I'm evermore understanding of kitchen life now. Of course I've read almost all of docbrite's Liquor stories (they're what finally really hooked me on Poppy's writing), and I'm following Chris "Mr. Poppy's cookin' hubby" DeBarr on his LJ (chefcdb, for the reference of those of y'all who haven't started reading him yet); now I'm on an Anthony Bourdain kick. His Kitchen Confidential is by my bed; his special Into the Fire was just on my TV. Bourdain spent a night back on the line at Les Halles, the New York restaurant where he cooked before and during the start of his fame, and realized just how far out of practice he was at line cooking. Hell of an ego-hit for him, trying to impress (or, really, not to disappoint) the young Turks who knew what they were doing. (One cook gives Bourdain this withering look at the end, all Bitch, are you for real? said without words.) "Young man's game," Bourdain admits.
That won't be my job, ever.