to 7 hours a day. It's pushed me to the brink of insanity so often, that I've taken to keeping my iPod in my shirt pocket every day and as soon as he starts going I immediately plug in. I don't really want to tune the whole bakery out because I think that you can miss a lot that way, but its so bad that I'm afraid I might eventually snap so maybe being a little clueless is acceptable for retaining what little sanity I may have left.
As I mentioned before, my two bosses are brothers, which is interesting because they couldn't be more different in their managing style. They never actually work together (and I can see why), instead they each take turns running the business every other day Monday through Saturday. I feel like it might be weird to run a business with your family member without actually working together, but at the same time, who wouldn't jump at the chance to have your own business where you only have to show up 3 days a week? I tend to get along with each of them fairly well, which is lucky since they and their parents (who run another wholesale bakery at the same location) are the only ones who speak English as a first language; but, like I said, they are very different. The first couple of hours in the work day are always the worst, that's when we have to get all of our immediate work done to go out on the delivery trucks. The one brother, J, seems to be able to take this in stride, figuring out ways to get things done. However, C is one of those people who feels that lots of yelling and harassment are the best way to get work out of people. Needless to say (but I will, because this is my blog), it can be very stressful. For example, here is a real conversation that took place between myself and J (Mr. Calm). I had just dropped a gingerbread house piece that needed to go out that morning (an actual piece that would make up the house, apparently they were putting it together themselves). I started to freak out and was apologizing vehemently, expecting to have an example made out of me in front of everyone:
J: Is this the part where I'm supposed to freak out? Do you want me to do it now, or later?
B: Um...later is good.
J: Okay, how soon can you get me a new piece?
B: Well I'd have to make another batch of dough...
J: Okay, can you get it to me within an hour?
And off I ran to make some new gingerbread dough, I don't think I've ever made it faster in my life. As I was handing him the newly boxed piece, he said:
J: Were you just trying to test your packing job? Seeing if it would break or not?
B: I'd actually given it a little shake before to see if it sounded secure, but no, I didn't drop it on purpose.
J: Because you know, we usually try not to throw our boxes on the floor, even for testing purposes.
B: Well...science is important... (to which he laughed)
Not so bad, right? On the other hand, we were super-crazy busy on Thursday when I was working with C (Cranky McShortpants), and 300 decorated cookies had to go out. Unfortunately, the ladies who make the cookies hadn't gotten them ready to be decorated until that morning and just because they kept saying "cookies" to me as I walked by didn't mean that I didn't also have 20 other things to do on my list, in addition to other people making me do things that also had to be done by 6am. I got started on them as soon as I could, with the ladies yelling at me, constantly throwing different trays in front of me, deciding apparently on a whim, which ones were more important than others. Then C comes by and starts yelling about why they're not done yet. Of course the ladies blame me and I got pissed so I told him exactly what I told you, not that it really matters in the end. He just yelled and paced behind us until they got done, constantly asking other people why they weren't helping, etc.
I wound up being there for 11 hours that day, and it was so bad, and I was so terrified that Friday would be just as busy that I wound up volunteering to come in on Saturday. You see, there are these macaroons, and man do I hate the macaroons. The batch makes a huge amount, and the recipe they use makes a really stiff dough, so it's always really hard on my hand having to pipe all of them out. Anyway, they're not something that companies order every day, but when they do they always order a minimum of 20lbs and sometimes as much as 60lbs. I knew that I only had 15lbs left over from my last batch and there was no way I was going to have time to make more on Thursday. Because I was so worried that Friday was going to be more of the same, I stupidly volunteered to come in on Saturday to "just make macaroons." C of course said no problem and I consoled myself with how I was being such a good, proactive employee. Plus Dave was going to be out of town this weekend anyway, so it's not like I'd be screwing up our time together. Then C comes back and says, "So you're definitely coming in on Saturday, right?" I said yes, warily, and with good reason because then he tells me that he's decided to give someone else that day off because why not just have me do their work too? Awesome. Sure. So of course, Friday ends up being nothing like Thursday (probably b/c I was working with Mr. Calm instead) and I wind up not only making the macaroons, but making them in record time. This amused by boss immensely because, as he pointed out to me, I'd now volunteered to come in on a Saturday for no reason. Saturday really didn't wind up being so bad as its their slowest day of the week (this is what happens when almost all of your clients are corporations), but no one likes going to work at 3am when they normally wouldn't have to. Blergh.
