Back at work! I was just not happy anymore, but had to stay, as the job offered to me at the other hotel was now taken. The young Sam was just not suited for the kitchen, as he was not at all interested to learn anything. On the other hand, I think I was also not in the right, for I would not yet allow him to cook, and he of course, with the optimism of youth, thought that by having watched me for two weeks, he was a masterchef ! So one lunchtime I was busy with a big table, when an order for fish and chips came in, and thinking that not much can go wrong with fish and chips, I told Sam that he was free to do it.As we had a lot of fish orders for lunch, Sam must have seen me do it a hundred times over the last two weeks, and I had explained the complete process of every meal.
As busy as I was, I did not really watched what he was doing, as I had a lot of different meals to prepare, and it was hard enough to get all the meals ready to go out at the same time. But when I turned to put some chips in the fryer, the scene that met my eyes was quite astonishing, and just a bitty hilarious! Sam had obviously not watched me well, for instead of putting in one piece of fish, wait for the batter to cook a little, then put in the next one, he had put all the fish in together, and that had resulted of course in one big lump, as the fish was stuck together good and solid, and poor Sam was almost in tears trying to separate them. That was not a good idea, as the fillets broke into pieces!
I told him to get some other fillets out, and get everything ready, then fish out the pieces of maltreated fish so I can do it when my meals were done.
Instead of feeling a bit subdued, Sam's youthful self believe did not deter him from telling Tony that the reason for the wasted fish was cold oil, and not his inexperience. As Tony was pressed by Sam's grandparents, who he was friendly with to advance the boy a bit, he laughed about it, and shook it off as just a wee mistake, and asked me to give more attention to help the boy learn some cooking! As if I did not have enough on my bally plate! I did not let him come near to any cooking or frying, but let him assemble the burgers, and other small things, but that left me with doing the running and stacking the dishwasher myself, as Sam was strutting around the kitchen like a dunghill cockerel, having conversations with his pals who were skulking behind the cars and bushes outside,telling them that he was doing a lot of the cooking!
He was quite happy, as learning to cook was not a priority, but to brag about his cooking was important. I just found his being under my feet unnerving, as usually nobody was allowed on my side of the table, it being dangerous, with pots of stuff boiling and me sometimes moving fast with some hot stuff in my hands. I could sense that the time for me to stage another strike was imminent!
The foto is of my view from the kitchen window where Sam's friends hung out, waiting for him to finish.