Month of the Cook
It is official … the influence of El Nino is diminishing and we are told we can expect rainfall. The rainfall prediction has come true with thunder rolling across the heavens and lightning flickering like a fluorescent light ready to go on the blink, these pyrotechnics have been followed by the sound of rain on the tin roof and a warm earthy smell drifting up reminding one that life does indeed need water. Again this morning we had another significant rain shower, one that darkened the skies and sent us scurrying for shelter. Not only did the rainfall but also the wind blew that rain across the balcony, and had I not shut the door against it, onto the carpet of my room.
We have El Nino to thank … so we are frequently reliably informed. El Nino is an important weather factor. We hear El Nino, Global Warming, Droughts, Floods, Tempests … well perhaps tempests is a little exaggerated, but you get the picture … touted in newspapers, on television, and any other media that wishes to grab our attention.
It certainly is nice [and isn't nice one of those nice words … like sugar-sweet candies, overused and useless] to be able to cast the blame onto El Nino. We had a long hot summer. Some unfortunate folks lost their homes to bush fires; others lost their crops because of lack of irrigation or adequate rainfall, or indeed any rainfall. We sweltered in 40 degree plus temperatures and we wiped our sweaty brows with equally sweaty hands thus negating the effect.
OK … I have given space to El Nino.
But … I personally think that the rain this morning was simply heaven's way of cleansing us after an exhausting month of cooks. February, the month of the cook … it has a certain ring to it, one that is cheaper than a brass curtain ring bundled into 10's or 20's in a hardware department store. This February we have had two cooks at the hotel. Maybe the first one arrived in January as she was here for four whole weeks. Hardly a record, but the four weeks were certainly tumultuous. Her food was excellent. It was her personality that let her down. I spent many moments wondering how she ticked … like a 10cent child's watch or a time bomb? That was in the lap of the gods, or perhaps which side of the bed she got up from. She resigned. She did give us time to find and employ another cook, and on her last day she apologised to those she had offended. In fact her departure was amicable. She made her farewells in a manner strangely defying her actions whilst here. Not being a psychologist or a professional on matters of the personality I hesitate to say categorically that she was 'different'. She was!
Enter cook number two for February. The coach pulled in across the street. An attractive woman emerged from its darkened bowels and forged her way over the grass center verge towards the hotel. Alas … the boss was two or three minutes late in seeing the bus arrive and as he crossed the street she had walked down to the side gate. We have dogs … guard dogs, which to those they know are simply big loveable pets. To those who they have not been introduced, they can appear vicious. Thankfully the dogs behaved that evening.
Next morning I am made aware that bets have been placed as to the length of her stay. I was surprised! Short-term cooks are nothing but a nuisance. She blew into the kitchen like a tornado moving everything to another place. She had opinions that she relayed to the boss in a very outspoken manner. I made a vow to not let her behaviour rattle me, but to give her enough rope to hang herself. Within an hour she had a verbal dispute with the boss and failed to recognise his signs of anger … I recognised them even though I had never seen them before in the previous six months of my employment. The hanging rope suddenly seemed to have a tightening noose. I scrubbed, I defrosted, I donned gloves, and washed pots and pans in such numbers as to make me wonder how many she was cooking for. I remained outwardly calm!
The days wore on. The rest of the staff showed signs of restless anger. We trod our daily path like walking on eggshells. Monday, the fifth morning of her employment was her last. We won't go into the gruesome details but suffice to say she rubbed the boss up the wrong way by answering back. The result? She was on the coach south this morning.
Do not worry dear reader … there will be food for the starving guests this evening. You see The Family [those of us who live here, who help each other out, who actually like living here] have banded together to save the day. Maybe the meals might not be gourmet, but the atmosphere in the kitchen will be pleasant … a little bit of teasing, some laughter, and a lot of co-operation. The events of the past month lead me to ponder as to why middle aged women, seemingly of no fixed abode, who wander The Outback with a suitcase, or even a motor car, deem it essential to rule the roost of each and every place they stop off at, and end up feeling hurt and hard done by. I suspect they do not know many of the social tricks of life, I suspect they do not like other humans, and saddest of all I suspect they do not like themselves.