What's amusing to me, is that on Friday their Dad walked by my station and said, "Today sure is different than yesterday..." to which I laughingly responded that yes, it was, thinking that he was just talking about the workload. Then he says, "My sons are pretty different from each other, wouldn't you say?" He then asked me if I noticed that their Mom only comes in on the days that Mr. Calm is working. I actually hadn't noticed and he laughed saying that she never comes in to work in the office when Cranky McShortpants is there. His own Mom won't even come in because he's so crazy. Kind of funny, kind of sad, eh?
By the way, I made my first personal baked goods sale over Thanksgiving! A friend of ours asked me if I could make her a lattice-topped cherry pie to bring to her holiday celebration and apparently it went over gangbusters. Anyone want to start placing their orders for next year?
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Long Time, No Blog
Hi friends!
I'm sorry that it's been so long since I last updated this blog (2 months!), but I must admit that I was ashamed to let you know what was going on in my life at the time. I'd had several things that I wanted to talk to you about regarding life in the bakery; ridiculous, annoying and funny things. Then, however, everything in my world got turned upside down.
Toward the beginning of October I was in my 2nd month of work at the bakery and while things weren't going exactly as I thought they would (they never do) I was more or less happy with life. Even though the schedule was never set in stone, I was usually off on Thursdays and Fridays and had settled into more or less of a rhythm. Then on October 8th I got a phone call early in the morning from HR, apologizing for bothering me on my day off, but could I stop in some time that day because the new Operations Director wanted to have a meeting with me. I thought this was odd and I was a little nervous, but I never really expected what was about to happen. I went in around noon, sat down with the Director and the woman from HR joined us, never a good sign. They had called me in to tell me that they were letting me go, I was in shock. I knew that things were stressful around the bakery but I had no idea that my work ethic was going to be called into question. They told me that I was just too slow to work there, and that they really liked me and would be happy to recommend me to anyone, but that they couldn't keep me on anymore. Now I know that I'm not the fastest person in the world, but I was by no means the slowest person on staff. There was one guy who I like to call Mr. KIT (Mr. Know-it-all) who was eventually restricted to just being a mixer because when he was on the floor with the rest of us he was so slow it bordered on the insane. And if you dared to give him any suggestions he would get very defensive and start sniping about how he would get it eventually, and to stop badgering him. As far as I know, he's still employed, but I suppose that's neither here nor there and it doesn't do to dwell on these kind of perceived injustices.
I cleaned out my locker and left, all the while trying to hold my head high and not let on to anyone else who had seen me enter and exit that I was in any kind of distress. I eventually was able to make contact with some of my now former co-workers online and it's good to know that I can still count them as my friends. One was on injured leave at the time and told me that it was for the best as he was unhappy with how things were run there to begin with. The other has been a wonderful source of comfort, telling me how much the guys there miss me and how she wishes I was still there because it's lonely being the only woman on the floor. She even told me that my "waka waka" friend has taken to berating her with the phrase, and seems to be as amused by her refusal to respond with "mole mole" as he was when I would. Now he apparently does this to her all the time, and every time she's doesn't say anything, he just laughs and says, "Oh shit!"
I have some of my own theories about why I was let go, but it would be imprudent to discuss them with you right now. The good news is that I found another job, and within less than a week of being fired from the first bakery. I'm now working for a pastry shop in the Bronx and I can honestly say that I'm better off. Sure, there are things that I don't like, for example the hours suck! I'm usually there anywhere between 3am and 1pm which has me on a reverse sleep schedule that isn't working out so well right now. Also, I'm literally the only native English speaker there aside from the owners, and unlike at my previous job, most of my new co-workers have very little if any English in their vocabulary at all. However, there are a lot of pluses to my new employment. I work Monday to Friday (hello weekends!) and as long as you finish your work, you can leave when it's done, meaning that sometimes I can leave early. Also, we always get out by 11am on Fridays and the pay is better due to my maternally inherited negotiating skills. It's also right over the bridge from where Dave and I live in Queens, so I can drive there within 10-15 minutes every day, as opposed to taking the subway for an hour at sketchy times of the morning/night. It sucks having to pay the bridge tolls every day, but we have ez-pass so we get a discount, plus I use so little gas now that it kind of evens itself out in the end. Also, I seem to have found the only food service job in NYC that not only gives us off for Thanksgiving, but also the day after which means that the hubby and I will be skipping town for the comfort of WNY early in the afternoon on Wednesday.
