Those words “occupational hazard” couldn’t ring truer to a chef, hazard doesn’t lend itself as a suitable description for the pain that we endure as chefs, people always assume it’s the knives that cause us the most injuries but in my experience it seems to be my knives are the only implements not hell bent on grievous bodily harm. It’s so rare for me to cut myself with my knives, it always seems to be ridiculously blunt random objects that slice my hands and arms open. not too long ago during a busy service I reached for my tongs, that I keep conveniently on the handle of the oven door, but the oven didn’t want to give them up this time around and they got caught as I pulled on them ensuring that my finger ran up the metal on the inside of the tongs opening up my finger quite nicely. I mean tongs! Who would have though it? I open up my hands lifting things out of fridges and dry stores as I catch my knuckle in a tight space or as I walk past a workbench, I even find cuts that I don’t remember doing? a grater or microplane are evil little fuckers, and I’m sure chefs would agree that where they are evil, the devil in the kitchen is the demonic mandolin, I often feel like I’m going to chop my hand off at the wrist using that beast, even more so than the soft and gentle meat slicer, my friend that would never lay a hand on me.
It will come as no surprise to chefs reading this that I burn myself everyday I’m in the kitchen, not because I’m a bumbling idiot with retarded hands and a simple mind but because almost everything is hotter than the sun in a professional kitchen and most of the time! hot fat spits on my arms and pops into my face and eyes, the slightest touch on the oven door or shelves inside with my forearm results in those all too common red lines on my arms and with my decision to always wear short sleeve jackets because it cooler this happens quite a lot. pans that come out of the oven I almost instantly plunge into the sink now leaving the meat or fish to rest out of the pan, but the amount of times that pan handle as just touched my arm whilst I’m plating up something else is ridiculous. My most recent burn came from blitzing a puree as the lid just lifted on the jug blender and splashed lava like puree up my arm and the surrounding walls. To confuse things even more in the kitchens I work in “hot” becomes “heavy” as in “fuck me! That pan was heavy” as the chef recoils in pain.
Add on top of these “hazards” the playful intention of trying to stitch each other up by planting hot spoons for your colleague to pick up or the occasional towel whip and the kitchen becomes more dangerous than Syria!
semonebonner 