I've been blessed.
I've worked as a cook in a lot of different environments but I've only worked with a couple cooks, whom I would call hacks; guys who regarded food as a paycheck, little else. Most folks I've worked with lived food. Talked about it, ate it, daydreamed about it. Basically it gave shape and substance to their lives. After all, what's more important? You can't live without it so why not treat as what it is: important and life giving.
When you buy a jug of dressing from Sysco, flail away at a few innocent peppers, slop everything into a bus tub and call it a day; what have you done? You've diminished the art of food.
Leaving the commissary I was sad but I was also angry. I abhor cooks that don't consider the craft of the job when they walk into the kitchen. Sure, earn a living, pay your bills...that's great but there's a bigger picture here. What you create is going into people's bellies. They've TRUSTED you. I can't think of a more sacred pact than the one between eater and feeder.
In retrospect I should've grabbed the mgr and boxed his jaws for him and made him think about the path he's walking down. I take my work extremely seriously. When I see cooks act flippantly toward the people they're feeding it pisses me off.
Putting the soapbox up. I'm sure I'll clamber back on it tomorrow.
<message edited by scrumptiouschef on Sat, 11/17/12 1:16 AM>