All in all, things are looking up for us and I promise to share all the coming highs and lows with you. Because really, what's real in life if you don't share it with strangers on the internet? Speaking of which...I was looking through the stats on my blog and apparently I have an unexpectedly strong European following. I have 3 times as many readers from Luxembourg as I do from Canada, and apparently there are a lot of Latvians that are strangely fond of a picture of my husband smelling a loaf of sourdough bread. So I'd like to give a spirited hello to my readers in Luxembourg, Russia and Latvia - I'd love to hear from you if you're so inclined to leave a comment.
And because this is a blog about baking, here are some pictures of the periodic table birthday cake that I made for my husband:
I'm sorry that it's been so long since I last updated this blog (2 months!), but I must admit that I was ashamed to let you know what was going on in my life at the time. I'd had several things that I wanted to talk to you about regarding life in the bakery; ridiculous, annoying and funny things. Then, however, everything in my world got turned upside down.
Toward the beginning of October I was in my 2nd month of work at the bakery and while things weren't going exactly as I thought they would (they never do) I was more or less happy with life. Even though the schedule was never set in stone, I was usually off on Thursdays and Fridays and had settled into more or less of a rhythm. Then on October 8th I got a phone call early in the morning from HR, apologizing for bothering me on my day off, but could I stop in some time that day because the new Operations Director wanted to have a meeting with me. I thought this was odd and I was a little nervous, but I never really expected what was about to happen. I went in around noon, sat down with the Director and the woman from HR joined us, never a good sign. They had called me in to tell me that they were letting me go, I was in shock. I knew that things were stressful around the bakery but I had no idea that my work ethic was going to be called into question. They told me that I was just too slow to work there, and that they really liked me and would be happy to recommend me to anyone, but that they couldn't keep me on anymore. Now I know that I'm not the fastest person in the world, but I was by no means the slowest person on staff. There was one guy who I like to call Mr. KIT (Mr. Know-it-all) who was eventually restricted to just being a mixer because when he was on the floor with the rest of us he was so slow it bordered on the insane. And if you dared to give him any suggestions he would get very defensive and start sniping about how he would get it eventually, and to stop badgering him. As far as I know, he's still employed, but I suppose that's neither here nor there and it doesn't do to dwell on these kind of perceived injustices.
I cleaned out my locker and left, all the while trying to hold my head high and not let on to anyone else who had seen me enter and exit that I was in any kind of distress. I eventually was able to make contact with some of my now former co-workers online and it's good to know that I can still count them as my friends. One was on injured leave at the time and told me that it was for the best as he was unhappy with how things were run there to begin with. The other has been a wonderful source of comfort, telling me how much the guys there miss me and how she wishes I was still there because it's lonely being the only woman on the floor. She even told me that my "waka waka" friend has taken to berating her with the phrase, and seems to be as amused by her refusal to respond with "mole mole" as he was when I would. Now he apparently does this to her all the time, and every time she's doesn't say anything, he just laughs and says, "Oh shit!"
