Yesterday, for no reason, the lights in kitchen went off. We tried turning them off and on again, we found the breaker, flipped it once, someone almost got electrocuted during that attempt, so when the lights went off again…we were introduced to an evening of cooking via heat lamps.
I have learned that heat lamps, when left on for hours and hours end up getting very warm indeed.
I have also learned that grilling in what equates to candlelight is really hard. I don’t know if I quite realized just how much I cook via sight. (Or at least, at this job. I usually bake by smell.)
I also got to work with a woman who swore more than me, by an exponential measure. (I swear a *lot*, for those of you don’t know. It’s kind of a thing. I actually can’t remember a point in my life where I wasn’t the person in my peer group who swore the most.) I can no longer claim to be the most uncouth loudmouth in the kitchen. It’s actually a bit of a shock.
Lessons learned in a candle-lit kitchen.