We have El Nino to thank … so we are frequently reliably informed. El Nino is an important weather factor. We hear El Nino, Global Warming, Droughts, Floods, Tempests … well perhaps tempests is a little exaggerated, but you get the picture … touted in newspapers, on television, and any other media that wishes to grab our attention.
It certainly is nice [and isn't nice one of those nice words … like sugar-sweet candies, overused and useless] to be able to cast the blame onto El Nino. We had a long hot summer. Some unfortunate folks lost their homes to bush fires; others lost their crops because of lack of irrigation or adequate rainfall, or indeed any rainfall. We sweltered in 40 degree plus temperatures and we wiped our sweaty brows with equally sweaty hands thus negating the effect.
OK … I have given space to El Nino.
But … I personally think that the rain this morning was simply heaven's way of cleansing us after an exhausting month of cooks. February, the month of the cook … it has a certain ring to it, one that is cheaper than a brass curtain ring bundled into 10's or 20's in a hardware department store. This February we have had two cooks at the hotel. Maybe the first one arrived in January as she was here for four whole weeks. Hardly a record, but the four weeks were certainly tumultuous. Her food was excellent. It was her personality that let her down. I spent many moments wondering how she ticked … like a 10cent child's watch or a time bomb? That was in the lap of the gods, or perhaps which side of the bed she got up from. She resigned. She did give us time to find and employ another cook, and on her last day she apologised to those she had offended. In fact her departure was amicable. She made her farewells in a manner strangely defying her actions whilst here. Not being a psychologist or a professional on matters of the personality I hesitate to say categorically that she was 'different'. She was!
Enter cook number two for February. The coach pulled in across the street. An attractive woman emerged from its darkened bowels and forged her way over the grass center verge towards the hotel. Alas … the boss was two or three minutes late in seeing the bus arrive and as he crossed the street she had walked down to the side gate. We have dogs … guard dogs, which to those they know are simply big loveable pets. To those who they have not been introduced, they can appear vicious. Thankfully the dogs behaved that evening.
Next morning I am made aware that bets have been placed as to the length of her stay. I was surprised! Short-term cooks are nothing but a nuisance. She blew into the kitchen like a tornado moving everything to another place. She had opinions that she relayed to the boss in a very outspoken manner. I made a vow to not let her behaviour rattle me, but to give her enough rope to hang herself. Within an hour she had a verbal dispute with the boss and failed to recognise his signs of anger … I recognised them even though I had never seen them before in the previous six months of my employment. The hanging rope suddenly seemed to have a tightening noose. I scrubbed, I defrosted, I donned gloves, and washed pots and pans in such numbers as to make me wonder how many she was cooking for. I remained outwardly calm!
The days wore on. The rest of the staff showed signs of restless anger. We trod our daily path like walking on eggshells. Monday, the fifth morning of her employment was her last. We won't go into the gruesome details but suffice to say she rubbed the boss up the wrong way by answering back. The result? She was on the coach south this morning.
Do not worry dear reader … there will be food for the starving guests this evening. You see The Family [those of us who live here, who help each other out, who actually like living here] have banded together to save the day. Maybe the meals might not be gourmet, but the atmosphere in the kitchen will be pleasant … a little bit of teasing, some laughter, and a lot of co-operation. The events of the past month lead me to ponder as to why middle aged women, seemingly of no fixed abode, who wander The Outback with a suitcase, or even a motor car, deem it essential to rule the roost of each and every place they stop off at, and end up feeling hurt and hard done by. I suspect they do not know many of the social tricks of life, I suspect they do not like other humans, and saddest of all I suspect they do not like themselves.
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