I have some of my own theories about why I was let go, but it would be imprudent to discuss them with you right now. The good news is that I found another job, and within less than a week of being fired from the first bakery. I'm now working for a pastry shop in the Bronx and I can honestly say that I'm better off. Sure, there are things that I don't like, for example the hours suck! I'm usually there anywhere between 3am and 1pm which has me on a reverse sleep schedule that isn't working out so well right now. Also, I'm literally the only native English speaker there aside from the owners, and unlike at my previous job, most of my new co-workers have very little if any English in their vocabulary at all. However, there are a lot of pluses to my new employment. I work Monday to Friday (hello weekends!) and as long as you finish your work, you can leave when it's done, meaning that sometimes I can leave early. Also, we always get out by 11am on Fridays and the pay is better due to my maternally inherited negotiating skills. It's also right over the bridge from where Dave and I live in Queens, so I can drive there within 10-15 minutes every day, as opposed to taking the subway for an hour at sketchy times of the morning/night. It sucks having to pay the bridge tolls every day, but we have ez-pass so we get a discount, plus I use so little gas now that it kind of evens itself out in the end. Also, I seem to have found the only food service job in NYC that not only gives us off for Thanksgiving, but also the day after which means that the hubby and I will be skipping town for the comfort of WNY early in the afternoon on Wednesday.
All in all, things are looking up for us and I promise to share all the coming highs and lows with you. Because really, what's real in life if you don't share it with strangers on the internet? Speaking of which...I was looking through the stats on my blog and apparently I have an unexpectedly strong European following. I have 3 times as many readers from Luxembourg as I do from Canada, and apparently there are a lot of Latvians that are strangely fond of a picture of my husband smelling a loaf of sourdough bread. So I'd like to give a spirited hello to my readers in Luxembourg, Russia and Latvia - I'd love to hear from you if you're so inclined to leave a comment.
And because this is a blog about baking, here are some pictures of the periodic table birthday cake that I made for my husband:
Science is Delicious!
Can you name (and eat) all of the elements?
Monday, September 27, 2010
Birthdays and Rules to Live By
True story: the other night, while working at the bakery, I serenaded one of my co-workers with "Eternal Flame" when it came on the radio. Shock value = 7/10
So I've been thinking about coming up with my own set of rules or guidelines for working in a bakery. Granted, many of them may be focused toward the female employee, but I'm a girl, so I guess that's to be expected. And on that note, here are the first two on what will become Brooke's rules for happy bakery employees:
Rule #1: Wash your hands before AND after you go to the bathroom. Seriously, because when I'm working my hands are constantly caked in flour and dough bits, and I don't know about you, but I don't want to get either of those things near my lady parts. Every time I think about it, it just brings this back into my mind: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twkV_xXPMvI
Rule #2: If you're constantly being made to use the dough divider to make the rolls on your work shift, do not tell your co-worker that you're on "ball patrol." Believe it or not, I am not the one who said this, rather it was said to me, and I had to stop working for a couple of minutes because I couldn't stop laughing. The next day the same co-worker saw me using the divider and asked me if I was on "boule patrol" (boule is a term used for a rounded loaf of dough, which is how we shape larger amounts of it before putting it into the divider). I concurred that I was, indeed, on boule patrol, and he said, "it sounds a lot better than when I say 'ball patrol', right?" So true.
Work has been interesting lately. I'm pretty well adjusted to being one of only 2 girls working as a bread baker as well as to working mostly with men who don't speak English as a second language. My Mom bought me a set of Spanish immersion CDs which I'm looking forward to using, but until then, my Spanish is still incredibly rudimentary. At time I feel like I'm living in some alternate "Smurf" reality, where everyone uses the same word for everything and anything, in this case it's, "claro" which from what I understand means, "clear" or "exactly". Yes, my co-workers will use this for it's proper meaning, for example if I ask one of them if I have something right, they will respond with claro, but they'll use it for everything under the sun. If they want your attention? Claro. If they're teasing you? Claro. If they want you to start doing something differently? Claro. If they want you to do something the same way you've been doing it, again, claro. You can see how this would be confusing, yes? (Claro!) Also, there's this song that they sometimes play on the Spanish radio stations, and the chorus goes, "waka waka...mole mole." So one time I sang along with it and now one of my co-workers will randomly yell, "waka waka" and wait for me to say, "mole mole!" and if I don't, he will assume that I "didn't hear him" and will follow me around repeating "waka waka" until I respond appropriately. I am definitely living in a cartoon.
Dave and I had a great time being back in Buffalo for my birthday. It was a fun-filled weekend of driving, exhaustion, fasting (here's to being born around Yom Kippur!), birthdaying and babies. Luckily we were able to see a lot of people, and spend time with most of our family members, especially since it had been 9 months since we'd seen most of them. All of it just really makes me wish we were living back in Buffalo already. I know that we're planning on getting back there in the future, but as with anything you want, it's always hard to wait for your plans to come to fruition. Plus, just being able to hang out in the same room with my hubby and my sister Morgan is always a great time. It's like we're in this never ending contest trying to make each other laugh and then my Mom will eventually throw her hands up in the air and say that it's like she's living in an improv show. It was also fun to see some of my friend's kids, I can't believe how quickly they're growing up, I can't even really call them babies anymore seeing as they're all pretty much toddlers. It's nice to see that they're already learning to ignore football games in favor of toys though...being a Bills fan is rough stuff, no matter what age you are.
p.s. I also want to send special thanks to all of my friends who conspired to make me a ridiculous amount of bandannas/hair-kerchiefs. I love them all, and they greatly amuse my co-workers.
So I've been thinking about coming up with my own set of rules or guidelines for working in a bakery. Granted, many of them may be focused toward the female employee, but I'm a girl, so I guess that's to be expected. And on that note, here are the first two on what will become Brooke's rules for happy bakery employees:
Rule #1: Wash your hands before AND after you go to the bathroom. Seriously, because when I'm working my hands are constantly caked in flour and dough bits, and I don't know about you, but I don't want to get either of those things near my lady parts. Every time I think about it, it just brings this back into my mind: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twkV_xXPMvI
Rule #2: If you're constantly being made to use the dough divider to make the rolls on your work shift, do not tell your co-worker that you're on "ball patrol." Believe it or not, I am not the one who said this, rather it was said to me, and I had to stop working for a couple of minutes because I couldn't stop laughing. The next day the same co-worker saw me using the divider and asked me if I was on "boule patrol" (boule is a term used for a rounded loaf of dough, which is how we shape larger amounts of it before putting it into the divider). I concurred that I was, indeed, on boule patrol, and he said, "it sounds a lot better than when I say 'ball patrol', right?" So true.
Work has been interesting lately. I'm pretty well adjusted to being one of only 2 girls working as a bread baker as well as to working mostly with men who don't speak English as a second language. My Mom bought me a set of Spanish immersion CDs which I'm looking forward to using, but until then, my Spanish is still incredibly rudimentary. At time I feel like I'm living in some alternate "Smurf" reality, where everyone uses the same word for everything and anything, in this case it's, "claro" which from what I understand means, "clear" or "exactly". Yes, my co-workers will use this for it's proper meaning, for example if I ask one of them if I have something right, they will respond with claro, but they'll use it for everything under the sun. If they want your attention? Claro. If they're teasing you? Claro. If they want you to start doing something differently? Claro. If they want you to do something the same way you've been doing it, again, claro. You can see how this would be confusing, yes? (Claro!) Also, there's this song that they sometimes play on the Spanish radio stations, and the chorus goes, "waka waka...mole mole." So one time I sang along with it and now one of my co-workers will randomly yell, "waka waka" and wait for me to say, "mole mole!" and if I don't, he will assume that I "didn't hear him" and will follow me around repeating "waka waka" until I respond appropriately. I am definitely living in a cartoon.
Dave and I had a great time being back in Buffalo for my birthday. It was a fun-filled weekend of driving, exhaustion, fasting (here's to being born around Yom Kippur!), birthdaying and babies. Luckily we were able to see a lot of people, and spend time with most of our family members, especially since it had been 9 months since we'd seen most of them. All of it just really makes me wish we were living back in Buffalo already. I know that we're planning on getting back there in the future, but as with anything you want, it's always hard to wait for your plans to come to fruition. Plus, just being able to hang out in the same room with my hubby and my sister Morgan is always a great time. It's like we're in this never ending contest trying to make each other laugh and then my Mom will eventually throw her hands up in the air and say that it's like she's living in an improv show. It was also fun to see some of my friend's kids, I can't believe how quickly they're growing up, I can't even really call them babies anymore seeing as they're all pretty much toddlers. It's nice to see that they're already learning to ignore football games in favor of toys though...being a Bills fan is rough stuff, no matter what age you are.
p.s. I also want to send special thanks to all of my friends who conspired to make me a ridiculous amount of bandannas/hair-kerchiefs. I love them all, and they greatly amuse my co-workers.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Holidays, Cakes and Crocs
Last night I worked my first holiday shift and my first shift at a later hour (for me anyway) - 6pm - 2am on Labor Day. Not one of the bigger holidays, but it still gives me time and a half for hours worked so I'm a happy girl. I thought it was going to be really hard starting work 2 hours later (and by extension, leaving 2 hours later), but it really didn't affect me that badly. Actually, I think it was a better night for me than usual. Maybe it was because I was joining a group that was already going strong as opposed to being one of the ones starting up at 4pm. Ironically, it also took me less time to get home, leaving work at 2am, than it usually does when I leave at midnight. This was even with me having to wait for my 17-year-old co-worker to finish changing because he wanted to walk me to the train. I thought it was very sweet that he was worried about me, but by the time I got to the train, I had a feeling that he really just wanted to use the walk to remind me over and over again that I promised to lend him some DVDs. Oh well, it was still pretty sweet.
Today I’m working from 5pm till 1am, and I’m still trying to adjust to this new life as a baker. It takes a huge toll on my body and my emotions are always close to the surface these days. I’m still very interested in learning more about cakes, especially structure and design-wise, and sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice for a first job. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful for the job, and I know that it’s a great experience for me, it’s just that it’s so frustrating knowing that any cake places want at least 1-2 years of cake decorating experience, and yet no one will hire you to give you that experience. I’ve also been toying with the idea of trying to do more on my own (cakes, pastries, etc) as a way to keep my skill-set up and teach myself new things so that when I do decide to move on I won’t just be all about bread. I’ve even been thinking of videotaping my attempts and posting them online. Any thoughts? Would you be interested in watching those/seeing my ridiculous attempts?
p.s. A big thank you to my lovely sister Morgan for visiting me this past weekend! I hate that I couldn’t spend more time with you while you were here, but it was wonderful to see you, even if it was only for a few hours at a time
Today I’m working from 5pm till 1am, and I’m still trying to adjust to this new life as a baker. It takes a huge toll on my body and my emotions are always close to the surface these days. I’m still very interested in learning more about cakes, especially structure and design-wise, and sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice for a first job. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful for the job, and I know that it’s a great experience for me, it’s just that it’s so frustrating knowing that any cake places want at least 1-2 years of cake decorating experience, and yet no one will hire you to give you that experience. I’ve also been toying with the idea of trying to do more on my own (cakes, pastries, etc) as a way to keep my skill-set up and teach myself new things so that when I do decide to move on I won’t just be all about bread. I’ve even been thinking of videotaping my attempts and posting them online. Any thoughts? Would you be interested in watching those/seeing my ridiculous attempts?
Oh, and I finally got some new footwear – a pair of crocs. I didn’t cave and buy them on my own, the bakery is supposed to provide everyone who works there with a pair (makes sense since they technically require you to wear them), however I still hadn’t gotten any as of a couple of days ago. Then, one of my co-workers was having her last day and asked if I had gotten a pair yet. When I told her no, she asked what size I was. As it turns out, they had bought her a pair that she had never worn because she doesn’t like crocs and has her own shoes that she prefers to wear, and we’re the same size so she gave them to me. The only twist on this situation is that they’re yellow. Bright, banana yellow. This isn’t a problem for me, because as far as I’m concerned, crocs are ridiculous shoes, and I think that any shoe that is that ridiculous should only come in crazy, bright colors. However, all of my co-workers seem to be highly amused that I’m wearing yellow crocs. They keep pointing them out, and ask if I’m trying to “make a statement” by wearing shoes that bright. I just keep telling them that the only statement I’m making is that I like free shoes.
Tomorrow night is the beginning of Rosh Hashanah and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s always been one of my favorite holidays, and not just because it sometimes coincides with my birthday. Dave and I will be having a quite dinner, just the two of us tomorrow night, and then Thursday morning we’ll be off to visit our favorite Rabbi in Westchester for services before coming home to make a big dinner for some of our friends. I hope that you all have a wonderful and sweet new year. Shana Tovah!
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